Jonathan Kellerman - Self-Defence

Graydon-Jones chewed his lip. His hands played with one another. A full minute passed, then another.

Milo sat back.

Leah looked at her watch and got up. To Milo: "Win some, lose some."

Graydon-Jones said, "I did it because Curt supported me."

"Supported you how?" said Leah.

"Emotionally. Financially. The day before that bloody party, he promised to buy six of my sculptures. And to commission a huge atrium piece for his insurance company. I was a bleeding pauper. I hadn't sold anything since arriving from England. If you were an artist, you'd understand. Curt offered to open up a whole new area of opportunity for me- I thought he was a true patron. It wasn't as if he intended to kill her. She blew him off and he hit her- one of those stupid things. And nothing I did would bring her back. I figured, why should he be ruined because of something stupid like that?"

"You did it for a job?" said Milo.

"Not a job." Graydon-Jones's voice was strangled. "A career."

Leah looked at Milo. "I'm sorry, sir. That's a little hard to believe. I'd never go to court with that."

"But it's true!" Dropping his head. "All right, all right, there was one more thing, though it's no big issue."

"What's that?" said Leah.

"The dope. The quaaludes he gave her. They were mine. Prescription for nerves. I was working mad hours at the foundry, my biorhythms were off-"

"Bull," I said into the mike.

"Just for sleep, huh?" said Milo, smiling and shaking his head.

Graydon-Jones flinched. "All right, for sex, too, the chicks loved it- no big crime. As I said, I had a prescription."

"And you shared your prescription drugs with Karen."

"She didn't protest- she wanted to try- wanted to try everything … except doing Curt. God, he was pissed. After he hit her, I said, "What the bloody hell did you do that for?' and he said, "Don't get all righteous with me,' and started to unzip his trousers. Then he… when she didn't wake up, I panicked, tried to leave. He said, "You've got a problem, Chris. She was in your lap when it happened, you were holding her, she was stoned on your dope.' Telling me if she was found, they'd learn she was on 'ludes and it could be traced to me. He said as far as the law was concerned, I was every bit as guilty as he."

"And you believed that?" said Leah.

"I didn't know American law. I was a fucking starving limey just off the boat!"

"Did you consult an attorney?"

"Right," said Graydon-Jones, "and expose the whole thing- we buried her, for God's sake. It was over."

I said to the mike, "Ask him why he stopped sculpting."

Milo said, "How'd you get from art to the business world?"

"Curt offered me a job at Enterprise. Get paid to learn. As Marlon Brando would say, an offer too good to refuse."

"He also offered you sculpting commissions. Why didn't you take them?"

Graydon-Jones looked away.

Stratton said, "I fail to see what-"

"It all goes to the heart of the matter, Jeff," said Leah. "Namely, your client's credibility."

Graydon-Jones said something unintelligible.

"What's that?" said Leah.

"I lost interest."

"In what?"

"Art. All the pretentiousness. The bullshit. Business is the ultimate art."

Talking fast to conceal the real reason: he'd blocked. And App had been ready to exploit it, just as he had with Lowell.

One night of deception rewarded by twenty years of comfort and status. Success the ultimate dope. Just as it was for Gwen and Tom Shea.

Uneasy alliances held together by sin and guilt.

It had taken a dream to blow them down.

Graydon-Jones was talking to Leah's stoic face. "Don't you see? Curt reversed the entire bloody thing in order to shaft me. All I did was furnish the 'ludes. He hit her- take a closer look at those bones, you'll find something on her jaw- believe me, I was there. He's the killer, not me. He's killed other people-"

"Hold on," said Stratton sharply.

"I've got to prove myself, Jeff!"

"Just hold on, Chris." To us: "Another conference, please. And make sure there are no open mikes anywhere."

Leah said, "I can't promise I'll be here when you're finished."

She and Milo came out, as Stratton turned his back on the mirror and directed Graydon-Jones to do the same.

"Time for the little girls' room."

She left. Milo chewed two wads of gum and tried to blow bubbles. I counted my fingers several dozen times.

From the other side of the glass, Stratton waved and mouthed, "Come back in."

Milo switched on the mike and entered the room.

"Where's Lee?" said Stratton. "Come on, this isn't some shoplifting case."

Milo shrugged. "Maybe she's powdering her nose, she didn't tell me."

"How professional." Stratton looked at his own watch. "We'll give her a minute."

"Big of him," I said to his ear bug.

Milo smiled.

Leah returned.

I crooked a thumb toward the glass. "Stratton's getting antsy. I'd keep working the time bit."

She grinned at me. "I need your little voice in my ear to tell me how to do my job? No, seriously, it's been useful. We should probably do more in-house shrinking on the big cases. Problem is you'd probably charge too much. And most of the other DA's would feel threatened."

Pressing freshly glossed lips together, she asked Lucy, "Still holding up?"

"Holding up fine. I just hope you crack him."

"Like an egg," said Leah. "Over easy."

She fluffed her hair; then she stepped into the interrogation room.

Stratton said, "Hey, Lee, for a minute I thought you'd given it all up for a life of joyful abandon."

"Okay, let's finish up," she said. "If you have something to say, Mr. Graydon-Jones, out with it. Otherwise we'll just work with what we've got."

Stratton said, "Before we go any further, I'd like some definite quid pro quo."

"Pu -leeze."

"You don't care about getting the big fish, Lee?"

"This case, Jeff, they all seem pretty big."

Graydon-Jones cursed under his breath.

"What's that, sir?" said Leah.

Silence.

"You have a comment, Mr. Graydon-Jones, feel free to make it." Glance at her watch.

Stratton said, "My client's willing to offer you information that could clear up two additional homicides. Bona fide homicides, not involuntary manslaughter, which is the most you'll get out of the Best girl, and you know it. You don't want to hear about it, fine." Shrug.

"We'll hear, Jeff. What we won't do is put a price tag on the merchandise until we've had a chance to examine it."

"Believe me," said Stratton, "this is good."

Leah smiled. "I always believe defense attorneys."

Milo said, "My mortgage is assumable, my Porsche is paid for, and the check's in the mail."

Stratton shot him a hard look.

Leah's smile got wider and she put her hand over it. Another peek at her watch. Even though I'd suggested it, I found it an annoying mannerism.

She sighed and got up.

Stratton said, "Fine. Listen and evaluate. I'm sure you're smart enough to see it for what it is."

Leah said, "That's me, Ms. Smart," and clasped her briefcase.

She sat down.

Graydon-Jones looked at Stratton the way a baby looks at its mother just after it receives its first shot.

Stratton said, "Give me a commitment that if the information's good you'll go to bat for my client."

"Going to bat for your client's your job, Jeff. If Mr. Graydon-Jones's information proves useful, it will be taken very seriously. Even in this day and age, we like to clear bona fide homicides."

"It's more than useful," said Stratton. "Believe me. But I think it's important you realize the scope of what we're talking about. Qualitatively. The information Mr. Graydon-Jones is in possession of, in addition to being revelatory, is four-plus exculpatory. "