Silent Witness (24 page)

Carol Schmidt raised the cigarette to her lips. She held it there and flipped the lighter. In the glow of the small flame, her eyes looked sultry and with the cigarette between her lips, her voice was sadly dispassionate.

''Maybe, if he did something, it would have been a mercy killing.''

CHAPTER 24

''No,'' Josie barked.

''What?'' Carol Schmidt started as if she was surprised to still find Josie at the table.

''No,'' she said more quietly. ''That wouldn't be the case. It's an interesting theory, though.''

Josie gathered her things, distressed by what she had heard and determined not to show it. If Carol Schmidt had offered the same offhanded comment to the prosecution there was no doubt that Ruth would make this a cornerstone of her case. This would make sense to a jury. This was something that – God help her – for a minute, made sense to Josie.

''I think I better go. It's a long drive back home,'' Josie said, knowing there was nothing more she needed from Carol Schmidt.

''I live close. I think I'll stay a while longer,'' Carol answered, yet neither of them moved.

Josie knew what lay beyond the patio and couldn't imagine why Carol would want to stay. The sights and smells and sounds of the Greenwood Home seemed three-dimensional, an obstacle Josie would have to break through to leave and wash off when she got home. Now Josie understood why Archer balked at coming here. He couldn't bear all the trappings of sickness any more than she could. She glanced at Carol Schmidt sensing unfinished business.

''Since I told the prosecutor who contacted me, maybe I better tell you, too. I saw Archer get physical with Lexi. Just once. That's all,'' Carol said reluctantly.

''What happened?''

''I don't know all of it,'' she admitted. ''I want to be very clear that I just walked into the room at the wrong time. Archer had Lexi up against the wall. All I heard him say was 'stop it, just stop it'.''

''How was he touching her?'' Josie asked.

Carol's lashes fluttered. She sat up straighter and put out her hands. Her cigarette was between her fingers, a lazy plume of smoke rose into the darkness as her fingers curled to show Josie what Archer has done.

''He had her by the shoulders. He was pushing her. Sort of shaking her.'' Carol looked directly at Josie. ''Kind of like he was pushing her back into the wall but not really doing it. I could see his knuckles were white so he must have been holding her very tight. There was something in Lexi's expression – as if she was afraid or had just realized something terrible about Archer.''

''Are you sure? Maybe she was just surprised,'' Josie suggested, reaching for straws.

''I don't think so,'' Carol answered sorrowfully. ''I really don't.''

''When did this happen?''

''Just before Tim's accident. Two days before, I think. But I know whatever Archer did to Lexi it was done out of frustration. I'm positive that's all it was.''

''The district attorney will try to make it sound bad, you know that,'' Josie advised her.

''I do.'' Carol smiled sadly. Her cigarette had burned down. It was nothing more than a nub in her fingers. Her voice was filled with embers, too, the last vestiges of hope that life was fair had been burned away. ''And you'll make it sound like I'm an idiot who can't tell the difference between a discussion and a fight. My husband was hit by a drunk driver, Ms. Bates. That man's lawyer made James look irresponsible and arrogant. It took me years to realize that none of what happened in that courtroom was about justice. It was all about who could tell a better story.''

Carol didn't bother with the last puff. She put her cigarette out in the dirt, crushing it.

''So, you see, I have nothing to do with how my recollection is perceived. It's up to you to take care of that, or the prosecutor, or the media if they're interested. I'll be a good citizen. I'll show up in court and that's the most either of you can expect I suppose.''

''The DA wants to win. The difference is, I want the truth,'' Josie assured her.

Carol Schmidt appraised Josie a minute longer; in the next she tapped out yet another cigarette. The last things Josie heard were the snap of her lighter and Carol Schmidt's dubious observation:

''I'm sure you do.''

''Oh, Roger, I wish your father was alive. Not that I don't trust you as much as I did him but we were the same generation. It was different then. Men did business honorably. Now, I say something and next it's written down in a contract and it's never quite the way I say. Nobody understands the value of a handshake.''

Isaac carried on while Roger McEntyre poured a drink and set it in front of him. The old man had loosened his tie. His hair seemed thinner, his face more sallow than usual. Roger knew it was no trick of the light, Isaac had a day that would wear out any man.

''Settling on the boy who was killed three months ago isn't dishonorable, Isaac. It's good business,'' Roger assured him as he sat down opposite Isaac. ''I don't think it was the wisest settlement. Five million is a lot of money these days. Receipts are flat and there was no fault on our part. Hillerman said we could win if we went to court. Barring that, he was sure the family would have settled for two if we held out.''

''I know. I know.'' The old man was impatient to be talking about a problem that was put to bed. ''That stupid boy should have stayed seated and he would have been fine. We could holler from the mountain tops that it wasn't out fault and we'd still look bad. Nobody wants to know the truth. Everybody wants to think we're bad people, that our business is bad. Untrue. All of it. Still, people believe what they want.'' Isaac took a long drink. ''A jury would have settled millions more and we would have been ruined. If we waited them out on the settlement, the news people would make it look like we were trying to put the cheap on the price of a life. I took care of it quietly. This problem is gone away. The park needs good press now, not bad. It needs good everything now.''

''The Boy Scouts are going to hold a West Coast fun day here, Isaac,'' Roger said. ''We're tying in with all the local radio stations, giving access to television. We'll get that good press.''

''I hope so.'' With a sigh, Isaac set his glass aside and let his hand hang limply over the arm of the chair. ''Greater United Park may not want to buy my park, and if they don't acquire it then Pacific Park will disappear. I can't have that Roger. The only thing I have is my life's work and I don't want it to just go up in smoke, to be wiped off the face of the earth as if it never existed.''

''That won't happen, Isaac. You did the right thing settling on that family before we got to court. The other thing - Tim Wren's death - that will be out of the way in six months at the outside. That's as long as we have to hang on, Isaac.''

''Six months.'' Isaac sighed. ''Six months is a lifetime when you're my age, Roger.''

''It only seems that way in here, Isaac.'' Roger looked around the darkened office as if inviting Isaac to see what he saw. ''Go into the park. Things will look better.''

''You're right, Roger. You're always right.'' Isaac struggled to get up. Roger was ready to help but the old man made it on his own. Isaac found his jacket, put one arm in and took a minute to find the other. Finally, he shrugged into it, buttoned it, adjusted his shoulders. ''Still and all, I want to be sure about this thing with the Wren boy. I mean the operator could be saying things because he's worried for his job. You know how these girls and boys can be. I'm too close to meeting my maker to have that on my soul.''

Roger McEntyre walked with Isaac Hawkins to the door of the office. He had heard all this a hundred times since Archer's arrest and he would hear it a hundred more until the day Isaac died.

Wishing Isaac goodnight, Roger walked back to his own office. In less than an hour the park would close down. The cleaning and maintenance crews would descend like locusts to wipe away any sign that thousands of people had tromped through the park. Before they did, Roger had a little maintenance of his own.

In the corner of his office, in a panel hidden in the credenza, he found the two video tapes that had been put there long ago. Turning on his desk lamp he looked at them carefully. One sported the park's identification, the other had no label as if the person who sent it didn't exactly know what it should be called.

Deftly Roger slipped the first into the VCR and pressed play. He watched just long enough to confirm it was as he remembered. The second, unlabeled cassette went in and he watched that one no longer than he had the first. Unhurried, Roger went to his desk and methodically pulled the video tape from the plastic box, destroying the first cassette. The second was also destroyed. Roger pulled the label off the first one then piled the entire mess into his briefcase. He drove for two hours to find just the right place to throw the first tape. He drove another one and dumped the second. He had one more stop to make.

It was almost finished.

A few loose ends to clear up and all would be well.

''Moo shu?''

Amelia, held up a Chinese take-out container and Jude declined.

''I'll stick with what I've got,'' Jude said, momentarily taking note that Amelia, the associate Josie had found too good to be true, looked even more lovely with her shoes off and her long legs stretched out in front of her. She obviously didn't think he looked better at the end of the day. Her focus was on business and food in that order.

''I spoke to Collin Wren again today. He wants an answer on when we'll be back on track with his case. He wants dates. He's making me nuts. He's calling every day now.''

''He's a man with a mission,'' Jude said offhandedly as he set aside his food and reached for his drink. ''I've told him a million times, the minute the criminal trial ends I'll be on it. What's he think, I'm going to wait around for an invite before I get this up and running again?''

Amelia shrugged, ''I told him the same thing but that's not what he's calling about. He wants to know what we have on the criminal investigation. He wants to talk to you about bringing a civil action against the criminal defendant. Colin says he has researched it and knows he can file simultaneously with the criminal action.''

''Oh, Christ,'' Jude mumbled and stabbed at an elusive piece of beef. ''Now he's a lawyer. I swear.''

''What's up with him? I've never seen anyone so antsy to get their day in court. It's become an obsession with him. Are you sure his business is solid? Maybe he needs a cash infusion and he's relying on a big settlement to solve a company problem.''
''He's not going to get it by suing Archer,'' Jude scoffed. ''And, no, I didn't check him out. Why bother? We're looking at a contingency on a Pacific Park settlement, he's not footing the bill. But Colin is going to screw us royally, Amelia. I can feel it.''

Jude poked around in the little take out box.

''Colin wanted his day in court. He was willing to post the bond for Archer just to get it faster. Now he wants us to file in civil against Archer. The press will get a hold of that and crow that the victim's father now thinks Archer is guilty. The DA will start thinking Colin is on their side. If Archer is convicted, we're left with a civil suit against a guy who, compared to Pacific Park, doesn't have a pot to piss in.''

''You're going to have a heck of a time talking Colin out of doing this. He seemed hell bent on covering all his bases and that includes Archer,'' Amelia said.

''Well, I'm not about to throw all these hours down the drain for a settlement that won't pay the phone bill. Nope, we go for maximizing return on our investment and that means going after Pacific Park. Colin is not going to muddy those waters.''

''You know he asked me if I thought Archer was guilty,'' Amelia said offhandedly.

''Yeah? What did you tell him?''

''I told him that he was getting ahead of himself.''

''And he said.''

''He said he was tired of people saying things like that. He said, and I quote, 'doesn't anyone have any guts?'.''

''Charming.'' Jude took a deep breath. ''I think we're going to have to remind Mr. Wren that having guts and covering his bases is going to get him squat in the long run. If he wants to be compensated for his son's death it ain't going to be on Archer's back. I'll talk to him.''

''Good luck,'' Amelia drawled.

''I don't need it. Colin's not stupid and I've got some information that's going to refocus him real fast. Wilson called today. The chatter says one of Pacific Park's primary insurers is going to drop them. There are two more policies but it's like a house of cards – one insurer turns tail and the other ones will, too. If that park closes down we're just one in a long line of creditors. I wouldn't mind Colin settling for the land if he could get it but if the criminal case drags – or if Archer is convicted – the chances for a Pacific Park settlement are almost nil. Everybody else will get theirs before we can even put our hand out.''

Amelia pointed to him with a chopstick, a speck of plum sauce dropping into her lap.

''You want me to call and tell Colin that?'' she asked.

''God, no.'' Jude rolled his eyes. ''I'll do it. He's getting so squirrelly I think he's going to need it to come from the top.''

''And then there's the real problem,'' Amelia said.

''Which is?''

''Proof that he even deserves a settlement. We can't find anything that backs up his story about trying to find Tim. No letters. No phone records. We only have his word. I'm trying to run down some of the people who worked for the management company because he says he sent letters through them. If Pacific Park's people are any good they're going to put together some pretty fancy time lines that show Colin wasn't all that interested in his son over the last ten years.''

''Be that as it may,'' Jude answered, abandoning his food, ''it will have to be first things first. I'll get Pacific Park's financial information to Josie. She can make it look like they're using Archer as a scapegoat. Losing their insurance, losing out on a merger deal with Greater United Parks. . .''

''And don't forget they settled the other thing this morning. Five mil. That was a hit where it hurt,'' Amelia reminded him. ''All of this will add up to trying to pin the blame for Tim's death anywhere but on them.''