'Let
it go, Danny… let it go,' I could hear him saying.
And I
did.
And
it kept on coming.
Like
twelve years' worth.
It
must have been an hour or so later that Father John asked me about the events that
immediately followed my arrest.
I was
tired of talking, a bone-deep exhaustion pervaded my thoughts, my actions. But
I talked anyway, talked because talking was an exorcism, a catharsis, and
because Father John Rousseau wanted me to.
'Garrett
was the first interviewer?' Father John asked.
'Yes,
Lieutenant Garrett… hard bastard, unforgiving.'
'And
the first interview you had was without any legal representation present?'
I
nodded. 'It wasn't classed as an interview, that's why the information from it
wasn't thrown out in court. They read my rights back at the house, apparently
told me I could wait until legal representation arrived before I spoke, but
Garrett said that I'd started talking, that he was there at the time… like it
was just a coincidence that he heard what I had to say.'
'And
what did you say?'
I
shook my head. It was hard to recall the exact sequence of events.
'I
remember talking about the men that came to the house, that I'd seen them at
Eve Chantry's house, things like that.'
'And
Garrett didn't question any of it?'
'No,
he didn't say anything really. He sat there with this patient expression on his
face, like he was waiting for a bus or something. He prompted me every once in
a while, but he never really asked me a direct question.'
'And
you were in shock?'
I
smiled. 'I was on a different planet. I was sat in Greenleaf First Precinct in
an interview room, my clothes covered in blood, my hands and feet cuffed… and I
was dying to take a piss, I remember that, like I was gonna burst.'
'And
a lawyer came down?'
'Yes,
a lawyer came down, someone from the D.A.'s Office or someplace, but he seemed
like he really didn't want to be there. I remember how he first appeared to me,
like we'd woken him up, or dragged him out of a dinner party, something like
that. He seemed in an awful hurry to get out.'
'And
while he was there Garrett asked questions?'
'Yes,'
I said. 'He asked a lot of questions. He asked me how I knew Nathan. He seemed
to know about the fact that we'd been gone from Greenleaf for eighteen months.
He knew about Nathan's Draft Notice. He knew who Nathan's parents were.'
'And
all of this within a couple of hours of your arrest?' Father John asked.
'Less,
maybe an hour… it wasn't long between when I got to the Precinct and the lawyer
coming down.'
'And
what else did he ask you?'
I
shrugged. 'What we'd done when we left Greenleaf, where we'd been. He asked me
about my parents, about where I'd gone to school… all kind of things.'
'And
during this interview neither he nor the lawyer mentioned Linny Goldbourne.'
'Right,' I said. 'Her name didn't come up 'til the second or third interview -'
'And
there was no lawyer present at that interview?'
I shook
my head. Details were becoming clearer, almost as if the more I looked the more
I remembered.
'So
what was the scene with the confession?'
I
shook my head and sighed, it was not a confession.'
Father
John leaned forward expectantly, a sudden look of heightened interest in his
expression.
He
nodded, prompting me to go on.
'I
was talking, rambling a little… I remember I was tired, really tired. Garrett
was asking me about my relationship with Nathan, asking me about things we'd
done together, how my ma had felt about me befriending a negro in the '60s, how
many times I'd been to Nathan's house, how I got on with Nathan's folks… that
kind of thing. He asked me about these men at Eve Chantry's house -'
'I
told you already.'
Garrett
smiled, a practised smile. He was a hard-faced, brutal-looking man, a man who
looked like he had little time for emotions other than suspicion and anger.
From the moment I met him he frightened me.
'Tell
me again,' he said, trying his damnedest to sound interested, to sound
understanding and compassionate, though no such qualities were in his emotional
vocabulary.
'Dark
complexions, the first one shorter, heavier-set, the second one tall, thinner altogether,'
I said. 'Suits and ties, dressed like Feds or something.'
Garrett
smiled again, a little sarcasm in his expression. 'Like Feds?'
I
nodded. 'You know, dark suits, white shirts, dark ties, and the car they drove
was this sort of nondescript sedan.'
'Nothing
specific, nothing about them that could help us make some kind of
identification?'
I
thought for a while. I thought of nothing. I shook my head.
Garrett
nodded, and for a split second there was a smirk of satisfaction around his
mouth, as though he was pleased I could give him nothing specific.
'So
tell me some more about Nathan… if these guys warned him off when you spoke to
them at Eve Chantry's house, then why didn't you go back and tell him?'
I
shook my head. 'I was mad at him.'
'Because
he was fucking your girlfriend?'
'Not
that he was fucking my girlfriend… that they were so indiscreet about it.'
'Indiscreet?'
I
nodded. 'I suppose I half-expected that something would happen between them,
but I wished it had taken a little longer, and they'd been less exhibitionist
about it, you know what I mean?'
Garrett
shook his head. 'No, Mister Ford, I don't know that I
do
know what you
mean. All I see is that some people apparently warned you that there would be
trouble for Nathan Verney if he didn't stop seeing Linda Goldbourne, and you
had plenty of time and opportunity to warn him of this, this supposed best
friend of yours, and yet you said nothing, absolutely nothing. Seems to me, if
you consider it in this light, then either there was no warning and there were
no such men, or you and Nathan Verney were not friends at all and you wished
for something to happen to him.'
'No,
it wasn't that way… they did speak to me, they did tell me to warn Nathan, but
I was mad, I was upset with Nathan and Linny, and I should have told him and I
didn't. That was all there was to it… nothing else.'
'And
what would have happened if you'd told Nathan about your discussion with these
men?'
I
shook my head. 'I don't know.'
Garrett
leaned forward. He steepled his hands together and rested his elbows on the
table. 'Tell me what you think
might
have happened.'
I
shrugged my shoulders. 'Hypothetically?'
Garrett
nodded. 'Hypothetically.'
'Maybe
he would have done something… maybe both of them would have done something.
Maybe they wouldn't have been so obvious about the fact that they were seeing
each other.'
'So
if you'd said something then maybe he would be alive today… assuming, of
course, that the men you spoke to at Eve Chantry's house really did exist, and
that they were the ones who came and killed him?'
I
nodded. 'Right.'
Garrett
leaned back. 'How d'you feel about that?'
'I feel
bad… worse than bad… guilty for not saying anything, for not telling him -'
'So
hypothetically,' Garrett said, 'you could say that had you said something you
might have saved his life?'
I
nodded. 'Yes, I suppose so… possibly.'
'And
the fact that you said nothing was therefore a contributory factor to his
death.'
'If
you look at it in that light, yes, I was responsible for his death.'
'And
that was my confession,' I said, and reached for another of Father John's
cigarettes.
'And
you were aware that every conversation you had with Garrett was being
recorded?'
'No,
I was never told that anything was being recorded.'
'And
the tape was spliced.'
I nodded.
'Yes, the tape was spliced. When the recording of that interview was played in
court, the prosecuting attorney said -'
'We
need to know that this is your voice, Mister Ford.'
I
nodded.
'Yes
or no, Mister Ford?'
'Yes.'
'That
is unquestionably your voice?'
'Yes,
it's my voice.'
'Your
Honor… request for the bailiff to play the interview section once again.'
'Granted.'
I
turned to see the judge nod at the court bailiff.
The
bailiff rose, he spent a few seconds rewinding the tape, and then pressed
play.
'… he
was fucking my girlfriend… they were so indiscreet about it… I wished they'd
been less exhibitionist about it, you know what I mean? I was mad, I was upset
with Nathan and Linny, and I should have told him and I didn't. I feel bad…
worse than bad… guilty for not saying anything, for not telling him. In that
light, yes, I was responsible for his death.'
'And
that was considered an adequate confession?' Father John asked.
I nodded.
'A death penalty confession.'
'And
the prosecution said that the tape recording had been analyzed and no signs of
tampering had been found?'
'And
the defense… even the defense said the tape had been independently analyzed.
"Of unquestionable integrity" was the term used, the tape was of
unquestionable integrity.'
'So
your defense wasn't really a defense?'
I
shook my head. 'It was a joke.'
'Why
didn't you change lawyers?'
'With
what? I got what I was given. Either a court- appointed defense or a private
lawyer. You don't get a private lawyer without serious money.'
'But
the house was yours… why not use the house as collateral?' 'The house was still
tied up in all the legalities after my mother's death.'
'Convenient,'
Father John said.
'Very,'
I replied.
'And
Linny was not permitted to make a statement or testify because she was in the
State Psychiatric Hospital.'
'Yes,
classified as mentally unfit to give credence to either defense or
prosecution.'
'But
Garrett was permitted to enter a statement that Linny Goldbourne named you as
the killer?'
'Yes…
apparently when she was found Garrett was the first person to speak to her. She
told him that I had killed Nathan and attacked her.'
'How
was that statement permitted as evidence to the court?'
'Because
Garrett wasn't classified as mentally unfit to testify, and because there had
been another police officer present when Linny had said this.'
'That
would have been Jackson, Karl Jackson.'
'Right,'
I said.
'And
Karl Jackson confirmed that Linny Goldbourne had named you as the killer in the
presence of himself and Lieutenant Garrett?'
'Yes,
he testified to that.'