City Dark(51)

“Do people know you’re a lawyer?” she asked. “That can cut both ways.”

“I don’t think anyone cares.”

She nodded. “Well, I hear you need counsel.”

“I’ll find someone. Look, if Craig put you up to this, I’m sorry. It’s not that I wouldn’t want you to represent me—”

“I know,” she said, cutting him off lightly. “You don’t want me wrapped up in it.”

“Correct. I don’t.”

“I wasn’t sure about it either. Believe me, though, that Craig didn’t put me up to anything. I mean, sure, he’s playing us both. I could see that. It’s what he does.” The last word was higher and accented. “But he does it for the right reasons, most of the time.”

“Craig told you what he thinks?” Joe asked. Aideen’s blithe, almost throwaway line about Craig “playing” them both—as if this were some kind of game and not the most serious thing imaginable—had not escaped him.

“Yeah,” she said. “Aaron Hathorne setting this all up? I can see it. You can’t?”

“I can see it, but . . .” He trailed off and was quiet. Aideen seemed to wait patiently. He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped down. He wanted more than anything not to say the next thing. He had never said it aloud. It was horrifying to contemplate. He looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. “Let me ask you a question. What if I think I could have done it?” He held eye contact with her, willing her not to look away. She did not look away.

“What if I don’t care?”

“Oh, come on, Aideen, this isn’t you.”

“It is now. I represent you.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“When you were a defense attorney,” she said, “did you ever ask your clients if they did the thing they were charged with?”

He thought for a moment and answered truthfully.

“No.”

“In fact, you kind of did the opposite, right? It was like, ‘Don’t tell me if you’re guilty or not. Just tell me everything you know about the case.’ Am I right?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Okay, so let me do my job. The government has its job, and I have mine. That’s how this goes.”

“You know, Craig might be seeing things,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. I know he doesn’t want to believe it could have been me, but this Hathorne theory, or whatever it is, sounds weird. I mean, really.”

“Doesn’t mean it couldn’t fit. Hathorne went after you hard. I saw it coming.”

“I don’t have the resources to take on Hathorne. I don’t have the methods. Even if I thought this whole thing was somehow being spun by him, how would I uncover it? How would we uncover it?”

“Not sure yet,” she said. “You need to be a little more patient; we’re just getting started.”

“Why? Really, Aid, why are you doing any of this?”

“Maybe Craig’s right,” she said. “Maybe I just need something to do. Something new.”

“You’ve got three kids.”

“They’re fine.”

“I’d much rather that Aaron Hathorne never have an inkling about you. Or them. I’m not kidding.”

“I know you’re not,” she said. There was no trace of a grin on her face. It was dead set and stony.

He sighed. “So now what?”

“Now we begin. Tell me everything you know about the case.”

“But not if I’m guilty.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily believe you anyway, whatever you said.”

“You’re a pisser, Aideen Bradigan. Craig’s right about that.”

“We’ll see.” She took out a yellow legal pad and clicked a pen. “Go.”





CHAPTER 43


2:35 p.m.

“So the last contact you had in any way with Hathorne was a few weeks ago, right?” Aideen asked. Joe glanced up at the clock. They had been talking for almost two hours. The afternoon count took place at three, so they would need to wrap things up soon. Anyway, he was exhausted. He assumed she had to be also, but she seemed brimming with energy. She had written pages of notes as they spoke.

“Um, yeah. It was the yearly confinement review, right before Lois was killed. That week, in fact.”

“Did he say anything to you directly?”

“No, not to me.”

“He didn’t go rogue, say anything threatening?”

“No, he was a little smarter this time. He didn’t even look at me, and with the judge he was polite, calm, and collected. He’s still acting like an asshole in the hospital, though. That’s what kept him in.”

“You mean at St. Lawrence?” she said.

“Yeah, that’s where they’re treating him. Whatever that means.”

“Right, okay.” She sighed and scrunched up her lips as if trying to recall something. She thumbed through her notes, then looked up at him. “Did he ever go after your brother?”

“Robbie? No, I don’t think so.”

“Have you ever mentioned Hathorne to Robbie?”