Love Her Madly (24 page)

I removed my hand. “I will accept your apologies, and you'll regain my trust, as soon as you find a few more connections and see that whoever hit me over the head is behind bars.”

I told him I loved the steak. I wondered if Brewster was his first name or his last. It was late when I got back to Gatesville.

I called Delby and told her to get what she could on Doc Redmon.

She said, “Tonight?”

“I'd appreciate it.”

“Okay, I'll do that. Call the director so he quits bothering me. Dying to congratulate you.”

“Okay.”

He was still at the office. He said, “Poppy, I heard from the lab today. I don't know how you did what you did, but the guy in the church movie is the guy in the room with Rona Leigh Glueck making the videos. The voices are one and the same.”

“Has Auerbach seen the movie?”

“Auerbach's in charge.”

“Thought so.”

“Your boundless commitment to this department will never fail to…”

When I got rid of him, the phone rang immediately. Delby again.

“Who's Fred Helton?”

“I don't … wait. Let me think.”

“Take your time. I got all night. Not a single one of my kids has an ear infection.”

“Fred Helton. He's Melody Scott's brother. He was in the witness room.”

“Oh. No wonder he sounded like such a miserable dude. You feel like talkin' to him? He asked.”

“Where is he?”

“He lives outside Houston, halfway to Austin. And a neighbor of his would like to talk to you too.”

“A neighbor?”

“One of the jurors who convicted Rona Leigh. Helton said Cardinal de la Cruz advised him to see you. That cardinal's all over like shit, ain't he?”

“Cardinals obviously have more responsibilities than meet the eye. Give me Helton's number.”

I would love to hear what that juror wanted to say. But before I could call Melody's brother, I had things to do. First, Max Scraggs. I got the same woman as last time. She recognized my voice, said, “Hold on a sec, Agent.” I heard the sounds of bodies rolling over.

He said, “I'm here.”

“Max, the FBI found the guy with the hammer and nails. Now don't flip out; they threatened him and let him go.”

First I let him finish flipping out.

“I told you not to flip out. They want to follow his tracks.”

“For Christ's sake, the man hit you over the head with a brick.”

“Someone else did that.”

“How would you know that?”

“I could tell. I had the pleasure of meeting him this afternoon in Waco.”

“Who the fuck is he?”

“A cop.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

“He did it as a favor for another cop, the son-in-law of a doctor named Blake Redmon.”

Silence.

“Do you know him, Max?” More silence. “You live in Texas, you've at least heard of him. What's the cop's name?”

“Can't say. If I do, your guys will be following him too, and your guys and my guys will end up shooting each other.”

“Listen, Max, could you come up to Gatesville in the morning? We'll have breakfast, we'll talk, and then I need to use you.”

“How?”

“Melody Scott, Rona Leigh's victim—her brother wants to talk to me. Him and one of her jurors. If they want to tell me something that has anything to do with the possibility that Rona Leigh may not have gotten the kind of trial she's guaranteed under the U.S. Constitution, I want the Texas law there with me.”

“Poppy, if for some reason that I sure as hell can't figure out, you've got Blake Redmon interested in you, I'm not going to let you out of my sight. I'll be with you for breakfast.”

“What's that mean?”

“We'll talk in the morning.”

“One more thing.”

“What?”

I told him who sprung Rona Leigh. Gave him the name and all I knew.

I doubt the man went back to sleep.

Delby called me. “Boss, my fax has been pourin' out some major shit. Here's the connection you're looking for. It's a humdinger. That forensic physician who testified for the prosecution against Rona Leigh? Dr. Glee? Dude name of Blake Redmon.”

I think I said fuck me.

“Well, here's the story on that scumbag. This guy Redmon's daughter got knocked up seventeen years ago by your Houston cop, Kego. She was a kid just about to finish high school at the time. They ran away to Mexico and got married. So this doctor who never testified at any other trial before or since told Rona Leigh's jury he could smell her on the ax handle. Then, right after the conviction, Kego gets his reward, a big promotion. Real
real
big. That's because the Houston police department prides itself on being more successful than any other department in the state as to number of convictions and is especially proud of the number of death penalties, more than any other county in Texas and the rest of the U.S. too, for that matter.

“So basically, you're one rich doctor, your daughter has just participated in a debutante ball to the tune of twenty-five grand and suddenly she announces she's married to some bottom-of-the-barrel patrolman who has also knocked her up. What do you do? You agree to testify in a murder trial where everyone's crying for blood. You hand over that blood with your false testimony, and consequently the defendant never has a chance in hell for justice, but the prosecutor gets another notch in his belt and therefore your son-in-law gets a free ride to a prestigious level of law enforcement thereby ensuring that Daughter maintains her place in Texas society.”

Delby took a breath and said, “Now that last bit's an oxymoron, right, boss?”

This is why I love, cherish, and honor Delby Jones.

She said, “So here's the rest. Soon as the present governor was elected, he appoints Kego, the son-in-law, to his present position on the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles. Turns out the governor and this here Dr. Glee went to prep school and college together, and according to the brothers at Delta Kappa Shmappa the doc was the sole reason the governor made it through college at all. The doc called the governor, who was a legislator at the time, and asks for the entrée necessary to volunteer for Rona Leigh's trial. Only way the doc's ass stays covered now is for Rona Leigh's sentence to be carried out.

“So I'm thinkin' about all you told me, and the way I see it is the governor granted her a reprieve after all when he told the warden at Gatesville to call an ambulance. If he hadn't, the warden would have stalled around and Rona Leigh would have choked to death on her own vomit. Man, I love irony, boss. Or, as we call it in my neighborhood, findin' out somethin's been shoved up your ass without your knowin' it.”

I said, “Delby, I am a great observer of ironic developments myself, but there are more pressing matters. Has this Redmon ever done anything illegal?”

“Honey, the guy has had more malpractice suits filed against him than a centipede has feet. And has never had to pay anybody a dime. Seems it's like this here:
You don't like I sent a laser beam so far into your eye you need a dog to cross the street? How would you like two broken legs so's you need a wheelchair to go along with the dog?
That's how he settles his malpractice cases. Some, anyway. I'm exaggerating just a little bit. But he's got a whole bunch of guys, led by his son-in-law, who back up threats he makes. The guy with the hammer and nails is entry-level. Whoever dropped a rock on your head is probably one rich fellow about now. Long gone unless he's a halfwit, sorry to say.

“Bottom line: Guy sold Rona Leigh down the river solely for the advancement of his testosterone-heavy son-in-law. Top line: Boss, long as you're in Texas, watch out for pickpockets and don't drink the water.”

“I won't. Delby, I have just one more thing to ask of you.”

“I got it right here.” She gave me Redmon's phone number.

The person who answered Redmon's phone identified himself as Staff.

I said, “Listen Staff. My name is Poppy Rice, I'm with the FBI, and I need to speak to the doctor.”

“Is this an emergency? It's quite late.”

“I know what time it is.”

He asked, “May I ask what this would be in reference to?”

“I have a pain in my ass.”

Staff put me on hold.

Dr. Redmon was all charm, all DEKE, the way the boys are when their moms come to college on parents' weekend and they have to hide the fact that they've been placed on academic probation.

“Agent Rice,” he said. “I understand you'd like me to recommend a proctologist.”

“Actually, I'm the one with a recommendation. I recommend that you deposit twenty-five thousand bucks into your lawyer's checking account right away. Nothing is going to stop my exposing you. I'm going to reopen some of your most egregious malpractice suits, and I'm going to get people with poor eyesight and broken noses to sue you until you've got nothing left to your name but a tongue depressor. I'm going after you. Be prepared to hear a fellow frat brother tell the press he only faintly remembers you when you go looking for help from him. And if you dare put anything in my way, if the numbskull cops on your payroll come within fifty feet of me, you will be arrested immediately. Tough choice, I know, but if I were you I'd choose poverty over the Texas judicial system, because we all know.…”

The phone was dead. At what point he'd hung up on me, I didn't know. I didn't care, either, because he would get to hear it all again through more proper channels or I will eat dirt.

11

It was late. I was wired, but I forced myself to wait till morning before I called the Air Force chaplain who'd been Vernon's other mentor.

No explanations required. He told me he expected he'd be hearing from the FBI sooner or later. “It's about my student. It's about Vernon Lacker, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” I always call military officers
sir.
They especially appreciate that from a civilian. Loosens them up.

He said, “I can't tell you how much I liked and admired that boy. All of us who are connected with the school are devastated by the trouble he's in. Have you found him yet?”

“No. I'm wondering if you might have any idea where he might be.”

“He is looking for his wife, I'd have to say. A crying shame. There was a boy not just interested in praising God but in doing his work. Agent, Vernon Lacker was a shy boy without a pulpit, but he carried out the work of the Lord in the most challenging place there is: prison.”

The man should have heard his shy boy exhorting the witnesses to Rona Leigh's execution not to weep as she was only asleep. In Hebrew.

He said, “Sadly, of course, a prison chaplain of Vernon's sensitivity can be influenced and manipulated by his charges, as we have seen.”

I said, “Perhaps manipulated by others as well. Did you know his second mentor when Vernon was your student?”

He coughed. “I did.” He coughed again. Double cough means the human body is resisting what wants to come out of its mouth. But the Air Force man was a soldier. He carried on. “Reverend Tiner served as an adjunct, like several of us, but he didn't actually teach on campus. The boys went to him. He came to all our meetings, though. It was important for him that he have … input. What you are wanting to know is whether this fellow, with Vernon's help, orchestrated Rona Leigh Glueck's escape.”

I would not have a coughing fit. Very steadily, I said, “Sir, what makes you assume that?”

“I have to tell you, Agent, my colleagues and I have spoken of little else, though only in hypothetical terms … at first, whether Vernon helped Rona Leigh escape, and then whether Tiner might have been involved. The Vernon we knew, though naïve, was so pure of heart we couldn't imagine he would do what he knew to be wrong. But Raymond Tiner had entered Vernon's life again when he married the killer. Last night I had dinner with a few of my colleagues. Old-timers like myself. That's when we admitted it.”

“Admitted what, exactly?”

“Admitted we could no longer deny that the voice on the tapes might well be Raymond Tiner. We decided we must stop deliberating and, instead, pray for the capture of the condemned woman.”

“Did any of you think of fingering Tiner, sir?”

I waited. Finally, he said, “Last night we did express to one another our collective desire to
finger,
as you put it, Raymond Tiner. But that would have been foolish because we have nothing to prove that he is the voice of the man on the tape. And we had to consider our thorough dislike of the man. He has been an evil influence on a boy we were once so fond of. We're only human and, deep down, we worry about what will become of Vernon, once … once this is all over.”

“All right, sir. I can understand that.” I couldn't. “But it will help me if I know as much as possible about Raymond Tiner.”

“I can certainly tell you what I know. As I said, he was an adjunct here. He served as mentor to third-year students only. Vernon was entrusted to Reverend Tiner and was sent to the camp the man ran for incorrigible boys. Reverend Tiner invented the tough love movement, a movement having nothing to do with love but rather with cruelty and deprivation. The goal was to break the child's will. Easy to do when there is no one to advocate for that child. He'd have the boys lie down, and he'd play the music of the wind in swaying trees, the ocean waves, birdsong, things of that nature. And while he played his tapes, when he had the boys almost asleep, hypnotized, he'd clang a pair of cymbals together and shout,
Satan!

“I told Tiner it was the kind of things the Communists in Hanoi did to our captured men. Men I served with.”

Had to keep him on the main track. “Do you know what has become of Tiner?”

“Once Tiner severed his ties with us, I never heard anything about him until last year. Vernon called me periodically as he worked his way through the Texas prison system, always bursting with excitement over each promotion. But that all came to a halt. I did not respond in the way he'd hoped when he told me of his decision to marry the killer. I advised him strongly against such an irrational act. I reminded him of his training. How important it was not to become emotionally involved with the people who needed him. Who placed their trust in him. I told him it was unethical to do otherwise.