Ed Mcbain - Mischief

A: That’s for a jury to decide, isn’t it?

Q: Who’s being premature now? Let me tell you what the next step is, Mr. Colbert, now that we’ve got a positive handwriting match. The next step…

A: Please don’t treat me like a child.

Q: Excuse me, I’m sure you know what the next step is. The next step is we’re going to ask for a warrant to search your apartment for the murder weapon, which according to Ballistics was a Smith & Wesson .38. That’s the next step. The court order’ll be granted, Mr. Colbert, because now we’ve got three things linking you to the murders. If you want my opinion…

A: I don’t.

Q: Take it, anyway. Gratis, and for the record. If you didn’t get rid of that gun…if that gun, for example, is still in your apartment or your car, or wherever you’re keeping it…then you can kiss your chances goodbye. We’ve got a strong case even without the murder weapon, but it’ll be airtight once we recover the gun. And don’t tell us again to go for a court order. You know we will, and you know it’ll be granted, and you also know the gun’ll wrap it tighter than Dick’s hatband, if it’s still in your possession. You’re the only one who knows that, counselor. So what do you say?

A: What are you asking me?

Q: I’m asking you to tell us all about it.

A: Why should I?

Q: Make life easier for all of us.

A: How will it make my life easier? The way I see it, you’ve got a bunch of paint cans that don’t link me to anything, and you’ve got a note that may or may not link me to the murder downtown, but that’s all it does, if it does.

Q: It says in plain English you also killed the three uptown .

A: Is it signed perchance?

Q: It’s in your handwriting perchance.

A: It still isn’t signed.

Q: How about the gun, counselor?

Colbert didn’t answer.

“ Are we going to find that gun?” Kling asked.

“How would I know? Go get your search warrant. Meanwhile I suggest you take me to a judge fast . You’ve got twenty-four hours from the moment of arrest to have me arraigned—and the clock is ticking.”

“Let’s say we find the gun…”

“Let’s say you do.”

“We’ve got the bullets on the bookstore murder. If they match your gun…”

“Even if you find the gun, you’d have no way of proving it’s mine. And no way of proving I fired it. But this is all academic. Get your search warrant, go look for the gun. Then we’ll talk.”

“Maybe we better step outside a minute,” Parker suggested.

Kling looked at him, puzzled.

“Sure,” he said.

“HE KNOWSwe won’t find that gun in his apartment, his car, wherever,” Parker said. “And he’s right. No gun, no case.”

“We’ve got the handwriting match,” Kling reminded him.

“Will that be enough to send him away on four counts of Murder Two?” Parker asked. “We get him in court, they’ll put on their own handwriting expert, he’ll testify I wrote the fuckin note.”

“Wait a minute,” Kling said. “If he’s not in possession of the gun, then who is ?”

“Some alligator down the sewer,” Parker said.

“No,” Kling said. “Where’d we find those paint cans?”

IN A ROOMdown the hall, Assistant District Attorney Nellie Brand was having a similar conversation with Meyer and Hawes.

“Let’s say we get a court order to toss his car,” Nellie said.

“That’s exactly what we should do,” Meyer said. “Soon as possible.”

“I agree,” Nellie said. “And let’s say we find some hair or skin samples that match the old lady’s who died of a heart attack…”

“She’s been buried already,” Hawes said.

“We can get a court order to have the body disinterred,” Nellie said.

Meyer looked at her skeptically.

“Okay, maybe not. But let’s say we find fiber samples that match her robe or her nightgown or whatever. Together with the blanket, this would tie him to the old lady, and we’ve got either a potential A—skimpy but who knows?—or a positive C.”

“Skimpy how? The A?”

“Samples would put her in his car, but that’s all,” Nellie said. “It wouldn’t mean he was driving the car.”

“The other two identified him as the one driving the car, the one who dumped them.”

“The other two aren’t dead,” Nellie said.

“Not through lack of trying,” Meyer said dryly.

“But even alive, we’ve got him cold on two good D felonies. I’ll tell Campbell we’re going for Murder Two with the old lady and Reckless Endangerment One on the two gents. He’ll say we haven’t got a case with the woman, which as a matter of fact we don’t unless we come up with something from Hamilton’s car, or unless the party or parties who hired him come forward, which is what I call the Fat Chance Department. So unless we come up with something in the car, I’ll let Campbell talk me into dropping the old lady entirely and concentrating on the others, which he’ll try to bargain down to Reckless Two, your garden-variety Class-A mis. I’ll tell him No, if I forget the old lady, then it’s Reckless One or nothing at all, and he’ll say Okay, but his man pleads to just one count, and I’ll say Come on, we’ve got a perfect D here, depraved indifference, guy drops off these helpless old people with just a blanket wrapped around them, grave risk of death, all that, textbook definition. He’ll say Okay, he’ll advise his client to plea to both D’s only if I’ll agree to jail time, not prison time, a bullet on each count, concurrent. I’ll tell him Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve got a good hammer here for the seven-year max on one D and a consecutive on the second D, all in the state pen. He’ll say Okay, how about giving me one-to-three concurrent in a state pen, and I’ll tell him No, the least I’ll settle for is open D’s on both counts. That’ll leave the sentencing to the judge. Or, if he prefers—and if his client would rather try rolling the dice for a lifetime sentence—I’ll also go for Murder Two on the old lady. Campbell will settle for the open D’s. In court, he’ll go for probation or a non-prison term, I’ll go for two-and-a-third to seven consecutive in a state pen. My guess is he’ll end up doing one-and-two-thirds to five consec on each count.”

“What about the old lady?” Meyer said.

“Well, if we find anything in the car, I’m ready to shoot for Murder Two.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Some you win, some you lose,” Nellie said, and shrugged. “Let’s go do it. I’ve got to get out of here.”

COLBERT WASstill sitting at the long table in the interrogation room when Parker and Kling got back to him at six-twenty that evening. He looked up when they walked in, grinned at Kling, and said, “Okay to go home now?”

“Few more questions, counselor,” Kling said. “Then you can tell us everything you know about this.”

“Oh, really? This had better be good.”

“You’re pretty sure we won’t find that gun, aren’t you?”

“I told you. Go get your warrant.”

“That’s just what we plan to do. To search the premises at 1137 Albermarle Way.”