Carstans slipped around them and came over to me. He asked, "Was it your brother who did all this?"
I was on the verge of answering when I felt John's hand on my shoulder. "We need to talk to our client." I just looked over my shoulder at him and nodded. The unknown man next to John must have been another lawyer.
Carstans just nodded and muttered an assent. He went to the door and knocked on it, and it opened. The sergeant and the lieutenant kept arguing as they went out the door.
Once we were alone, John sat down. "How are you doing, Carl?"
"Okay, I guess. Better than Hamilton is doing." I turned to the other fellow and asked, "Who are you?"
John answered for him. "This is Robert DeAngelis. He's a criminal attorney here in Towson, probably the best in the county."
"Mister Buckman.", he said by way of greeting.
"Pleased to meet you. I'd shake your hand but, well..." I rattled my handcuffs and smiled at him. I turned back to John. "A criminal attorney? You can't handle this?"
"It's one thing for me to dig you out of a school fight when you're thirteen. It's quite different when you've killed somebody. You need him, Carl."
I turned back to DeAngelis. I shrugged and said, "Nothing personal. Welcome aboard. Has John told you what's been going on in my life?"
DeAngelis had a pleasant baritone and a look of confidence and surety. He probably did great with juries, especially if they had a lot of women on them. "Yes, but we'll get to that in a moment. First, have they processed you into the system yet? Fingerprints, photographs, that sort of thing? Have you been booked yet?"
"No. I've just been sitting in a cell since I got here. I think they're still trying to figure out who owns me.", I answered.
He smiled at that. "That actually makes things a touch simpler. Now, I want you to tell me what has happened, right from the start. Just imagine I've never heard of you or your case, and have never talked to anybody about you. Start from the beginning."
For the next hour and a half, I went through everything with the pair of them, starting with the night Becky called the cops the night of the reunion. About halfway through the talk, there was a rap on the door and Detective Carstans came in. "Any idea when we can talk?", he asked.
DeAngelis answered, "We'll let you know.", dismissing him.
Carstans snorted and smiled. "You just do that. By the way, for the time being, you belong to us. That can always change, though, so be nice to me." He left and I finished my tale.
One interesting thing that DeAngelis asked about several times was the knife that Hamilton had carried. "And you say that it wasn't your knife? It wasn't a kitchen knife or something like that?"
"No, no way. It looked to me like a Bowie knife or something. It was ridiculous, way too big to be useful. Besides, I know the knives around the house, it was nothing like them."
"How so?", he asked.
"Well, there's the butter knives in the kitchen, and the steak knives, and the kitchen knives - you know paring knives and chef's knives and stuff. I got them all as a set, you know what I mean?" He nodded and I continued. "Other than that, I have a pocket knife, a Buck knife with a lockback blade. That's in my bedroom right now. In the den I have a couple of Gerber combat knives, including a mini-knife I use as a letter opener, but they're nothing like what he had with him."
He quizzed me some more about the knife and also the timing of his visit today. I also had John tell him some more about the security company who was watching over Marilyn and Charlie.
The one thing I left out was that Hamilton was on the verge of leaving, when I called him back and shot him. I knew enough to know that if I said he was advancing towards me, I could call itself self defense. What really happened, which was just as much a case of self defense to my mind, would probably be called murder. I would have to take those last few seconds to the grave with me. Hamilton would probably meet me in hell to exact his revenge.
I asked a question. "When can I call Marilyn and let her know what happened?"
"Maybe later today. She won't be able to come home, though. Right now your house is a crime scene.", said John.
"Yeah.", I sighed. "Still, she'll be better knowing this is over. Do we talk to the cop now?"
John looked at DeAngelis, who nodded. John went to the door and knocked on it. The door was opened and John spoke to whoever was on the other side. The door shut again and we waited another ten minutes for Carstans to show up. He had a thick folder with him.
First, however, John said, "Let's get the cuffs off our client first. You know him by now. He's not a flight risk and he's not dangerous."
Carstans shrugged. "Probably not. Try not to run on me, Carl. I'd hate to let the Staties shoot you." He undid my cuffs.
I immediately stretched and then rubbed my wrists. "Thanks, Lew.", I said to him.
"You want to tell me what happened now?", he asked.
I glanced over at DeAngelis, who nodded, and told Carstans everything. He already knew about the firebomb attack, and how I had sent my family away for safety. He also knew I had owned the Colt. He hadn't been out to the house, but the reports were already filtering back that the bullets went in the front, so it wasn't like I had chased Hamilton down and shot him in the back. DeAngelis stressed several times that any knife found needed to be examined and possession needed to be determined, and how it wasn't my knife. If Hamilton was the owner of the knife and brought it into my house, it was case closed, self defense.
"When can our client be released?", asked DeAngelis.
Carstans stared at him. "That's a very good question, counselor. I'm not even sure he's going to be released."
"Detective, please, you know and I know this is never even going to trial, let alone jail time. Why don't you save the state the cost of a trial they will never possibly win and let him loose now?"
"Maybe it will and maybe it won't, but that isn't for me to decide."
I held up my hand for a moment, and then leaned over to whisper to my two lawyers. "Does it help any if we can prove that Hamilton was crazy? I mean real go-see-a-shrink crazy?"
"You have proof of that?", asked DeAngelis.
"I have a copy of a psychiatric report, stating he was a paranoid schizophrenic. I also have a copy of a police report from when he was a teenager and tried to sabotage my car." I turned towards John. "Remember, that's the reason I moved out of the house back then."
He looked at DeAngelis and nodded.
DeAngelis sat upright, so John and I did, too, and he said, "Detective, would it make any difference if we offered proof that the deceased was clinically insane, and had threatened our client before?"
That made Carstans sit upright. "Really? Why didn't you ever tell us this before?"
"Hey, until today, Hamilton wasn't even on the radar screen. I had no idea he was involved. I don't even know how he found us! Besides, with all of the people you asked me about, we never knew who was important. Marilyn and I've known he was nuts from the time he was a kid!"