The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(29)

Mars looked at him funny. “That’s right. How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess. And that was just the bonus?”

“Right. You got more over the course of the contract, but the signing bonus was the thing. And I was looking at maybe a seven-year deal that I could opt out of in three years. If I made All-Pro and led the league in rushing, I could write my own ticket. I mean, my next contract would make my rookie deal look cheap.”

“But you never got that chance,” said Decker.

“Does it look like I did?” he snapped.

“So what did your father say to you about it?”

“He wanted to be taken care of. I told him I would.”

“But?” said Decker.

“But…but he said he wanted something in writing. To make it, you know, legally binding.”

Bogart looked at Decker. “This wasn’t part of the trial transcript.”

Decker kept his gaze on Mars. “No, it wasn’t. And why was that, Melvin?”

Mars sat up. “That was one of the reasons why I didn’t testify at trial. My lawyer was afraid if I got asked about it I would have to reveal it.”

“Reveal what?”

“That I signed a one-page contract saying that thirty percent of my rookie contract would go to my parents.”

“And what happened to this contract?” asked Bogart.

“I guess it don’t matter now.” He let out a long breath. “I got rid of it.”

“How, in a fire maybe?” Bogart said sharply.

“Hey, I know this doesn’t look too good for me.”

“That is an understatement,” retorted Bogart.





CHAPTER

17



WITHOUT TAKING HIS eyes off Mars, Decker said, “Agent Bogart, can you give us a minute, please?”

Bogart looked like he was going to say no, but Decker added, “Just two old footballers going to have a little one-on-one. That’s all.”

Bogart slowly rose. “I’ll be out in the hall.”

When the door had closed behind him, Decker drew his chair a little closer to the bed. He put his large hands on top of the bed’s side rail.

Mars said, “Okay, I see how this is playing out. You’re here just to trick me and make sure I go back to prison. Well, I ain’t talking to you anymore without my lawyer being here.”

“I already told you, Melvin, I’m here to find the truth. If you didn’t kill your parents I will do everything in my power to prove that and get you out of prison with a full pardon.”

“I didn’t kill my parents. But I’ve been sitting in a prison cell for two decades getting ready for the needle, and then having to wait some more and then get ready for it again. You know what that’s like?”

“Not even close,” said Decker.

Mars looked surprised by this comment. He glanced toward the door. “Why’d you ask your partner to leave?”

“I thought you might be more comfortable just talking to me and not the FBI.”

“But you’re with the FBI.”

“Until about two weeks ago I was living in a dump in the middle of Ohio with about sixty bucks in my pocket and not much of a future beyond shit PI cases.” He paused. “If you still want your lawyer, I’ll leave right now.” He stood.

“Hold on. You…you told me my case was similar to something to do with your family?”

“Certain parallels, yes.”

“What happened to your family?”

Decker sat back down. “Somebody murdered them. My wife, daughter, and brother-in-law. I found the bodies when I came home from work one night.”

All the hostility in Mars’s features disappeared. “Damn, man, I’m sorry.”

“About sixteen months went by with no arrests. Then this guy walks into the police station and confesses.”

“Shit, did he do it?”

Decker gazed at him. “It was a little more complicated than that.”

“Okay,” replied Mars, looking uncertain.

“But we got the people responsible. And they were held accountable.”

“They in prison?”

“No, they’re in graves.”

Mars’s eyes widened at this.

Decker said, “But that’s history and it’s over. Let’s talk about the present. Your present.”

Mars shrugged. “What you want me to say, Decker? I was a black man accused of killing his parents and one of them was white. Now, this is the South. This is Texas. Everybody loved me when I was a football star. But when I was charged I had no friends left. I was just a black dude fighting for my life. Hell, Texas executes more people than anybody else, and a whole lot of them are black.”

“The contract with your parents?”

“I knew I was innocent, but I listened to my lawyer. I can carry a football and score touchdowns, man. But I didn’t know anything about laws and courts back then.”

“So your lawyer knew about the contract?”

“Yeah, I told him. But he said we didn’t have to tell the prosecution nothing. It was their job to find out about it.”

“I guess technically that’s true.”

“But morally, I know, it sucks. I wanted to get on the stand and tell my story. I wanted folks to hear it from my point of view. But he convinced me not to. So I didn’t. Then we lost and I was screwed anyway.”