The Family Game(39)
It always helped that he answered with a certain light-heartedness, given the sometimes unsettling nature of the content. We’ve kept in touch via email since, and spoke most recently last week, in the final frantic throes of my new novel’s first draft deadline.
We know each other fairly well by now, a shared language emerging from his honest disclosure and my unending interest in his answers. We’ve certainty duked out a lot of plot strands together, though this might only be the fourth time we’ve actually met in person.
‘Uh-huh. Second book. Exactly. Just piecing it all together,’ I say with a smile. And in a way it’s true. My questions are about a family, a family with the power to cover up anything. But it isn’t my book I need Deonte’s help with this time. It is my life.
He shakes his head, slow, and stirs his coffee. ‘I don’t know where y’all come up with these ideas. So, in this one, a girl finds a tape cassette with a confession right there on it. Ha. Now that is a case I would have killed to be on.’
‘Why, because it’s a sure thing? Convictable? Given the evidence?’ I ask, perhaps a little too hopefully.
Deonte raises an eyebrow. ‘Nah, because it sounds like a fun one. I think you know by now, at least from our conversations, most crime, well, it ain’t fun. It’s a god-awful, draining, soul-destroying slog. But this tape, now that sounds tasty – juicy, exciting, you know. Like a movie. I’m in. Hell, I wanna read it now.’
‘Well, that’s a good sign.’ I give a reassured smile. ‘So, my main character, the girl, is given this tape by the perpetrator of the crimes. But, here’s the thing, the crimes mentioned on it, it’s not clear if they really happened or if this man is stringing her along, toying with her. She doesn’t know if the events described are real,’ I add, then break off, unsure how to get to the nub of what I’m asking. ‘I guess I want to know what evidence she’d need in order to take this to the police? To be sure it wasn’t a fake, or to ensure a conviction without leaving herself open to reprisal.’
‘Reprisal? Who’s the tape maker? What type of guy? What type of killer? You know, background, motive?’ he asks, his tone serious now, his old NYPD instincts kicking back in and lifting Deonte from friendly greying retiree back to a force to be reckoned with.
‘He’s rich, well connected… incredibly powerful,’ I say carefully.
He winces. ‘Trump-y?’
‘Definitely not. Old, old money. Ingrained in everything. Establishment.’
Deonte studies my face for a moment and I suddenly wonder how much he knows about my private life. If he knows about Edward and the Holbeck family. If he does, he doesn’t mention the glaring equivalency. But then, why would he? Authors write close to home, and I am just an author with a few outlandish questions.
‘Damn. So, he’s playing cat ’n’ mouse, taunting her. Okay, now we’re talking. She can’t let on she knows, until she’s sure it’s real. Can’t tell the police, can’t be sure if this whole thing’s a scare tactic. And she’s got to be careful who she trusts, because if that tape’s real, and this guy is that powerful, anyone could be feeding what she does back to him. Leaks in departments, hired hands – yeah, got it: one false step and she’s toast.’
A flicker of doubt blossoms inside me. Leaks in departments, hired hands, trust. I suddenly wonder if I should even be speaking to Deonte. My connection to him comes through my publisher, after all, and the Holbecks have proved their reach on that front already.
I push the paranoid thought away. If push comes to shove, I’m confident Deonte’s got my back. ‘Exactly. She can’t trust anyone until she has real evidence that the tape is an actual confession. Then she can decide whether to hand it over to someone.’
‘Sensible. She’s got a job, reputation, I’m guessing? Doesn’t want to make a fool of herself if the tape maker refutes the validity of the recording.’ I nod. ‘So, seems reasonable she’d need to be sure the people mentioned in the confession are real people, and they’re dead people. Best not to go to the police until then, if she doesn’t want a libel case or worse hanging over her. Even then, if she does find a death, she’d need to find something suspicious about it; she’d need to look at cause of death. If it’s murky, though, or in keeping with that confession – well, then, she’s cooking with gas.’ He looks momentarily pained. ‘Thing is, if these victims are just missing, you got problems. That’s trickier. It’ll be easier for your plot if she finds an actual body, then they can exhume, run a fresh autopsy if there wasn’t one first time round. Things are much more accurate these days, if they got missed the first time – less cracks to slip down.’
‘And if the girl finds something? If the tape is real?’
Deonte lets out a puckish whistle. ‘If the confession is real. If she finds a body, and the circumstances of death are hazy, then it’s go-time; she needs to lawyer up and hunker down. Then it’ll be a legal battle there on out. Full OJ.’ He ends with a flourish before adding, ‘Oh, and wait, before I forget – this girl, she damn well better copy that tape cassette. I don’t wanna be screaming at this book: Why didn’t you copy the damn thing?’
‘Noted,’ I say gratefully. It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but the import of this hits home.