The Last Innocent Man (9 page)

Stafford smiled. It was a broad, brave smile. He grasped David’s hand in a firm grip.

“I want to thank you for taking this case. I feel much more confident now with you on it. You’ve got quite a reputation, if you don’t know that already. And one more thing. I know you said it didn’t matter, and I believe you, but I want you to know that I am innocent. I really am.”

T
HE PHONE RANG
just as Monica was leaving her office. She hesitated for a moment, then answered it.

“Monica, this is Ron Crosby.”

“Oh, hi, Ron. I was just on my way up to arraign Stafford, and I’m going to be late. Can I call you back?”

“No. Hold on. This is about Stafford. Does he get out on bail today?”

“I talked it over with the boss, and we’re not opposing bail if David asks for it.”

“I see. Look, I may be onto something and…I don’t think he should be out.”

“Why not?”

“Do you remember when we were talking? We figured Stafford was getting a little on the side without risking the dangers and entanglements of an affair. So he picks up a prostitute and panics when he finds out she’s a policewoman.”

“That’s what I think,” Monica said. “His wife is the one with the money. If there was a divorce, it would hurt him more than her.”

“Right. That’s what everyone was thinking. We saw Darlene as a policewoman. But she was posing as a prosti
tute. Maybe she was killed because Stafford thought she was a prostitute.”

“I don’t get you.”

“I did some checking on Stafford. He’s never been convicted of a crime or even arrested for one, but I did come up with something. This isn’t the first time Larry Stafford’s had problems with a whore.”

T
HE GUARD OPENED
the steel door of the holding tank and told Larry it was time to go to court. He was polite and more deferential than he had been with the other prisoners. It made Larry feel uncomfortable. Another guard opened the door that connected the holding area to the courtroom. Larry hesitated at the threshold. He wanted to crawl inside himself and disappear. David had arranged for him to have the dignity of his own clothes, so that he did not have to parade in the uniform of a prisoner before all these people he knew, but the clothes did not prevent him from feeling shame and that nauseated feeling in the pit of his stomach that had grown worse since his arrest.

There was an embarrassed quiet when Stafford was led into the courtroom. Other lawyers looked away. The judge, a man he had appeared before only last week, occupied himself with a loose stack of papers. The bailiff, a young night student with whom he had sometimes chatted during court recess, would not look at him.

David hurried to Stafford’s side and began telling him what would happen. Larry wanted to see Jennifer, but he could not bring himself to look at the packed courtroom. He felt he could hold himself together if he stared forward. He wanted to numb all feeling, freeze his heart, and melt away.

They were through the bar of the court now and standing in front of Judge Sturgis. An attractive woman was reading the charge against him, but he could not associate the words she was saying with himself. It was some other Larry Stafford she was talking about. And all the time, he concentrated on a spot just above the judge’s head and tried to stand erect.

“Your Honor, I am David Nash, and I will be representing Mr. Stafford in this matter.”

“Very good, Mr. Nash.”

“Your Honor, I would like to raise the matter of bail. Mr. Stafford was arrested last night. As the Court knows, he is a member of the bar, he is married, and he is practicing with a well-respected firm…”

“Yes, Mr. Nash,” the judge interrupted. He turned toward Monica Powers.

“Is there any opposition to the setting of bail at this time, Ms. Powers?”

“Yes, Your Honor. The State would be opposed to the setting of bail at this time.”

David started to say something, then thought better of it. Instead, he addressed the Court. “We would like to have a bail hearing scheduled as quickly as possible then, Your Honor.”

Monica turned toward him.

“I should tell counsel that we are taking this case directly to the grand jury this afternoon, and we expect to arraign Mr. Stafford in circuit court in one to two days.”

“We’ll set a hearing date anyway, Ms. Powers,” Judge Sturgis said. “You can reset the hearing in circuit court if an indictment is handed down, Mr. Nash.”

“Do I have to stay in jail?” Stafford whispered.

“Yes,” David said. He looked at Monica, but she seemed uncomfortable and looked away from him, he thought, intentionally.

“But I thought—”

“I know. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll find out as soon as this is over.”

The clerk set a hearing date and David marked it on his folder. The next case was called and Monica started to leave. David touched her elbow.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

She looked undecided, then nodded.

“I’ll wait for you in the hall,” she said, then hurried out.

“Larry, I’ll be in touch soon. I want to find out why there was opposition to your bail.”

“You’ve got to get me out of here,” Stafford said. The guard was gesturing Stafford back toward the holding area, and a new prisoner was being led into the courtroom. “You don’t know what it’s like in that place.”

“We’ll have a hearing on the bail in a few days and get this cleared up. I—”

“I don’t know if I can take it in that stinking hole for two more days. I want out now, dammit. That’s why I hired you.”

David stopped and looked directly at Stafford. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“Larry, you have to start adjusting to the fact that, guilty or innocent, you are accused of a crime. You may not be able to get out of jail. The DA may convince the judge that bail is inappropriate. You have to get hold of yourself or you are going to be a mess by the time we get to trial.”

Stafford was breathing heavily, and David could see
the rapid beating of a pulse near his temple. Suddenly, he sagged and his breathing quieted.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should know enough about the courts to know that nothing is going to happen right away. There’s no reason it should be any different because I’m the one in trouble.”

“Good. I’m glad you understand that. I’ll see you soon, Larry.”

M
ONICA WAS STANDING
in the hall near the elevators.

“What was that all about?” David asked.

“Our office is opposed to your client’s release on bail.”

“You made that quite obvious in there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder. “I want to know why. Stafford’s no junkie who’s going to split the minute the jail door opens. He’s married, with a job—”

“I know all that. It makes no difference.”

“Why? What have you got on him?”

“You’ll get all your discovery in the normal course when he’s arraigned in circuit court,” Monica said abruptly. Something was upsetting her.

“I know all about discovery procedures, Monica. I’m asking you now, as a colleague who’s—”

“Look, David, I’m putting you on notice. This one is different. No breaks and nothing that isn’t procedure according to the books.”

“Whoa. Slow down. I’ve always been square with you, haven’t I?”

“Yes. And this has nothing to do with you or me. This one is different, and I mean it. There is more to this case than you know.”

“Like what?”

The elevator door opened and Monica stepped inside.

“I can’t discuss it and I won’t. I’m sorry.”

David watched the door close and turned back toward the courtroom. Monica had never acted this way before, and it troubled him. When they had a case together, they discussed it. They tried to be as honest with each other as the rules of the game allowed. David’s initial impression of Larry Stafford had been favorable, but Monica had said that there was more to the case than he knew. Did that mean that she had conclusive evidence of Stafford’s guilt? Had Stafford lied when he’d said he was innocent?

The courtroom door opened and someone called his name. He looked up and saw Charlie Holt approaching. He had not noticed him in the packed courtroom.

“What was this about no bail?” Charlie asked.

David did not answer. He was staring at the beautiful woman who was following Charlie.

“Oh, sorry,” Charlie said. “Dave, this is Jennifer Stafford.”

Only it wasn’t. It was Valerie Dodge.

“I’
M SORRY
, D
AVID
. I didn’t want to lie to you, but…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. David sat across from her. They had both managed to carry on a normal conversation on the way to his office. Charlie was too distracted to notice the tension between them. David asked Charlie to stay in the waiting room, and they both walked to his office in silence. When David closed the door, Jennifer had taken a chair without looking at him.

“I don’t know if I should stay on this case,” he said.

She looked up, startled.

“Oh, you must. Please, David. Larry needs you.”

“I’m not sure that I’m the best person to represent your husband.”

“Why? Because we slept together? Please, David. I don’t know why I…We’d quarreled and…” She shook her head. “I never did anything like that before. You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you. That doesn’t matter. A lawyer is supposed to be objective, uninvolved. How am I going to do that?”

She looked down at her hands again, and David leaned back in his chair, trying to maintain control. The shock of meeting her in the courthouse was wearing off, and a deep depression was setting in.

“When Charlie suggested your name…at first I was going to say no, but I couldn’t. Larry has to have the best lawyer. I can’t let him…”

She stopped. David turned his chair slightly so she would not be in his line of vision.

“Do you love him?”

She looked up but didn’t say anything.

“I asked you if you love your husband.”

He didn’t really want to know. He had asked the question to hurt her. He felt confused and betrayed.

“Please don’t,” she said. Her voice was almost a whisper, and he was afraid that she would cry.

“Do you love your husband?” David repeated forcefully.

“Does it matter? Do you ask that of every wife who comes to you for help? Isn’t it enough that I’m asking you for help?”

He still could not face her. She was right and he saw
that. He was being a fool. A child. And she was asking for help. But to give her that help, he would have to build a barrier between them that might never come down. He swiveled the chair back toward her. She was sitting erect and watching him.

“I could give you the names of several other attorneys. All very competent.”

“No, I want you. I believe in you. I know you can clear Larry.”

“Who is Valerie Dodge?” he asked. She blushed and smiled.

“Dodge is my maiden name. The other one…Valerie…There’s a TV show I watch. I didn’t know what to say and that was the first name I thought of.”

David laughed. She hesitated a second to make sure that his laughter was real; then she laughed. A nervous laugh. Grateful that the tension had been broken.

“I tried very hard to find you. Called Senator Bauer’s campaign committee, scoured the phone books.”

“I thought about you, too. There were times I wanted to…But I couldn’t. Larry and I…we’ve had problems. He works very hard and…What happened that night. It just happened. But you can’t let that interfere with Larry’s case. Whatever I feel for him, if it’s love or…he is my husband and…”

She stopped and they looked at each other. Now it was his turn to avert his eyes. He felt very tired.

“I want to think, Jennifer. I’m mixed up now and I want some time to clear my head.”

“All right.”

“I’ll call you in the morning and let you know what I decide.”

He stood up and she followed. He held open the door and she started to leave. They were close. Within inches of each other. His hand poised on the doorknob, the scent of her all around him. He wanted to hold her. She sensed it and pretended not to notice. The moment passed and he opened the door. When she was gone, he sat at his desk without moving for a long time.

D
avid had not slept well. There had been clear skies and a bright slice of moon, and he had watched the stars from the darkness of his living room when he found he could not sleep. What was there to it? A woman he had slept with one time. Why should she matter, when none of the others he had taken to bed had mattered? He knew he would not find the answer with logic, the lawyer’s tool.

What should he do? The answer was obvious. Get out. Obvious on paper, that is. But not in his heart, where the decision was being made. And it was not all that obvious, anyway, because one factor muddied everything over. What if Larry Stafford was innocent? Charlie Holt had told him that Jennifer said she had been with her husband the night Darlene Hersch was murdered, and Jennifer had told
him when they were walking to his office from the court-house that Larry was innocent. Stafford had said it too, and David believed him. On the other hand, was the man who had cuckolded the defendant the best man to represent him?

David had to give that a lot of thought. Now that he had found Jennifer, he did not want to let her go. He wanted to know if there was anything more possible between them. He had sensed that possibility when they had parted at his office.

Did he want the case because of Jennifer? Did he care about Larry Stafford at all? If it was just Jennifer, he knew he would have to give it up. But it wasn’t just Jennifer, David told himself. If Larry Stafford was innocent, David could not stand by and see him convicted. There was more to this case than just a chance to see Jennifer again. Hadn’t he felt the excitement when Charlie Holt had told him that Stafford might be innocent? David thought about Ashmore and Gault and Anthony Seals. When their cases had concluded, he had felt a sense of guilt, not pride. This was a case he could be proud of. He was the best criminal lawyer in the state and one of the best in the country. It was about time he started using his abilities the way they were meant to be used.

T
HERE WAS A
note from Monica in his message box the next morning. An indictment had been returned, and a date for the arraignment had been set in circuit court. David made a note to himself to set a time for a bail hearing. The first thing he did when he reached his office was call Jennifer Stafford. She answered after the first ring.

“I’ll represent Larry if you want me to.”

“Yes,” she answered after a brief pause. “Thank you. I was afraid you wouldn’t…. Larry is very high on you. We talked about it yesterday evening.”

“You didn’t tell him I was thinking about not taking the case?”

“Oh, no. He doesn’t know anything about us.”

There was silence on the line.

“You haven’t…?” she started.

“Of course not.”

There was another pause. Not an auspicious beginning. They could not relax with each other.

“Larry said that you have his appointment book at home,” he said.

“I think so. I’ll look.”

“I’ll need it as soon as possible. And the fee,” he added, feeling uneasy about asking her for money.

“Of course; Charlie told me. I’ll go to the bank.”

Again, dead air. Neither of them knew how to fill the space.

“I’ll let you know when the bail hearing is set,” David said, unwilling to let the conversation end.

“Yes.”

“And don’t forget the book. It’s important.”

He was repeating himself.

“If…if I find the book, should I bring it down this morning?”

Did that mean she wanted to see him? He felt very unsure of himself.

“We can set an appointment.”

“I could leave it with your secretary. If you’re busy.” She hesitated. “I don’t want to bother you. I know you have other cases.”

“No. That’s all right. If you find it, come down. I’m pretty open this afternoon, and I have to talk to you anyway for background.”

“Okay. If I find it.”

They rang off. He leaned back, breathed deeply, and composed himself. This was no good. There was too much adrenaline involved. He wasn’t thinking straight. Like some high-school kid with a crush. Stupid. When he felt he had himself in hand, he dialed Terry Conklin, his investigator.

“How you doing, Terry?”

“Up to my ass. And you?”

“Same thing. That’s why I called you. I have a real interesting one. It’ll probably take a lot of your time.”

“Gee, I don’t know, Dave. I hate to turn you down, but I just picked up Industrial Indemnity as a client, and I’ve had to hire another guy just to handle their caseload.”

David was disappointed. Terry had been an intelligence officer in the Air Force and a policeman after that. When he got tired of working for someone else, he quit the force and started his own agency. David had been one of his first clients, and they were good friends. As Terry’s reputation grew, he acquired several insurance companies as clients. The money end of his business was in investigating personal-injury claims, and he had little time now for criminal investigation, his first love. But he and David had an understanding if the case was big enough, and he had never let David down yet.

“It’s the policewoman who was murdered at the Raleigh Motel,” David said. He was laying out the bait.

“Oh. Yeah? Some of my police friends were talking about that. They got someone, huh?”

“You don’t read the papers?”

“I was in New Orleans last week.”

“My, my, aren’t we getting to be the cross-country traveler. Business or pleasure?”

“A little of both. You representing the accused?”

David smiled. He was interested.

“Yeah. They arrested a lawyer from the Price, Winward firm.”

“No shit!”

David relaxed. He had him.

“Can you recommend someone to work on the case? I’d like someone good.”

“Hold on, will you? Just one minute.”

Terry put him on hold and David laughed out loud. When Terry got back on the line, they made an appointment to meet after work and drive to the Raleigh Motel.

J
ENNIFER SHOWED UP
at three. She was dressed in a conservative gray skirt and a white blouse that covered her to the neck. Her hair was swept back in a bun. With glasses she would look like a librarian in one of those forties movies, whose hidden beauty was revealed when she let her hair down.

“I brought the book,” she said, holding out a pocketsized notebook with a black leather cover. David reached across the desk and took it, careful not to let their hands touch. He flipped through the pages until he came to June 16. Stafford had had an appointment at nine forty-five with someone named Lockett and another appointment at four-thirty with Barry Dietrich. David recognized Dietrich’s name. He was a partner at Price, Winward who specialized in securities work. That would tie in with what
Larry had told him at the jail. There were no other entries for the sixteenth, and David made a note to contact Dietrich.

“Is that any help?” Jennifer asked.

“It could be. Larry met with one the partners on the day of the murder. I’ll find out how late they worked.”

Jennifer nodded. She looked ill at ease, sitting erect with her hands folded in her lap, making an extra effort to look businesslike. David appreciated her discomfort. He felt rigid, and the conversation had an artificial quality to it.

“I want to talk to you about your relationship to Larry. Some of the questions I’m going to ask will be very personal, but I wouldn’t ask them if the answers weren’t important to Larry’s defense.”

She nodded again, and he noticed that her hands clasped tighter, turning the knuckles of her left hand momentarily white.

“How long have you known Larry?”

“Just over a year.”

“How did you meet?”

“I was teaching school with Miriam Holt, Charlie’s wife. She introduced us. Larry and Charlie play a lot of handball together.”

“How long after that were you married?”

“A few months. Four.”

It came out as an apology, and David looked down at his notes, sensing her embarrassment. Whether the jury found Larry innocent or guilty, this would be an ordeal for her. And it would never really stop. If Larry was convicted, she would be the wife of the young lawyer who had killed a policewoman he thought was a prostitute. Why had he
needed a prostitute? They would look at her and wonder. What was wrong with her that she had driven him to that?

And if he was acquitted? Well, you never were, really. The jury might say you were not guilty, but the doubts always remained.

“Where do you teach?”

“Palisades Elementary School.”

“How long have you been teaching?”

She smiled and relaxed a little.

“It seems like forever.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yes. I’ve always liked kids. I don’t know. It can be hard at times, but I really feel it’s worthwhile. Larry wanted me to stop teaching after we were married, but I told him I wanted to keep on.”

“Why did he want you to stop?”

Jennifer blushed and looked down at her hands. “You have to understand Larry. He’s very tied up in this manhood trip. It’s just the way he is.”

“Has Larry ever cheated on you?”

There was a sharp intake of breath, and Jennifer looked directly at David.

“No,” she said firmly. “And I think I would have known.”

“Has he ever struck you?”

“No,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Has he or hasn’t he?”

“Well, we’ve quarreled, but he’s never…No.”

“Do you consider Larry to be normal sexually?”

“What do you mean, ‘normal’?” she asked hesitantly.

David felt uneasy and unsure of himself. He had asked this type of question often enough in the past, but it had
always been strictly for professional reasons. He was asking now as a professional, but there was something more. He wanted to know what the relationship between Larry Stafford and his wife was really like. He wanted to know how he stacked up sexually to the man he was representing. He wanted to know if Jennifer responded to her husband with the passion she had exhibited during their lovemaking.

“Are his sexual preferences unusual? Does he have any peculiarities?”

“I don’t see why, what that would…Can’t we talk about something else? This is very hard for me.”

“I know it’s hard for you, but this case is heavily concerned with sex, and I want you prepared for the questions the district attorney is going to ask you in open court.”

“I’ll have to…? I couldn’t…”

Jennifer took a deep breath, and David let her compose herself.

“Our sexual relationship is…just normal.”

Her voice caught, and David again watched her hands, tense and entwined, clasp each other rigidly.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said so softly that he had to strain to hear her.

“David, that evening you and I…It is true that Larry and I were having problems, but they had to do with his work, not our sexual relationship. He was working very hard. He didn’t make partner last year and it deflated him. At first he just gave up. It was right after we got married, and he was talking about leaving the firm and trying something else: government work or going out on his own. Then he changed his mind and decided that he would be accepted if he just worked harder. Even harder than before. He was leaving early and coming home late. He was drink
ing, too. I hardly saw him at all, even on the weekends. And when I did see him, it seemed we were always quarreling.

“The evening I met you…I just blew up at him. Called him at the office. He came home all upset. I’d interfered with his work. Couldn’t I understand? I told him I did understand. That I thought he considered his work more important than me. I walked out. Then I met you and…and it just happened. I wanted to hurt him, I guess. But it isn’t…wasn’t sex. We were…all right.”

She stopped, out of words, her energy spent. David didn’t know what to say. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but he knew he couldn’t.

“Besides,” she said, “I don’t see what any of this has to do with Larry’s case. I told Charlie, Larry couldn’t have killed that girl. He was home with me on that evening.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes. I would know. I mean, if he was out with another woman…He was with me.”

“You would swear to that in court?”

“Yes. I don’t want Larry to go to prison. He couldn’t take it, David. He couldn’t take the pressure.”

“He seems to be holding up pretty well.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He puts up a good front, but he’s a little boy underneath. He’s very good at seeming to be in one piece, but I know him well enough to see the cracks beneath the surface.”

David put down his notepad. The short interview had taken its emotional toll on both of them.

“I guess that’s enough for now. I’m going to visit the motel after work and try to talk to the desk clerk. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything.”

She stood, and he walked her to the door.

“I want to thank you for taking the case. I know it was a hard decision for you. And I know that Larry will be safe with you.”

He didn’t know what to say. She solved the problem by leaving quickly. He watched her walk away, hoping that she would turn and give him some sign, but she didn’t and he returned to his desk, more confused than ever about their relationship.

There was a glass and a bottle of good bourbon in David’s bottom drawer. He took his bourbon neat. It was some time since he had felt the need for a midday drink, but he had the feeling that there would be many more before he was through with the Stafford case.

T
ERRY
C
ONKLIN WAS
medium height, a bit chubby, and had a wide and continuous smile. He looked like the least dangerous person in any gathering, and people trusted and talked to him. That’s what made him so valuable as an investigator.

Terry turned his Dodge station wagon into the parking lot at the Raleigh Motel. The wagon was strewn with debris left by Conklin’s five children. It was a far cry from the flashy sports cars James Bond drove, and Terry liked to joke that it was part of his cover.

Terry had spent some time that afternoon in the morgue at the
Oregonian
reading everything he could find about the Hersch case. He had photocopied the clippings for David, who was finishing the last one as they pulled up in front of the motel office.