Part 14 (2/2)
”Why don't you call Crane up and tell him to lay off? Your niece needs delicate handling.”
”You don't believe she's guilty of this murder?”
”I said I didn't. Tell him to lay off or he'll lose the next election.”
”I couldn't do that. He's my senior in county work.” But she was thinking about it. She shook the thought off. ”Speaking of which, I've given you all the time I possibly can. It must be past twelve.”
I was ready to leave. It had been a long hour. She followed me downstairs and out onto the veranda. I had the impression as we said goodbye that she wanted to say something more. Her face was expectant. But nothing came.
chapter 13.
The fog had thinned out a little along the coastline, but you still couldn't see the sun, only a sourceless white glare that hurt the eyes. The keyboy at the Mariner's Rest told me that Alex had driven away with an older man in a new Chrysler. His own red sports car was still in the parking enclosure, and he hadn't checked out.
I bought a sandwich at a drive-in down the street and ate it in my room. Then I made a couple of frustrating phone calls. The switchboard operator at the courthouse said there wasn't a chance of getting hold of a trial transcript this afternoon: everything was locked up tight for the weekend. I called the office of Gil Stevens, the lawyer who had unsuccessfully defended Tom McGee. His answering service said he was in Balboa. No, I couldn't reach him there. Mr. Stevens was racing his yacht today and tomorrow.
I decided to drop in on Jerry Marks, the young lawyer who had acted as Mrs. Perrine's defense counsel. His office was in a new shopping center not too far from the motel strip. Jerry was unmarried and ambitious, and he might be in it, even on a Sat.u.r.day afternoon.
The front door was open and I walked into the waiting room, which was furnished with maple and chintz. The secretary's cubicle behind the gla.s.s half-wall on the left was deserted for the weekend, but Jerry Marks was in the inner office.
”How are you, Jerry?”
”I'm all right.”
He looked at me guardedly over the book he was reading, an enormous tome ent.i.tled _Rules of Evidence_. He wasn't very experienced in criminal practice, but he was competent and honest. His homely Middle-European face was warmed and lit by intelligent brown eyes.
”How's Mrs. Perrine?” I said.
”I haven't seen her since she was released, and I don't expect to. I seldom see much of my ex-clients. I smell of the courtroom to them.”
”I have the same experience. Are you free?”
”Yeah, and I'm going to stay that way. I promised myself a clear weekend of study, murder or no murder.”
”You know about the Haggerty murder then.”
”Naturally, it's all over town.”
”What have you heard?”
”Really not very much. Somebody at the courthouse told my secretary that this lady professor was shot by a girl student at the college. I forget her name.”
”Dolly Kincaid. Her husband is my client. She's in a nursing home, under a doctor's care.”
”Psycho?”
”It depends on your definition of psycho. It's a complex situation, Jerry. I doubt that she's legally insane under the McNaghten rule. On the other hand I very much doubt that she did the shooting at all.”
”You're trying to get me interested in the case,” he said suspiciously.
”I'm not trying to do anything to you. Actually I came to you for information. What's your opinion of Gil Stevens?”
”He's the local old master. Get him.”
”He's out of town. Seriously, is he a good lawyer?”
”Stevens is the most successful criminal lawyer in the county. He has to be good. He knows law, and he knows juries. He does pull some old-fas.h.i.+oned courtroom shenanigans that I wouldn't use myself. He's quite an actor, heavy with the emotion. It works, though. I can't remember when he's lost an important case.”
”I can. About ten years ago he defended a man named Tom McGee who was convicted of shooting his wife.”
”That was before my time.”
”Dolly Kincaid is McGee's daughter. Also, she was the key witness for the prosecution at her father's trial.”
Jerry whistled. ”I see what you mean by complex.” After a pause, he said: ”Who's her doctor?”
”G.o.dwin.”
He pushed out his heavy lips. ”I'd go easy with him.”
”What do you mean?”
”I'm sure he's a good psychiatrist, but maybe not so much in the forensic department. He's a very bright man and he doesn't hide his light under a bushel, in fact he sometimes acts like a mastermind. Which puts people's backs up, especially if their name is Gahagan and they're sitting on the Superior Court bench. So I'd use him sparingly.”
”I can't control the use that's made of him.”
”No, but you can warn her attorney--”
”It would be a lot simpler if you were her attorney. I haven't had a chance to talk to her husband today, but I think he'll go along with my recommendation. His family isn't povertystricken, by the way.”
”It wasn't the money I was thinking about,” Jerry said coldly. ”I promised myself that I'd spend this weekend with my books.”
”Helen Haggerty should have picked another weekend to get herself shot.”
It came out harsher than I intended. My own failure to do anything for Helen was eating me.
Jerry regarded me quizzically. ”This case is a personal matter with you?”
”It seems to be.”
”Okay, okay,” he said. ”What do you want me to do?”
”Just hold yourself in readiness for the present.”
”I'll be here all afternoon. After that my answering service will be able to contact me.”
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