After our tour of the grotto we picked up Dorita. She had stayed behind. Not having a strong desire to look at dead bodies.
We retired to the closest eatery. I had a double Glenmorangie, straight up.
There are still things we don’t know, said Dorita.
I can’t argue with that, I said.
Me neither, said Butch.
There’s stuff that Lisa didn’t know, I said.
Couldn’t know, said Dorita.
Stuff that only Ramon or Raul can tell us.
You want to talk to them, good luck, said Butch.
I knew what he meant. I knew what Butch’s little trip outside the loft had been for. They’d probably picked up the twins before we’d even finished talking to Lisa.
If you’re with us, I said, you’ll try to get me in.
You’re going to have to go through the ADA, he said.
Russell Graham? No sweat. I’m tight with him.
Sure, Butch laughed. I knew that.
Hey, I said. Let’s give it a shot. We’ve got some leverage, you know. I’ve got something to trade.
Yeah?
Information. If nothing else.
True, Butch said. It’s worth a shot. Come down with me. I’ll try to get him to talk to you.
We grabbed a cab.
It smelled of success.
Butch called the ADA from his cell phone. Gave him the goods. It took some doing, but he got the up-and-coming Russell Graham to agree to see me. He’d give me ten minutes to talk him into it.
At the station house Butch led me into the back. He told Dorita to wait outside. She didn’t like it. But there were only so many civilians we could throw at the ADA all at once.
He was waiting in a small room. It smelled of mold.
I didn’t have a dog in the fight, I told him. I didn’t have a client anymore. I just wanted to get to the bottom of the whole thing. Finish the job we started. See justice done. Which put me on their side now. And I could do it faster than they could. I knew these guys. I knew what buttons to push. And anyway, I had a lot of information. Some maybe they had already. But I was willing to wager they didn’t have it all.
The ADA wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about it. But he knew that I knew stuff he wasn’t going to get anywhere else. So he cut me a deal. They were still working on Raul. He wasn’t talking. They hadn’t gotten to Ramon yet. They’d give me twenty minutes with him. But the cameras would be on. I needed to know that. No funny shit. They were letting me in solely for their purposes. To see what I might get. After the twenty minutes were up, I had to be debriefed by the ADA. Give up every squib of information I had. Not just whatever I got from Ramon. Everything.
It felt like a deal with the devil.
I took it.
Ramon was sitting in a stark and empty room. Four metal chairs. A flimsy table. Him. Me.
I sat down right next to him.
Hey, Ramon, I said. I hear you’re in deep shit.
He gave me the patented Ramon blank look.
I leaned in.
Listen, I said. We got a good situation here. You know what it is?
The brick wall stayed brick.
We got a dead guy, Ramon, I confided. You hear me?
He looked at me with a flicker of interest.
I feigned shock and dismay. I leaned back. My mouth fell open.
You mean they didn’t tell you?
He gave me a wary look.
Shit, man. You really don’t know. Those pricks. Jules. Jules killed himself. Stuck a knife into his gut. Hara-kiri. You know, that Japanese shit? You know that shit?
He nodded warily.
Yeah, I said, shaking my head. He was some fucked-up sick kid.
Ramon showed a glimmer of assent.
So anyway, I said. That means two things. I know you figured this out already. Because you’re a sharp guy. But let me lay it out for you. Can I lay it out for you?
He nodded slowly, twice.
Two things, I said. One, I don’t have a client anymore.
Ramon allowed himself a half-smile.
So I’m in the market for a new client, I said, slapping him playfully on the arm. If you get my meaning. But more important, I said quietly, leaning in to whisper into his ear, like I said, we got a dead guy. We stick the dead guy with it all.
I leaned back. I gave him a triumphant grin.
Whadya think? Is that rich, or what?
He looked at me. I looked at him. I kept grinning. My face hurt.
Yeah, he said. That’s good.
I knew you’d see it that way, Ramon, I said, with another conspiratorial lean in his direction. You’re a smart guy. But then we gotta get our story straight. If we’re going to pin it on Jules, we gotta make sure everything fits.
Sure, he whispered, looking at the one-way glass. I know that.
Don’t worry, I said. We just keep our voices low, it’s okay. Listen, I whispered, that’s where I come in. I’m a lawyer. I know how their minds work. You give me the stones, I build the wall.
I got the blank stare again.
I gotta have the facts, I said. What really happened. So I know where the weak points are. Then I make up the story. A story that fits whatever evidence they might find. There’s a million stories in the big city. We got to pick the right one. Can’t have any holes in it.
Ramon said nothing. I could see the brick in his head struggling mightily to turn itself into a brain. To figure out what was going on.
Hey, I said. I know what you’re thinking. What’s in it for Rick Redman? That’s an easy one. You’re going to get the money, right? You’re inheriting the dough. And I need a client. I need a client can pay the bills.
He still said nothing.
Anyway, I said, you got two choices, right? You sit here. You say nothing. The cops come back. They grill the shit out of you. You don’t say nothing. I know you won’t. You’re a tough guy. But then what happens?
He didn’t respond.
I’ll tell you what happens. They’re pissed. You don’t say nothing, they draw one conclusion: guilty as charged. So they charge you. They shake down everybody and his dog. They turn over every rock. Because they don’t like you. They don’t like you at all. They get very, very serious when somebody doesn’t help them out. They’re vindictive bastards.
I thought I saw a glint of understanding in his eyes.
You know what happens then, don’t you Ramon?
Silence.
Don’t you?
Silence.
I’ll tell you, then. I go to Raul. You don’t take my offer? Raul does. And you’re high and dry, man. You think Raul’s going to protect you? When he knows he can pin it on a dead guy and you? You know Raul. He’s a slick motherfucker. He could talk his way into Fort Knox.
Silence. A slow shaking of the head. Hard to interpret.
Think about it, Ramon. When you were there, after Mr. FitzGibbon went over the balcony. You guys saw the e-mail. It pointed to Veronica. What’s the first question they’d ask? Where the hell’s this Veronica? Why didn’t you just get rid of it? Why didn’t you throw it away, delete it from the computer?
He gave me a stony look.
Because Raul told you not to. If it’d been sent somewhere, they’d get it eventually. And they have ways to figure out what’s been deleted. That if you deleted it, they’d know. You’d look bad. Raise suspicion. Right?
He said nothing.
Anyway, what the note said wasn’t so bad for you. Suicide. Better than murder. Maybe you’d get away with the Veronica thing, Larry Silver. Pin it all on Jules.
Silence.
That’s what he told you. Am I right? Or am I right? Is he a smart sonofabitch, or is he?
Slowly, painfully, Ramon got it.
Yeah, you’re right, he sighed.
He’d finally figured it out. He was fucked, either way. He had to trust me. It was his only chance.
I don’t know that much, he said.
What do you mean?
It was Raul. It was Raul and Jules. They cooked the whole thing up.
Tell me about it, I said.
He talked.