Faye Kellerman - The Burnt House

“No, you don’t,” Dudley answered. “He was speaking metaphorically.”

“There’s nothing to see even if I gave you permission,” Holmes said.

Decker was quiet for a moment. Like all good tall tales, this one had snippets of truth. “What was your given name?”

Holmes’s eyes darted from side to side. If the guy had any smarts, he had to figure that this was going to be Decker’s next question.

“Is that really necessary?” Holmes stalled. “I want to put that part of my life behind me.”

“Yes, it is really necessary.”

“Why?” Dudley asked. “Unless it has direct impact on the so-called charges that you’re going to present us with, it is irrelevant.”

“It has to do with the truthfulness of your client, sir.” Decker faced Holmes. “What’s your given name?”

Holmes was silent. Dudley filled in the silence. “If you want to know the answer to that question, come back with a warrant.”

Decker held up the palm of his hand. “It’s rhetorical, Counselor. Because Mr. Holmes has to know that if he was in the prison system, his fingerprints would be on file.”

Holmes reached for more tissues but had used them all up. Decker looked at the mounted video camera and asked for another box of Kleenex. “You know that sample tile that you gave prospective home buyer Oliver Scott day before yesterday? Well, it contained two beautiful right thumb- and index fingerprints.”

Holmes looked green. “He was a cop?”

“He was a cop and he’s looking at you as we speak. Now, when you were incarcerated way back when, we didn’t have the luxury of Automated Fingerprint Identification System, but your prints, of course, were filed even if they weren’t inputted into AFIS. The key is to know who you’re looking for. And we damn well knew who we were looking for. So all we had to do was call up Roswell, and bingo, we had a match. Now, do you want to tell me your given name?”

“You don’t have to answer that, Ray,” Dudley told him. “Either charge him, Lieutenant, or we’re going home.”

Decker regarded Holmes. “If I book you for murder, there’s no turning back. You’re in the system once again, Mr. Holmes. That means you’re going to spend the night in jail while your lawyer sleeps in his bed-”

Holmes held up his hand. His face had become defiant. “If you know who I am, you tell me.”

“Does the name Isabela Devargas ring a bell?”

Holmes blanched and a downpour of water cascaded over his face.

“That’s a woman’s name,” Dudley said.

“That’s a dead woman’s name,” Decker answered.

D UDLEY SAID, “I need time alone with my client.”

Decker ignored him. “We found her body, Mr. Holmes. She’s right there where you left her. If there were intervening circumstances, now’s the time to tell me.”

“I told you, I need time alone with my client,” the lawyer insisted.

“You can have as much time as you want once I book him for murder.”

“Lieutenant, even if he talked to you now, you can’t use what he says.”

“I can if he allows it.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Holmes protested. “I did not kill her!”

“So tell your lawyer that you want to tell me about it.”

“Ray, shut up!” Dudley said.

“You shut the fuck up,” Holmes snapped back. “It’s not your ass on the line. He’s right about one thing. You’re going to sleep in a bed tonight.”

“You’re paying me to advise you, let me advise you. First, let me talk to you so I know what’s going on!” Dudley turned to Decker. “I repeat. I need to talk to my client in private.”

“I’m trying to help you, Mr. Holmes.” Decker pulled out his coup de grâce and handed it to Dudley. “I’ve got a warrant for your arrest for the murder of Isabela Hernandez.” He turned to Dudley. “The woman was once Mr. Holmes’s sister-in-law.” Back to Holmes. “I haven’t executed the warrant yet. So if you want to talk to me, now’s the time.”

“Don’t say a word!”

“I didn’t touch the bitch,” Holmes said.

“Then tell your lawyer that you want to tell me who did the murder. Tell your lawyer that you want to talk to me to clear things up.”

“Don’t say another word, Ray. He’s lying to you!”

“He doesn’t have a warrant for my arrest?”

Dudley stammered, “Well, yes, but if you talk to him, it’ll only get you into trouble. That’s the game they use, Ray. They pretend to be sympathetic, but they’re not. Just let them go through the motions of booking you and I’ll have you out of here by tonight.”

“Or maybe tomorrow morning, depending how the docket goes,” Decker added.

“So that’s your advice? To let the bastard arrest me?”

“He’s going to arrest you, Ray, whether you talk to him or not!”

“But maybe not for murder,” Decker said.

“He’s lying through his teeth,” Dudley said.

Decker was lying through his teeth. The lawyer was absolutely right. But Holmes’s aversion to prison was stronger than logic. He crossed his arms. “I’m not going to talk to you, Lieutenant. But if you tell me what you know, I’ll correct your mistakes.”

Holmes thought he was being very clever, but Dudley wasn’t going to give up without a fight. “If you correct him in front of me, he can take those words and twist them against you, Ray.”

“I’ll take that chance.” Holmes sat back in his chair. “Go on. Tell me what you’ve heard.”

“Okay, let’s give it a shot,” Decker said. “Thirty years ago, Beth and Manny Hernandez disappeared off the face of the earth. And I know that you, my friend, were christened Belize Hernandez. You are Manny’s brother and Beth’s brother-in-law. And just like you admitted, you’ve had a long history of trouble with the law.”

“And the point is…?”

“You were paroled thirty-two years ago for good behavior, about six months before your brother and sister-in-law disappeared. You moved to Madrid, New Mexico, and lived there for about three months, and eventually, you moved to Arizona, using the name Tomas Martinez. You hopped around the state for a while. You lived in Mesa, Yuma, Tucson, Phoenix.”

“I don’t deny that, either. I worked construction. I was building up my skills. I was still that Latino from New Mexico and Arizona felt familiar to me.”

“You were in Arizona for around five years-”

“I was learning my trade. So what?”

“Then we lost track of you,” Decker continued on. “Three years later you take the contractor’s licensing examination in San Jose using the name Raymond Holmes.”

“I told you, I changed my name to Raymond Holmes to make me sound less Latino. And I did that legally. So far, all you have on me is stealing the name Tomas Martinez. And I told you I stole his name because I wanted to make a fresh start. Adios to Belize and hello to Tomas. So what?”

“No problem, Belize, but here is where we have conflicting information. Before you made that move to Arizona, we have some unaccounted time for your whereabouts and that period happens to coincide with the disappearance of your brother and sister-in-law.”

“You expect me to remember every minute for the last thirty-two years?” Holmes sneered. “I bet you can’t even remember what you had for dinner last Thursday.”

“You’re right. I don’t remember what I had for dinner last Thursday. But I definitely would remember killing my sister-in-law.”

“I already told you, I did not kill her!”

“Well, other people and this warrant say you did.”

Holmes bolted up and started to pace. “Who says I killed her?”

“Sit down, Ray,” Dudley told his client.