Page 28
"Whys that?"
"Because Im not sure I see the point. "
"Biggest story all year," he said. "Man sells newspapers even when he dont do nothin. "
"Where is he now that we need him?"
"Whole citys holdin its breath, wants to know what hes gonna do next. Say hes retired, but maybe he bidin his time. Everybody waitin on his next move, wonderin whats the next name on his list. "
"But we know better. "
"When you know the truth," he said, "dont you have to tell somebody? Isnt that what detectin is, findin out the truth an tellin somebody?"
"Not always. Sometimes its finding out the truth and keeping it to yourself. "
He thought about it. "Be a real big story," he said.
"I suppose so. "
"Story of the year, what theyd be callin it. "
"Every month theres another story of the year," I said, "and every year theres a story of the decade and a trial of the century. One thing well never have to worry about is a shortage of hype. But youre right, it would be a big story. "
"Get your name in all the papers. "
"And my face in front of a lot of TV cameras, if I wanted. Or even if I didnt. Thats almost reason enough right there to keep the story quiet. "
"On account of you shy. "
"Id just as soon stay out of the spotlight. I dont mind having my name in the paper once in a while. It draws clients, and while I dont necessarily want more business its nice to be able to pick and choose. But this wouldnt be a little publicity. This would be a circus, and no, I wouldnt want to be the trained seal in the center ring. "
"So Wills secret be safe," he mused, "just because you dont want to go on Geraldo. "
"I could duck most of the publicity. I could feed it to Joe and let him whisper it into the right ears. Hed find a way to make sure other people got the credit. Thats probably what Ill do, if I do anything. "
"But you might not even do that much. "
"I might not. "
"Why?"
"Because hes a sleeping dog," I said, "and maybe the decent thing is to let him lie. "
"How you gonna decide?"
"By talking to people. "
"Like we doin now?"
"Exactly like were doing now," I said. "This is part of the process. "
"Glad I helpin. "
"Ill go home and talk to Elaine," I said, "and later on Ill talk about it at a meeting. I wont be specific, and nobody will know what Im talking about, but itll help me clarify my own thoughts on the subject. And then theres somebody else I think Ill talk it over with. "
"Whos that?"
"An attorney I know. "
He nodded. "Seems like dont nobody do nothin without they first got to talk it over with a lawyer. "
* * *
Elaine and I had dinner at Paris Green, on Ninth Avenue, and our conversation stayed on a single topic from the portobello mushroom appetizer clear through to the cappuccino. I walked her back to the Pare Vend?me and continued on up Ninth to St. Pauls. I got there ten minutes late, and settled into my chair just as the speaker reached that point in the story where he took his first drink. Id missed the history of his dysfunctional family, but I could probably get along without hearing it.
During the break I helped myself to coffee and chatted with a couple of people, and when the meeting resumed I got my hand up and talked about having to make a decision. I was wonderfully vague, and no one could have had a clue what I was getting at, but thats not atypical of AA shares. I talked about what was on my mind, and then a TV set designer talked about whether or not he was going home to Greenville for Thanksgiving, and then a woman talked about being on a date with a man who was drinking nonalcoholic beer, and how the whole thing had done a number on her head.
After wed folded the chairs, I walked with some friends as far as the Flame, but turned down an invitation to join them for coffee, pleading a previous engagement. I headed over to Columbus Circle and rode the IRT local downtown to Christopher Street. By 10:30 I was standing on a stoop on Commerce Street, using a door knocker shaped like a lions head.
Commerce Street is two blocks long and off the beaten path, and it can be hard to find. Id put in enough time at the Sixth Precinct so that I still knew my way around the Village, and Id had occasion to get to this particular block several times in the past couple of years. Once Elaine and I had caught a play at the Cherry Lane Theater, just across the street. My other visits, like this one, were to Ray Gruliows town house.
I didnt have to linger long on his stoop. He drew the door open and motioned me inside, his face bright with the smile that is his most winning feature. It was a smile that said the world was a great cosmic joke, and you and he were the only two people who were in on it.
"Matt," he said, and clapped me on the shoulder. "Theres fresh coffee. Interested?"
"Why not?"
The coffee was strong and rich and dark, worlds removed from the bitter sludge Id sipped out of a Styrofoam cup in the basement of St. Pauls. I said as much and he beamed. "When I go to St. Lukes," he said, "I take my own coffee in a thermos jar. My sponsor says its my way of distancing myself from the group. I say its more a matter of distancing myself from a gastritis attack. Whats your opinion?"
"I agree with both of you. "
"Ever the diplomat. Now. What brings you here beside the lure of my most excellent coffee?"
"The last time we spoke," I said, "you defended Adrian Whitfield against a charge of suicide. Do you remember?"
"Vividly. And shortly thereafter Will was good enough to send off a letter that validated my contention by claiming credit. "
I took another sip of the coffee. It was really something special.
I said, "Adrian killed himself. He wrote the letter. He wrote all those letters, he killed all those people. He was Will. "
15
"It could have been murder," I said, "even if I couldnt figure out how Will had managed to pull it off. Assume he had his ways, assume he could scale the side of the building and get in through a window, or unlock the door and disarm the burglar alarm system and reset it afterward. It was a real locked-room puzzle, though, any way you looked at it.
"But if it was suicide, the hell, whats simpler than poisoning your own whiskey? He could have done it whenever he had a few minutes alone, and that gave him plenty of opportunity. Just uncap the bottle, pour in the cyanide crystals, and put the cap back on. "
"And be sure not to drink from that particular bottle until youre ready to catch the bus. "
"Thats right," I said. "But were back to the points you raised earlier. Why, in the absence of any kind of a financial motive, go to all that trouble to make suicide look like murder? And, motive aside, why wrap it up in a locked-room puzzle? Why make it look like an impossible murder?"
"Why?"
"So that Will would get the credit, and look good in the process. This would be Wills last hurrah. Why not make it a good one and go out with a bang?"
He thought about it, nodded slowly. "Makes a kind of sense if hes Will. But only if hes Will. "
"Granted. "
"So how did you get that part? Because if its just a hypothesis that you dreamed up because its the only way to make sense out of the locked-room-murder-that-has-to-be-suicide…"
"Its not. Theres something else that got me suspicious. "
"Oh?"
"That first night at his apartment," I said, "he didnt have booze on his breath. "
"Well, for Christs sake," he said. "Why didnt you say so earlier? Jesus, Im surprised you didnt arrest the son of a bitch right then and there. "
But he listened without interrupting while I explained my recollection of that first visit to Whitfields Park Avenue apartment. "He made a point of saying hed been drinking when he hadnt," I explained. "Now why the hell would he lie about something like that? He wasnt a heavy drinker, and he didnt claim to be a heavy drinker, but he did drink, and he even took a dr
ink in front of me. So why the subterfuge, why pretend to have had a couple of drinks earlier in the evening?
"I didnt have to be able to answer that in order to conclude that hed lied to me, and I didnt think hed do that without a reason. Well, what did the lie accomplish? It underscored his claim of having been really rattled by Wills threat. What was he saying, really? Something along the lines of, Im truly and righteously scared, in fact Im so scared that Ive already had a couple of drinks today, and now Im going to have another one and you can stand there and watch me do it.
"Why would he want me to think he was scared? I busted my head on that one. What I came up with was that the only reason hed have for going out of his way to impress me with his fear was because it didnt exist. Thats why he had to lie about it. He wanted me to think he was afraid because he wasnt. "
"Why bother? Wouldnt you assume he was afraid, getting marked for death by some clown who was riding a hot streak? Wouldnt anybody?"
"Youd think so," I said, "but he knew something I didnt. He knew he wasnt afraid, and he knew he had nothing to be afraid of. "
"Because Will couldnt hurt him. "
"Not if he was Will. "
He frowned. "Thats a pretty big leap of logic, wouldnt you say? Hes pretending to be afraid, therefore hes not afraid, therefore hes got nothing to fear. Therefore hes Will, master criminal and multiple murderer. I dont remember a whole lot from my freshman logic class, but it strikes me theres a flaw in the ointment. "
"A flaw in the ointment?"
"The ointment, the woodpile. Maybe hes not afraid because hes got terminal cancer and he figures Wills just doing him a favor. "
"I thought of that. "
"And, since hes keeping his illness secret from the world, he puts on an innocent act in order to keep you from wondering why it doesnt upset him more to be Wills next headline. "
"I thought of that, too. "
"And?"
"I had to admit it was possible," I said, "but it just didnt ring true. The motive for subterfuge seemed pretty thin. So what if I didnt think he was afraid? Id just figure him for a stoic. But if what he wanted to cover up was the fact that he was Will, well, you could understand why hed be moved to keep that a secret. "
"Where did you go from there?"
"I took a look at the first murder. "
"Richie Vollmer. "
"Richie Vollmer. Adrians client, now free to do it again. "
"Anybody would have gotten Richie off, Matt. It wasnt Adrians doing. The states case fell apart when the Neagley woman hanged herself. Its not as though Adrian handed her the rope. "
"No. "
"You think he felt responsible?"
"I wouldnt go that far. I think he saw Richies release as a gross miscarriage of justice, and I think he read Marty McGraws column and came to the conclusion that Marty was right. The world would be a better place without Richie in it. "