Дэвид Балдаччи - The Escape

Landry greeted them at the door of the conference room. He was about five-eight, thin, with a ring of grayish hair encircling the crown of his head. He wore a dark double-breasted suit and a paisley tie fronting a light blue patterned shirt. Puller also noted the gold monogrammed links on the French cuffs.

A man careful about his appearance.

Landry had retained his military bearing in the ramrod-straight posture, firm handshake, and take-charge demeanor.

“Have a seat. I’m sure you want to get down to it. Coffee, water?”

“No, thanks,” said Puller, and Knox shook her head.

They all sat as Landry unbuttoned his suit coat and waited.

“I suppose you know why we’re here,” began Puller.

“Robert Puller. Can’t believe he got out of DB. I thought he was innocent, you know. Can’t say that about most of my clients. I guess I was wrong about him.”

“Maybe you weren’t,” said Puller. “We’ve uncovered enough to make us concerned that an innocent man was indeed sent to prison.”

“Then why escape?”

“We really can’t get into that, but we can tell you that there are extenuating circumstances.”

“Okay, I know I’m not in the military anymore and my need-to-know is pretty nonexistent, but you had some questions nonetheless?”

“We’ve met with Doug Fletcher already,” said Knox.

Landry nodded. “Good guy, good lawyer. He’s teaching at JAG now in Charlottesville.”

“Right. And you spoke with Shireen Kirk?” said Puller.

Landry smiled. “I hated going up against her. She kicked my ass more times than I care to admit. I hope she never moves to Charlotte and goes into private practice.”

“We appreciated your being so frank with her.”

Landry nodded in understanding. “Look, it was a strange case all around. None of it made sense. I know the evidence showed online gambling as the motive, and he had the means and opportunity, but I never bought that. That all can be fabricated quite easily. If Robert hadn’t been so egotistical about someone hacking his computer the verdict might have been different. Maybe not, but at least we would have had a fighting chance.”

“We understand there was a letter from Robert’s father,” said Knox, drawing a quick glance from Puller.

Landry eyed Puller. “From your father too. I know who you are.”

“Yes.”

“Your brother said you were the best investigator the DoD had. Really proud of you.”

“It was mutual,” said Puller.

Landry nodded. “The letter carried great weight. And I believe it’s the only reason the charge got changed from spying to espionage. Life versus death.”

“Did my brother see the letter?” asked Puller.

Landry hesitated. “No.”

“Why not?” Puller demanded.

“Because his – your father didn’t want him to. Those were the conditions under which the letter could be viewed by the judge to lower the charges.”

“So my father didn’t want my brother to know of his involvement?”

“I suppose not. I thought it was unusual, of course. But I was powerless to do anything about it. I was a soldier then, Agent Puller. I did what I was told. So did Doug Fletcher.”

Puller sat back, digesting this and shaking his head.

“And Robert Puller talked about threats to his family?” prompted Knox.

Landry eyed Puller. “Did you know about that?”

“I was deployed overseas at the time. Combat zone. Didn’t make it back stateside until after my brother had been convicted and sent to DB.”

“He talked about you a lot with me. Not in connection with the case. Just talked. He was very worried that you would think badly of him. Not because he’d done anything wrong. He believed himself innocent all the way through. But just because, well, it had brought dishonor onto the family.”

“I visited him at DB. Quite often.”

“I’m sure those visits meant a lot to him.”

Knox interjected, “But did he provide you with any more details about the threats?”

“He told me that a letter had been slipped under his pillow in his cell.”

“So someone at the prison must have put it there,” said Knox.

“One would think so. He showed it to me. It was all block print, so anyone could have done it. That’s why the letter would have been dubious to use as evidence. The prosecution could have argued he did it himself. But I never got a chance to try because Robert refused to allow me to do so. That’s what convinced me that the letter was legitimate. Someone was using the threat of violence against his family to influence how he was defending himself at the trial. He wouldn’t testify. He wouldn’t really let me do my job from that moment forward. The conviction was a foregone conclusion. The panel only took an hour of deliberation before returning the guilty verdict.”

“I see,” said Puller.

“It’s curious, though. I mean, with what happened yesterday in D.C.,” said Landry.

Both Knox and Puller looked at him strangely.

“What happened in D.C.?” asked Knox.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you would have heard. An old colleague of mine from D.C. called me last night. He’d seen it on the news. There was a brief article about it in USA Today this morning, but I don’t think it’s gotten much media traction yet. Since it was connected to your brother’s case, I just thought the timing was odd.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Puller.

“Niles Robinson, you know who he is?”

“He worked with my brother and testified against him at the trial. We spoke with him recently.”

“Well, that was a good thing, then.”

“Why?” asked Knox.

“Only that it would be impossible to speak with him now. He was shot dead at Union Station last night.”

Puller and Knox exchanged a quick glance. Puller said, “Niles Robinson? You’re sure it was the same man connected to my brother’s case?”

“Absolutely. They had a photo of him in the article. It was clearly him. I recognized him immediately from when he was on the witness stand. I spent a long time cross-examining him on his story, but I really couldn’t make any headway. For what it’s worth, he seemed genuinely sorry to be testifying against Robert.”

“I’m sure he was,” said Puller tightly.

Knox said, “Did they get the shooter?”

“Not according to what I read. My friend said the news story in D.C. placed Robinson at a phone bank at the train station. Odd, since, I mean, who uses a pay phone these days? I’m surprised they still have them.”

“I wonder if he was there to take a train somewhere?” asked Puller.

Knox shot him a curious glance.

“Don’t know,” said Landry. “I guess if they find a ticket on him that will answer that question.”

“Anything else that you can add?” asked Knox.

“Only to reiterate that I always believed Robert was innocent. But the evidence just didn’t cut our way. There were the photos provided by Robinson, his corroborating testimony, the computer files showing the online gambling and the debts, the financial paper trail. And then there was the DVD and the other coworker’s testimony. What was her name again?”

“Susan Reynolds,” supplied Puller.

“Right. She was a rock on the witness stand. But unlike Robinson, she, um–”

“Didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that she was helping to send my brother to prison for the rest of his life?”

Landry pointed at him. “Exactly. In fact, she seemed rather happy about it.” Landry shook his head. “Not a pleasant woman. Tough, ruthless even. Definitely not someone I would choose to hang out with. I investigated her, of course, to see if I could find any ammo to hit her with on the stand. But there was nothing there.”