I hold up the bag. “I brought you a dozen, fish-free jelly donuts.”
He looks at the bag, then opens the door and motions me in. “Make my home your home.”
We enter and he proceeds to eat three donuts and drink two cups of coffee in about a minute and a half. The time is not completely unenlightening, however. He explains to me that the way to prevent jelly from dripping out of a donut is to bite into the hole on the side through which the jelly had been inserted. Brilliant, but not what I came here to learn.
Vince can tell that I'm anxious to get down to business, so he pauses midway through the fourth donut to ask me what I need.
“I want to go through copies of your newspaper for the week of June fourteenth, nineteen sixty-five. I assume you have it on microfilm.”
“Microfilm?” He laughs. “Nowadays that would be like having it on parchment. It's all computerized.”
I nod. “All the better.”
“What are you looking for?”
“The night Julie McGregor was killed, my father, Markham, Brownfield, and Mike Anthony were at some kind of future leaders conference in Manhattan. I want to know who else was there.”
He looks doubtful. “So what are you doing here? In case you forgot, this is a Jersey paper. We wouldn't have covered it.”
“I'm betting you did.”
Within five minutes, Vince and I are going through the old papers. He finds the article almost immediately, and instantly understands why I am sitting in his office.
“Jesus Christ,” he says.
I jump out of my chair and go over to his computer screen. The article is there, and the headline jumps out:
PHILIP GANT NAMED A FUTURE LEADER OF AMERICA
I can't say this is exactly what I expected, but it does give me an even healthier respect for my own hunches. The potential implications of this are stunning, and my mouth opens in amazement. It is the only mouth in the room that isn't filled with jelly donut.
Vince looks to me for confirmation. “Gant was a part of this?”
I shrug. “I can't be sure.”
“But you think he might be?” Vince is a reporter, and he's sensing a beauty of a story.
I nod. “I think he might be.”
Vince takes a final swallow; he wants to be able to clearly enunciate this point. “If he is, I get the story first. We clear on that?”
“Crystal,” I say.
I meet up with Laurie back at the office. She's been tracking this on her own, and I'm not surprised to hear that she's gotten even further than I have. Not only has she confirmed that Philip was there that night, but she has the entire list of that year's future leaders.
A quick check shows that it includes young men and women from all over the country, and that in fact Philip was the only one besides my father living in New Jersey. I know for a fact that my father's house did not have a swimming pool, so it may well be that Philip's house is the one at which Julie McGregor was killed. The question is how to prove it.
Laurie logically points out that a crime this old is not going to be solved by physical evidence, and requires a witness. Victor has steadfastly refused to implicate anyone else, and for that reason Brownfield is not in custody. But with Victor facing murder one for Denise's murder, he seems the one most likely to crack.
We make two decisions, not necessarily in order of importance. One, we're going to include Pete Stanton in our deliberations, and two, I'm going to spend tonight at Laurie's. Therefore, we pick Tara up, take her for a brief walk, and then bring her to the precinct with us. Maybe I can introduce her to a male from the K-9 squad.
Pete's not there when we arrive, but he shows up a few minutes later. He is of course surprised to see Laurie, myself, and especially Tara sitting there.
“What the hell is this? A family picnic?” He points to Tara. “Is he house-trained?”
“She,” I say. “Her name is Tara, and you would shit on the floor before she would.”
“Okay,” he shrugs, “what do you guys want?”
I proceed to tell him, and he listens to the story without interrupting. When I'm finished, he thinks for a few more moments before responding. “You know Gant well. You think he could be involved?”
“I think he's a pretentious, controlling asshole, but I've never thought of him as a murderer.”
“That wasn't my question.”
I nod. “I think he was there that night. I think he'd do anything to protect his position. Yes, I think he was involved.”
Pete cuts right to the meat. “You're going to need Markham to give him up.”
“Do you think he would?” Laurie asks.
Pete shrugs. “Hasn't so far.”
“Can you get me in there?” I ask.
Pete laughs. “He'd be real happy to see you. You guys are good buddies.”
“Just get me in.”
Pete nods. “Okay. But only with Wallace on board. You want me to talk to him?”
I tell Pete that I'll talk to Wallace, and I call him. He's more skeptical than Pete, perhaps because he's not feeling the force of my face-to-face charm. Wallace's boss has to get elected every two years, which makes him sensitive to life's political realities. He sounds sorry he even answered the phone.
“Andy, I'm not even talking about whether or not Gant is guilty, or whether we could make it stick even if Markham gave him up. I'm saying that making the decision to go after Gant is a huge one. The kind we'd both better be right on.”
“I agree, but we're not making that decision now. Right now we're just talking to Markham.”
He finally agrees, which I knew he would. Wallace is not the type to sweep things under the rug, no matter how politically powerful those things might be.
Pete makes a phone call to get us in to see Markham at his house. I drop Laurie and Tara off, then pick up Wallace. We drive out in my car.
We arrive at Markham's and the patrolman at the gate lets us through. The justice system has determined that electronic ankle bracelets are not enough to keep Victor and son confined, and that armed guards are necessary to prevent their possible flight. I concur.
The house is on a par with Philip's, which is to say it is magnificent. I reflect to myself that this scene of Victor's incarceration, albeit temporary, is rather different from Willie's residence for the past seven years.
A patrolman accompanies us inside, and we are led into the den, where Victor awaits us with his lawyer, Sandy Michelson. Victor has changed lawyers since the deposition, a wise move, since Sandy is a first-rate criminal defense attorney. I had asked that Edward not be a part of the meeting, and apparently Victor agreed, since Edward is nowhere to be seen.