Part 26 (1/2)

”I don't know what I believe anymore. Gotta admit it's pretty far fetched, this woman coming to him to do his impression of Cyrano. How many jewelers do you think there are in San Diego?” he asks.

”I'd start in La Jolla, out near the center, work my way this way. Try the places around where Epperson lives.”

Harry nods, a sour look on his face. This is a thankless task. He now has a full plate, following the audit trail for Crone's research and delving into Epperson's love life.

”We have an approximate date for the purchase of the ring. Besides, maybe there were other people at the center who saw it. He may have shown it around. Young man in love,” I tell him.

”Yeah. Just my line of work.” I can tell what Harry is thinking: Crone sending him out chasing geese.

We step back inside. Crone has calmed down enough to sit, waiting for us at the acrylic part.i.tion.

”If we wanted to talk to Epperson,” I say, ”how would we go about it?”

Crone thinks about this for a moment. ”Aaron, I suppose. I could have Dr. Tash call him.”

”It would have to be voluntary. Epperson's conversation with us. No inducements,” I tell him. ”If he doesn't want to talk, he has to be told that he is free to decline.”

”Understood.”

There is no doubt that if we talk to Epperson, Tannery will find out, and will explore the conversation with Epperson on the stand. Anything that looks like duress would cut against us.

”Do you want me to call him? Aaron, I mean.”

I nod.

Crone picks up the jailhouse phone and waits for the operator to answer. ”Bill's the only one who can set this straight. I don't understand why he won't talk to you.”

”He's been told by prosecutors to stay clear,” says Harry.

”Can they do that?”

”They can tell him he doesn't have to talk to us if he doesn't want to. If they wink and nod in all the right places, most witnesses get the message. Don't complicate your life if you don't have to. The rest is up to him,” says Harry.

”Then maybe he just doesn't want to get involved.”

”He is now,” I tell him.

”Well, absolutely. And he's going to have to tell the truth.”

”Yeah, that's what we need. Some truth telling,” says Harry.

Crone takes this as the shot it is intended to be, but doesn't respond.

”I need to have a call placed.” The operator is on the line. ”No, it's a local area code. Yes, it's at the request of my lawyer. He's here. You want to talk to him?”

The jail operator must have said no because Crone doesn't ask me to pick up the receiver on my side.

At this moment he is all energy and enthusiasm, finally something he can do in his own defense. He gives the operator the telephone number from memory, Tash's office number at the center.

”Don't say anything else, just tell him to contact Epperson and have Epperson call my office,” I tell him.

Crone nods, winks from beyond the gla.s.s, circled finger and thumb like he understands.

We can hear half of the conversation, Crone breathing into the phone from the mike set in the thick acrylic that separates us.

”Aaron, David here. We have a problem.” Just like that. Crone says it as if he's never left the office, like it's something they can handle in a midmorning staff meeting. ”Can you get ahold of Bill Epperson for me, and have him call somebody?”

”No. No. It's nothing having to do with the project. It's the case. There's some mix-up,” he says. ”Nothing serious.”

I'm beginning to grimace on the other side of the gla.s.s.

”Seems a witness is saying some things . . .”

I tap on the part.i.tion with my pen, shaking my head as Crone looks at me. He nods like he understands, then looks away.

”Some garbage about our work,” he says.

Now I'm tapping with my knuckles, waving him off with my hand. Finger slicing across my throat like a knife as if to cut him off. He turns sideways in the chair so that I can no longer make eye contact.

”Nothing to worry about,” he says. ”Bill can straighten it all out.”

I'm hitting the acrylic hard enough to break a regular window.

Crone gives me another bull's-eye, this time blind, not looking at me, with finger and thumb.

”It's that same old c.r.a.p,” he says, ”from back in the seventies. Yeah.”

Tash is commiserating on the other end of the line.

”Yes. The whole thing raising its head again. You get tired of people misconstruing your work,” he says. ”Especially now. They're saying I'm doing things when I'm not.”

”What's that?”

”Yeah, it has to do with the same charges.”

I can only imagine what Tash is saying on the other end, hoping and praying that the operator is not recording it on Tannery's orders.

”Let me check.” Crone cups his hand over the mouthpiece, and turns to look at me. He can see the fire in my eyes, but he ignores this.

”Aaron would like to know if he can come by.”

”What? Now?”

”Tomorrow morning. He's got some numbers he wants me to look at. Maybe about nine one of you could be here?”