Matter of Trust (41 page)

There was silence as Gloria Kincaid's jaw clenched and her fingers twisted and her eyes began to glisten with the slightest trace of tears. She took a breath before turning ever so slightly to meet David eye to eye,
her back straight, her chin up, her voice now strong and determined.

‘The money I paid,' she said, ‘is it the only thing that links him to her?'

David couldn't believe what he was hearing. The woman knew her son would soon be on trial for murder, but still refused to see beyond the fact that he'd persisted in that forbidden affair.

‘This isn't about their relationship anymore, Gloria. Elliott Marshall will have evidence enough of that. This is about murder and the consequences of it.'

‘You think if I tell the truth about the money it will save him?'

‘No.'

‘But you said . . .'

‘It won't be enough.'

‘Then why would I . . .'

‘Because it's a start.'

She shook her head. ‘I thought she took it.'

‘She didn't.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Because I knew her.'

‘Then where did it go?'

‘The killer took it.'

And then, she nodded.

‘We need to know, Gloria,' continued David, slightly heartened that Gloria Kincaid finally seemed to understand the consequences of her actions, ‘if you told anyone else about the money, and if that person may have told a third party.'

He was fishing, he needed to find some link between Will Cusack and the money.

‘Rebecca knew, but I convinced her not to speak of it – for Chris's sake.'

‘Did anyone overhear you discussing it with her?'

‘No, it was a weekday. She was in my living room. We were alone.'

‘Might Rebecca have told Connor?' he asked.

‘Lord, no. She is very protective of him.'

Despite what he knew, David sensed that she was right.

‘You think the woman was killed for the money?' asked Gloria.

The woman.

‘I think $100,000 goes a long way toward motive.'

‘But if I told no-one – how . . . ?' She hesitated. ‘Perhaps the woman told someone?'

‘No,' said David – a half-truth. While David knew how hurt Marilyn must have been by Gloria's offer, and believed her pride would have prevented her from sharing such information in general, he guessed she had told Mike about the money on the day she also spoke of Chris's possible reaction to her potential threat to go public. But this conversation took place in the privacy of the confessional – an exchange between two friends who understood each other completely. So there was no way a third party could have overheard it – and no way Mike would ever have repeated it.

‘Then how did the killer know?' asked Gloria, jolting David from his thoughts. ‘And how did the woman's shoe get in my daughter-in-law's car, and how did he know where to find her, and . . . ?'

‘I'm sorry Gloria, as of right now, we just don't know.'

Gloria took a breath. ‘Fisk was going to plea,' she said, ‘which means he didn't believe Chris had a chance of beating this thing.'

David said nothing.

‘But you do.'

David nodded.

‘Then you must know that I will provide you with whatever you need to . . .'

‘I don't need your money, Gloria.'

‘No,' she shook her head. ‘What I mean to say is . . .' She swallowed as if this was one of the hardest conversations she had ever had. ‘You have my support, as my son's attorneys,' she said before stepping slightly to her left to meet Sara's eye. ‘I think I may have been rude before.'

‘You think?' repeated David, unable to help himself.

‘I know I was rude,' Gloria corrected herself. She looked at Sara again. ‘I am sorry.'

‘It's okay. He's your son,' replied Sara as she held Lauren close. ‘In your own way, you were only trying to protect him.'

Gloria nodded, then moved slowly around David to address his mother. ‘Patricia, I behaved poorly. Can you forgive me?'

And in that moment, as the silence unfolded, David got a sense that those four simple words held a weight that he would never be able to
fathom – that her plea covered wrongdoings that cut so deep that his mother may never be able to offer the absolution that Gloria was asking for.

‘It's all right, Gloria,' said Patty Cavanaugh, her beautiful face calm. ‘I forgave you a long time ago – because I think I knew, at some point, that if I did not, I would not be able to be the right kind of mother to my children. I bear no ill will against you or your son. In fact, I pray for his release every day.' Patty took a breath, her eyes darting quickly toward David and Sara and back to Gloria once again. ‘Chris is lucky to have them,' she added, gesturing at David and Sara.

‘Yes,' said Gloria. ‘I know.'

 

Later that night, long after Patty had gone to bed and Lauren was finally settled in the cot in Lisa's old room next door, Sara lay close to David, her cheek resting softly on his chest.

‘Do you think you'll ever know?' she asked.

‘Know what?' David replied.

‘What she did to your mom, all those years ago.'

‘I don't think it was one thing, Sara. I think it was lots of different little things motivated by Gloria's determination to project her superiority. Who knows, maybe she was jealous. My mom is beautiful, she had a good husband, a loving family.'

‘No,' said Sara, ‘it's more than that – Gloria did something that cut deep. I saw it in your mom's eyes – the hurt, the pain.'

There was silence, until, ‘You think my mom is still trying to protect me?' asked David.

‘I'm sure of it.'

‘Then maybe I should ask her what it was.'

‘No.'

‘But you just said . . . ?'

‘You ask and she won't be able to protect you any more – do you understand?'

David nodded. ‘I think so.'

‘I hope I'm strong enough,' said Sara after a time, ‘to do the same for Lauren when she's older – to protect her from things she doesn't need to know.'

‘You won't have to,' he said. ‘We'll make sure there's nothing to protect her from.'

‘That's a nice sentiment, David, but I'm not sure that's possible.'

‘I can hope for a little longer though, can't I?' He wrapped his arms around her. ‘I mean, at least until she's one.'

‘You can hope forever.' She pulled him close. ‘You and me both.'

I
'm so sori. Wnt 2 make it up 2 U. Meet me @ Hilton A/port Hotel midnite. Luv C.

And then: Plse Marilyn. Rtn my txt. Meet me tonight. Bring the $100K. I will take bck. We need 2 talk. Plse. C.

The third text read: Ths is all my fault. I need 2 C U. The $ was a mistake. Want to take it bck. Meet me Hilton A/Port midnite. Plse. C x

And then finally, after Marilyn had replied with her ‘OK': Thank you. I prmis U wont regret it. Make sure U bring $. Rm undr Dallas Winston. Outsidrs Blong 2gether. C x.

‘Jesus,' said David, ‘you think he wanted her to bring the money?'

‘I know,' said Joe, who had faxed the handwritten translation to David's new office machine first thing. It was still early and the sun was pouring through the single east-facing window, capturing the normally invisible dance of the dust particles in its rays.

‘Susan is a genius,' said Sara into the speaker phone.

‘Susan is still trying to get her overworked FBI friend to take a look at the cell,' replied Joe.

‘Then this is Joe Jnr's handiwork?' David looked up toward the speaker phone. ‘You've bred a genius, Joe.'

‘Yeah,' added McNally, who had come to ‘work' in collar and tie. ‘We
could use him at the Newark PD.'

‘My kid's gonna pitch balls for the Red Sox, McNally,' said Joe. ‘Not dodge bullets for the city.'

‘Like you'd have done it any other way,' returned McNally.

Then there was silence until, ‘So how did the kid know so much?' asked Joe. David had given him a full briefing on their coup with the Hilton security tape at the beginning of their call.

‘Good question,' replied McNally, getting up to pace around their tiny brown-carpeted office. ‘He knew about
The Outsiders
thing, about Kincaid's break-up, and more importantly, the $100,000.'

‘I believe Gloria when she says she told no-one but Rebecca about the money,' said David, sitting forward on his red canvas chair. David had also shared the contents of the previous night's conversation with Gloria Kincaid with both Joe and McNally. ‘And I agree with her opinion that Rebecca would not have told Connor.'

‘Maybe the kid overheard his mom and grandma talking,' suggested Joe.

‘Connor was at school when the conversation took place.'

‘Then how in the hell did his text-happy friend find out about it?' asked Joe.

‘I have no idea,' replied David.

There was silence for a while as Sara moved to the corner of the office to grab three bottles of lukewarm water for herself, David and McNally. ‘David,' she said as she re-took her seat, ‘are you sure Marilyn wouldn't have told anyone bar her priest about the money?'

David had shared his thoughts regarding Marilyn's ‘confession' with Sara, McNally and Joe.

‘She was one of the proudest people I've ever known,' said David.

‘Sure, but the information about the money was leaked to Cusack somehow. Maybe Mike sought advice from someone else?'

‘No,' he said. ‘You should have seen Mike when he was editing the information for
me
– it was like he was being tortured. He's a good man, Sara, and an even better priest. He treats that confessional with respect. There is no way he would . . .'

And then it came to him, the seed of an idea.

‘Hold on,' he said.

‘What is it?' asked Sara, turning to face him.

David got to his feet. ‘Years ago,' he began, ‘when we were teenagers . . . Chris, Mike and I, we got up to some pretty mischievous stuff. Mike said it was illegal – under the law of man and God, he . . .'

‘Jesus,' said Joe from down the line. ‘You want to start making sense, David?'

‘We taped the confessions,' said David. ‘We snuck into the Saint Stephen's confessional and stuck one of those long-running miniature tape recorders under Father Patrick's chair, and we waited a while before going back to retrieve it.'

‘You taped people's confessions?' asked Sara in shocked amusement.

‘Yes. And the last time I saw Mike, he said something about Chris telling Connor and his friends the story – about what we did and how we almost got away with it.'

‘You think Kincaid gave this Will the idea?' asked McNally, incredulous. ‘That he mimicked your little prank and caught Maloney's confession on tape?'

‘It would explain how he knew about the relationship,' chimed in Sara, ‘and about Marilyn's reservations . . . the money.' She was up and pacing too. ‘He got the idea from the confession and—'

‘When she didn't turn up at the Hilton,' McNally cut in, ‘he went after her – looking for the money.'

‘But then maybe Maloney resisted,' contributed Joe. ‘And things got rough, and . . .'

‘You think this boy raped her?' asked Sara, her brow knotting as she turned her attention back to David. ‘I mean, the kid may be an opportunist, a liar and a thief, but rape and murder, David,' she shook her head, ‘that's a whole new ball game in anyone's imagination.'

David knew she was right.

‘You know anything about this kid's background?' asked Joe.

‘Not much,' answered David, before glancing toward McNally.

‘I'm on it,' responded McNally. ‘Maybe there's something in the kid's background that goes toward explaining his behaviour.'

‘It's explained a whole lot of shit in the past,' said Joe.

No-one spoke, the ramifications of what they were speculating slowly sinking in.

‘Jesus – the irony,' said Joe after a time. ‘If we are right, Kincaid signed
his own arrest warrant. He unwittingly gave this Cusack the idea that set this whole damned thing in motion.'

And David knew Joe was right. History had repeated itself – at the cost of Marilyn's life.

J
ack Delgado was at peace.

He was lost, in a memory triggered by the shock of pink in the cherry blossoms coating the grass around him, by the smell of the lake behind him, and the sounds from the elementary school boys now sprinting around the baseball diamond in front of him – uninhibited, energised, free.

‘Run,' he said to himself, as a red-haired kid hit a home run and charged around the Branch Brook Park bases with a look of pure triumph on his sun-kissed freckled face.

‘Attaboy,' he said, this time aloud. He clapped for the kid who was now being mobbed by his excited team mates. ‘Enjoy it while you can,' he whispered to himself, recalling the days when his dad used to bring him and Josh and their older brother Eddie here to teach them how to hit a curve ball like the best of them. ‘Because one day the truth will sneak up on you and you won't be ready to smack it out of the park. And then you'll be left all alone with no idea how in the hell to make your way back to that familiar home plate. And then you'll be lost in the spiral – running the bases like your life depends on it. And then the umpire will call you out and your future will be fucked forever.'

‘Jack,' said the voice, the very sound of it punctuating Jack's last thought.

‘Connor,' he said, getting to his feet to brush the dead cherry blossoms from his crushed school trousers. ‘How are you, man?' He reached for Connor's hand.

‘Okay, I guess,' said Connor. ‘Your mom know you're missing another day of school?'