John Lescroart - Guilt

'Hey, Jimmy. You got any special technique for splatter stains?'

'The blood?' He swallowed, a prominent Adam's apple bobbing. 'No, nothing special. Clear photos – my particular area of expertise, you know – and something to provide perspective in the picture. You see something?'

'I think so.'

'Then you got it.'

Thieu was standing next to them both. Glitsky could figuratively almost hear him panting there, dying to ask what he'd seen and having no clue. He started to take pity on him, turned to answer, when Alice Carter, the coroner's tech from the other side of the bed, spoke up.

'Abe?' She pointed a finger at him and curled it toward her. Come here. 'Anybody move this body?'

'I don't think so. Not since I've been here.'

Thieu spoke up. 'She was this way when I came in, too.'

'I think you want to be sure on this. The responding officers still below?'

Thieu was already moving out the room's door, going to get them if they were still there.

'Why?' Abe asked.

Ms Carter pointed at Sheila Dooher's bare right shoulder, the exposed back beneath it, a slight darkening, red under the skin. 'Because we've got what looks a whole lot like fixed lividity here in the upper right quadrant.'

'Which means she was moved…'

'Right, and after she'd been dead a while.'

It was well after midnight. Thieu trailing behind him, Glitsky stopped in the doorway to the library and caught Dooher in an unguarded moment, sitting back in his wingchair, legs crossed, talking with another man. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but Dooher's expression was bland, his body language relaxed.

It had been a week now since Abe had lost his wife and he had yet to draw an easy breath. His tired muscles seemed as though their ache would never end and his jangled nerves, strung with fatigue, twitched like a thoroughbred's.

And here was Dooher, his wife gone less than three hours, all but holding court. The comparison invited conclusions. Glitsky was going to have to concentrate to keep his personal feelings from intruding.

This had to be by the book.

Today's date is Wednesday, June 8th. The time is approximately 0020

hours. This is Sergeant Inspector Abraham Glitsky, star number 1144.

/ am currently at 4215 Ravenwood Drive, San Francisco. Present

and being interviewed is Mark Dooher, Caucasian male, 4/19/47.

With me is Sergeant Inspector Paul Thieu, star 2067, and Mr Dooher's

attorney Wes Farrell.

Q: Mr Dooher, I'll be tape-recording your statement, as you can see.

Do you have any objection to this?

A: No, none.

Q: But, for the record, your attorney did raise some objections to

your coming downtown to give your statement.

A: (Farrell) Sergeant, we've been through that. It's after midnight

and the man's wife has just been killed. Since Mr Dooher wasn 't home

all night, he couldn't possibly be a suspect in this crime. He voluntarily

has agreed to give a statement here and now. There's no reason to go

downtown.

A: (Dooher) It's all right, Wes. What do you need for the statement,

Sergeant?

Q: How about starting by telling what you found here tonight?

A: All right. At about nine forty-five, I got home from hitting a couple

of buckets of golf balls at the San Francisco Driving Range, (pause)

As you know, I've had some bad luck with driving ranges lately.

Q: You got home at quarter to ten…

A: Right. I came inside…

Q: What car were you driving and where did you park?

A: I was driving my Lexus. It's light brown with personalized plates

reading ESKW. I drove up the driveway and parked in the garage

behind the house. I closed the garage door behind me – it's automatic

– and walked out the side door of the garage on the path next to my

back lawn, to the driveway, and in the side door.

Q: Was the door locked?

A: I don't remember, to tell you the truth. I wouldn 't have noticed

anyway. I always just put my key in first, give it a turn, it opens. I

don't remember specifically.

Q: Do you remember if the overhead light was on?

A: No. I don't believe it was. It must have burned out.

Q: Okay. What did you do then?

A: I went to turn off the alarm system – we have a box next to the

doors – and I noticed it hadn 't been set.

Q: Was that unusual?

A: Unfortunately, no. Sheila… that was one of the things she wasn't …

A: (Farrell) Give him a minute, here, would you? You all right, Mark?

A: (Dooher) Yeah, okay. Sorry. Sheila often forgot to set the alarm

system. She would go in and out a lot and thought it was silly -

unnecessary – while we were home. She thought it was more for when

we went on vacation, times like that. She thought I was paranoid.

Q: All right. Then what?

A: Then I went into the kitchen, did the dinner dishes which were still

there. Then I had a beer and read the mail.

Q: You thought your wife had gone up to bed?

A: I knew she had gone up to bed, Sergeant. We'd split a bottle of

wine for dinner. She hit the wall around seven-thirty and said she

wanted to turn in. So I thought I'd go to the range. Anyway, I finished

my beer and went upstairs…

Q: Did you touch your wife?

A: No. I turned on the lights and it was obvious she was dead. I

suppose I froze a minute or two. I don't remember. Then I guess I

called nine one one.

Q: And then what?

A: Then I sat on the stairs and waited. No, I checked the other upstairs

rooms, too.

Q: You didn't try to resuscitate her, anything like that?

A: (Farrell) Sergeant, he's answered that. She was obviously dead.

Q: Did you touch the body at all?

A: (Dooher) There was blood all over the place! There wasn't any

doubt – you can tell when somebody's dead. I didn 't know what to do,

to tell you the truth. I don't even know exactly what I did. I was afraid.

I suddenly thought the guy might still be in the house. I don't know. I

just don't know.

Q: I'm sorry, Mr Dooher, but I need a specific answer to the question.

Did you at any time up to right now touch Mrs Dooher's body?

A: No.

Q: All right, let's go back. Earlier in the day, before…

A: (Farrell) What's that got to do with anything, Sergeant?

A: (Dooher) It's okay, Wes. My attorney here wants to make sure I

don't say anything to incriminate myself. But I can't incriminate myself

since I didn't do anything. How far back do you want to go, Sergeant?

Last week?

Q: Let's start when you got off work.

Christina stood by the French doors and watched Dooher move about his backyard, greeting the other mourners.

She was fighting the feeling that she really didn't belong here, guilt that in her heart she didn't mourn Sheila Dooher's passing. It freed Mark – there was no sense denying it. She sighed heavily.

'I'm glad you're here. I don't know anybody.'

She turned to see Sam Duncan, her arm still in a cast. 'You know me now. But why are you here?'