4
"More bad news, I'm afraid," Fineman said.
Luther Brady lifted his head from where he'd been resting it on his arms, which were folded on the table. He was numb.
They'd found Grant's body. How? The news story said the Pennsylvania authorities had acted on a tip. From whom?
It had to be an insider, but that didn't make sense. Everyone high enough up to have known will be under investigation now.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Luther looked at Fineman, dapper as ever. "How could things get worse:
"Mr. Petrovich is not available, it seems. My investigator learned he drove off in his van and never came back. The van was found abandoned in Lower Manhattan. The police report mentions bloodstains on the front seat. Petrovich appears to have vanished."
Luther lowered his head again. What else could go wrong?
Petrovich had been a long shot anyway. A guy with his record probably didn't want to get within a mile of a police station, let alone walk in to swear to a statement.
"I've had feelers about a plea bargain," Fineman said.
"I will not—"
"Don't reject it out of hand, Mr. Brady. Give it careful consideration. You know what's going on outside. Your church is getting heat from all sides. It looks for all the world like someone in your organization killed that reporter to shut her up. That's not going to help you one bit."
He wanted to grab Fineman's silk tie and tell him that yes, he was part of the Grant bitch's death, a big part, and part of a host of others too, but he had nothing to do with this one. On this count he was innocent.
But he said nothing.
Fineman wasn't through, however. "Plus you've got to realize that if the
DA should go public and announce that he's seeking the death penalty, your chance for a deal will be gone. He'll be locked into that position and won't be able to let you plead down without suffering serious political fallout."
Luther didn't see that he had a choice. Making a deal meant losing his freedom but keeping his life. No deal gave him a shot at freedom, but the downside was death. Luther had decided he'd rather be dead than spend the rest of his life behind bars.
"No deals." He raised his head and looked Fineman square in the eyes. "An innocent man doesn't make deals."
At least the photos were still under wraps. He prayed to whatever power had guided him thus far that they'd stay that way.