Redemption (Amos Decker #5)(17)

“Well, you’ve been establishing quite a rep for yourself at the Bureau. Ross Bogart keeps me updated.”

“Didn’t know that,” said Decker, the boxes pressed against his wide chest.

“Nice to know there are some things you don’t know,” said Miller. He eyed the boxes. “Lawyer’s files? Hawkins?”

“Yes,” responded Jamison.

“We’ll, I’ll let you get to it, then. It’s good to see you both. Let’s grab a beer later if you’re able.”

Decker said, “Can I ask a question?”

“Would it matter if I said no?”

“What’s going on with Mary?”

Miller folded his short arms over his thick chest. “Why do you think anything’s going on with her, Amos?”

“We know each other. Something’s off.”

“You knew each other. It’s been a couple of years. People change.”

“People don’t change that much,” replied Decker.

“Then ask her.” Miller wagged a finger at him. “Just be prepared for whatever answer she has. You up for that?”

Decker didn’t answer, and Miller didn’t look like he had expected a response.

“I appreciate your letting us work on the case.”

“Well, I want to get to the bottom of it as much as you do. If we messed up, we have to make it right. You have my full backing.”

“Thanks, Mac,” said Jamison.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He disappeared back inside his office.

They proceeded to the room and Decker put the twin boxes down on the metal conference table. He took off his coat and slung it over a chair back.

Taking the top off one box, he said to Jamison, “I’ll take this one. You go through the other.” He slid it over to her.

“What exactly are we looking for?” she asked, opening the box.

“Hopefully you’ll know it when you see it.”

She sighed, sat down, and lifted out the first few files.

*



Four hours later they had each gone through both boxes.

“Not a whole lot here,” noted Jamison.

“This is the defense’s side of things. I’ve asked Mary to have someone pull the department’s files.”

“They keep things that long?”

“Probably only because nobody had the time to throw them out.”

“Ken Finger didn’t seem to have much evidence to go on.”

“That’s why the jury convicted his client after only two hours of deliberation. And an hour of that was spent at lunch.”

“He was pretty tough on you on cross-examination,” said Jamison, holding up a transcript of Decker’s time in the witness box.

“That was his job.”

“But you were quite firm in your statements.”

“Because I believed them to be true.”

“Meaning you no longer do?”

Decker looked at her over a piece of paper he was holding. “Meaning back then I didn’t necessarily see the forest for the trees.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I might have been so eager to get a conviction on my first homicide investigation that it didn’t strike me as odd that a guy would burgle a house that early in the evening when it might be full of people.”

“Well, maybe he wasn’t that smart. As has been pointed out, he wasn’t an experienced criminal. Maybe he didn’t know how to properly case a target.”

“Hawkins wasn’t dumb. And the thing is, he had never been in any sort of trouble with the law before. That didn’t mean much to me back then because the forensics were overwhelming. But to go from never having a parking ticket to four homicides is like going from hopping over a rain puddle to leaping across the Grand Canyon. It should have set off warning bells.”

“But like everyone’s been saying, he probably didn’t go in there thinking he was going to kill anyone. Then it just went sideways.”

“Granted, he was desperate. His wife needed pain medicine. His daughter was a drug addict he was trying to help. He might have felt he was up against a wall. He went there just to steal and, like you said, everything might have gone to hell after that.”

“And he had the cash in his pocket.”

“So if had the money, why was he still wandering around when he was picked up by the cops?”

“Maybe he was trying to score the drugs to help his wife.”

“Maybe,” said Decker. “But the thing is, there was a house next to the Richardses’ that was empty that night. I’m not talking about the uninhabited one. I mean the Ballmers. They were out of town visiting relatives. Why not go there instead and break in and steal stuff, and avoid having to murder four people? And why did he pick that neighborhood of all places? It was a long way from where he lived.”

“It was also isolated.”

“I don’t think that’s a good enough reason.”

“The guy who lived there was a banker. Maybe in Hawkins’s mind that meant there would be valuable stuff to steal.”

“I think that’s a stretch. By no means was that the rich part of town. If you’re a burglar, you don’t go to skid row to do your business. You go where the money is.”