Part 32 (2/2)
”It was probably justifiable. It'll make it easier on you if it was. The boy had it coming. No doubt about. I'll stand up in court and let the judge know about his... activities. You might get no jail time at all. You might be back to that beautiful family of yours before Christmas.” Duderstadt looked him square in the face, the perfect confidant, the perfect friend to help a wayward soul through turmoil.
”I think you want to tell me what happened, Rayburn. I think you do.”
Prime opened his mouth, closed it again.
”Come on; you'll feel better when you do.”
Prime nodded. ”Go f.u.c.k your f.a.g buddy, and get me my G.o.dd.a.m.n lawyer.”
Eckart actually laughed. Duderstadt's face turned purple, and he slammed the back of his fist against Prime's cheek.
Prime grinned and let the blood flood over his lips and onto his s.h.i.+rt.
”You'll have to explain that to my lawyer too,” Prime said. He grinned with what he hoped were ghoulishly b.l.o.o.d.y teeth.
”You were already worked over when you got here,” Duderstadt said.
”By your patrolmen,” Prime said. ”What a lawsuit I have.”
Duderstadt grunted and stood. ”You'll wish you confessed. You'll wish you confessed before this is all over. Keeping all that inside you, Rayburn, it hurts. I've seen what a good confession will do for a man. I feel just like a priest sometimes.”
Prime bit down on his first response. He wanted to tell Duderstadt to p.i.s.s off and let him sleep. But the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was right; how much better he would feel if he just confessed.
To get it all off his chest- ”No confession today, Father Duderstadt. Why don't you go and let me sleep.”
The detective stared at him, then nodded to Eckart. They left, slamming the door behind them.
Prime awoke with a start. Duderstadt had slammed the door. Prime glanced at the clock. He'd slept in the uncomfortable chair for three hours, an amazing feat considered how worked up he'd been after the questioning. But the fight with Carson, the trip in the back of the patrol car to Findlay, the hours of tension had drained him of energy.
Prime relaxed his face, forced himself to yawn.
Duderstadt slapped a pile of papers down onto the table.
”What is this s.h.i.+t?” Duderstadt said.
”What?” Prime asked.
”Even your wife didn't have the combination,” Duderstadt said. ”We had to get a cracker in from Detroit to open it.”
Prime stared at the pile of paper. He saw the newspaper clippings; one from the Findlay Bee Findlay Bee was on top. In this universe the Findlay newspaper was called the was on top. In this universe the Findlay newspaper was called the Gazette. Gazette.
”Articles on the mayor, on the council members, plans for c.r.a.p, bric-a-brac, toys.” Duderstadt spread the material across the table. ”And here's the file I care about, one on Ted Carson. Clippings of him being arrested for killing a cat. Only this never happened.” Duderstadt shook the paper in Prime's face. ”What is this s.h.i.+t?”
Prime couldn't help it. He started laughing. ”You broke into my safe for some old fake newspaper clippings? What a bunch of idiots.”
”Fake? These look real.”
”Real? Whoever heard of the Findlay Sentinel Findlay Sentinel?”
”What are these for?” Duderstadt cried. He was a deep shade of purple.
Prime grinned. ”A book,” he said. ”I'm also a writer. A science fiction murder mystery.”
”A book.”
”There'll be a police detective character, but I think he'll die early in the narrative.”
Duderstadt glared at Prime. Then he swept up the materials into his arms and pulled open the door. Eckart stood there.
”Send him to the pit,” Duderstadt said. ”Let him rot there until his lawyer comes and gets him tomorrow.”
”You got it, hoss,” Eckart said.
Prime relaxed. Now he could get some more sleep.
”Hey, Duderstadt,” Prime said.
The detective turned.
”Just throw all that junk away,” Prime said. ”I don't need it anymore.”
CHAPTER 29
Kyle set up interviews with three lawyers before Christmas, but though all were sympathetic and believed the cases were winnable, none had time to work on them. Though John was depressed, Kyle a.s.sured him that someone would take the case.
”There's a requirement for pro bono work,” Kyle said. ”We just have to find the right lawyer who has the right time to work on this.”
”Sure,” John said.
”And even if we don't find someone before the January fifth meeting, I'll be there,” Kyle said. ”Though I can't say anything. Or be your lawyer. I can at least be there to make suggestions.”
”I appreciate that.”
On Christmas, John drove down to Bill and Janet's farm. He had small gifts for them, and though they welcomed him warmly and it looked like home, it wasn't. John left early and drove over to Casey's street. She had told him to pick her up at three thirty, but it was only one. He parked next to the curb in the slush one block up and sat in his car. He was afraid he was in love with Casey.
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