‘Okay, what?’
‘You travel the world and go to exotic ports with your retired husband and be his love slave.’
Frannie put a hand over his. ‘The reason I love him,’ she said. ‘It’s that wacky sense of humor.’ Frannie parted his hand. ‘He’s had a long day.’
Mentioning Hardy’s day brought them all back to reality, but especially Sarah. It was why she had come over. As a witness she wasn’t allowed in the courtroom. She’d worked in the field all day and by now was a wreck, needing to know how it had gone. Hardy was honest with her. ‘It’s Soma’s turn. He gets to lay out his case first. Later I show up and slay him.’
Not amused, Sarah sighed. ‘I just don’t feel like I’ve done enough.’
‘You’ve done more on this case than any cop I’ve ever heard of, Sarah.’
‘It still doesn’t feel like enough. If they’ve only got one suspect and that’s Graham, then all Soma’s got to do is make the murder and there’s no other option.’
Hardy knew that this was mostly true, and it wasn’t much comfort to him either. And he didn’t even want to start on his fears about the jury. Putting a good face on it, he kept his tone light. ‘He won’t make the murder.’
‘But, Dismas, it was a murder. You and I both think it was a murder.’
‘You do?’ Frannie suddenly asked.
Uh-oh, Hardy thought. He hadn’t consciously been trying to hide anything from Frannie, but neither had he wanted to burden his wife with all the ins and outs of the case. She had her own life she was handling here on the home front, and much more efficiently, he felt, than he was handling many parts of his.
He had outlined for her the general theory of his defense and told her that he honestly believed that Graham hadn’t done it, but not that someone else had.
One of Frannie’s main complaints about her husband being involved with murder trials was the fact that he would be working with someone who had killed someone on purpose and thus had a slightly better-than-average chance of doing it again, perhaps to his attorney and/or attorney’s family.
Now Hardy shrugged. ‘It could have been. We knew that.’
Frannie played with it for a while, then balled a fist and brought it down on the table. ‘Shit,’ she said. ‘Just shit.’
‘What?’ Sarah asked. ‘Didn’t we know it?’
‘We knew it,’ Hardy assured her. ‘Frannie didn’t.’
Sarah reached a hand over the table. ‘That’s what I’ve been looking for all this time, Fran. Who killed Sal.’
Her flat, stunned gaze went from one of them to the other. She let out a deep breath. ‘I’m going to bed.’ And she was up and out of the room.
Sarah started to rise, to follow her. ‘Let her go,’ Hardy said ‘It’s all right. I’ll talk to her.’
She sat back down, arms crossed. ‘I’m sorry, I thought… I should go.’
‘No,’ he said sharply. ‘I want you to understand that we’ve got an outstanding defense going here. Even David Freeman thinks it’s good, and he’s Mikey as far as I’m concerned. It’s going to work. I believe it will work.’
‘And what if it doesn’t?’
He didn’t answer. There wasn’t an answer.
Sarah had her elbows on the table and blew into her steepled hands. ‘I could just quit my job,’ she said. ‘I could work on it full time.’
Hardy shook his head. ‘You’re better inside.’
‘I’m no good. I haven’t found anything. Sal wasn’t carrying anybody’s money that I can find. Hadn’t for years. Not even a sniff of it. Nobody killed what’s-his-name for his fish business.’
‘Pio,’ Hardy said, hating his damned memory.
‘I should go strong-arm George, Graham’s brother. Shake him down. Find out where he was.’
‘And get fired?’
‘It doesn’t matter. If he did it…’
Hardy reached across the table and touched her elbow. ‘Slow down. Slow down. Take a breath.’ He waited. ‘Listen, this is always the worst, after you’re committed and you don’t know how it’s going to go. You just got to believe you made the right decision, that’s how it’s going to work.’
‘But I can’t just sit here! I can’t!’
‘Graham’s just sitting there.’
This seemed to hit home. She took a breath, let it out heavily. ‘So? What then? I can’t believe we’ve got a righteous suspect with no alibi and nobody’s even-’
‘No, we don’t. Who’s that?’
‘George.’
Hardy shook his head. ‘George is not any kind of suspect. He doesn’t need an alibi. Nobody saw him near Sal’s, ever. There’s no prints, no medical background, no real knowledge of his father’s situation, even. If he was going to kill Sal out of rage, he would have done it differently. If he knew he was going to die soon anyway, why would he do it at all? Besides, he wouldn’t let his brother go to prison for the rest of his life.’
‘I bet he would if it came down to either Graham or him.’
Hardy pondered a moment. ‘Look, Sarah, it wasn’t Graham, right?’
‘Of course.’
‘He really didn’t do it? That’s what you think?’
She stared at him. ‘You do?’
‘No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. He didn’t do it, so I’m going on the assumption that they can’t prove he did. That’s the system. I’ve got to believe in it.’ In fact, Hardy had serious doubts about the system, and supposed that Sarah did, too, but this wasn’t the time to air them. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘if it makes you feel better, use some police magic and see if you can find out where George went, get some hard evidence: maybe he used a credit card, made a phone call.’
‘I wish Abe-’
Hardy shook his head, stopping her. ‘Abe’s got a suspect in custody. How is he going to justify continuing an investigation?’
Sarah sighed. ‘I know,’ she said at last. ‘I know. It’s just so frustrating.’
‘And you’re on the list for tomorrow, right?’ Meaning the witness list – she would probably be called the next day. ‘You ought to get some sleep. It’ll look better with a little rest.’
She sighed a last time and stood up. ‘Do you want me to go in and talk to Frannie?’
‘That’s all right,’ Hardy said. ‘We’ll work it out.’
Frannie was asleep, lying on her side facing away from his half of the bed. Her breathing was neither regular nor heavy, but she was asleep.
That was her story and she was sticking to it.
28
Hardy’s official workday the next morning carried over the tension from his kitchen. He’d finally fallen asleep after one o’clock and was up at five-thirty, going over his notes, trying to second-guess what would happen in the courtroom that day.
Frannie did not get up to make his coffee.
He was out of the house – he had to be out of the house – by seven-thirty, just as the kids and his wife were getting to the breakfast table. Kiss the kids good-bye – all he was doing anymore with them. Eyes from Frannie, no words in front of the children. Tonight maybe.
Then, at the Hall, waiting and waiting for his partner and co-strategist, David Freeman, who hadn’t arrived by the time the bailiffs brought Graham into the holding cell, surfer hair combed back neatly. He was putting on his civilian coat and tie at a few minutes after nine o’clock.
‘Where’s Yoda?’ Graham had christened Freeman after the Star Wars gnome. Hardy thought it a fairly astute characterization.
‘I don’t know. Probably doing a little cold-fusion work, keep his hand in.’ Studied nonchalance. In truth, though, Freeman’s absence left him with a low-voltage sense of unease – a good-luck charm misplaced. As though he needed any more bad vibes. But there was no point harping on it. Other matters pressed.
Hardy looked around behind him, lowered his voice. ‘You talk to Sarah this morning? She came by my house last night. She wants to go after your brother.’