Sue Grafton - I is for Innocent

He turned his engine off and got out. I left mine rumbling, wondering if I had time to roll up my window without seeming rude. He looked harmless enough, though his face was familiar. He was a nice-looking man, in his late forties with light brown wavy hair graying at the temples. He had a straight nose and a strong chin. Short-sleeved T-shirt, chinos, deck shoes without socks.

"You live in the neighborhood?" he asked pleasantly.

I knew this guy. I could feel my smile fade. I said, "You're David Barney."

He braced his arms on the car and leaned toward the window. Subtly, I could feel the man invading my turf, though his manner remained benign. "Look, I know this is inappropriate. I know I'm way out of line here, but if I can just have five minutes, I swear I won't bother you again."

I studied him briefly while I consulted my internal warning system. No bells, no whistles, no warning signs. While the man had annoyed me on the telephone, "up close and personal" he seemed like ordinary folk. It was broad daylight, a pleasant middle-class neighborhood. He didn't appear to be armed. What was he going to do, gun me down in the streets with his trial a month away? At this point, I had no idea where my investigation was going. Maybe he'd provide some inspiration for a change. I thought about the professional implications of the conversation. According to the State Bar Rules of Court, an attorney is not permitted to communicate directly with the "represented party." A private investigator isn't limited by the same stringent code.

"Five minutes," I said. "I have to be somewhere after that." I didn't tell him the appointment was with his ex-wife. I turned the engine off and remained in my car with the window rolled down halfway.

He closed his eyes, letting out a big breath. "Thank you," he said. "I really didn't think you'd do this. I don't even know where to begin," he said. "Let me admit to something right up front. I pulled your distributor caps. It was a sneaky thing to do and I apologize. I just didn't think you'd agree to talk to me otherwise."

"You got that right," I said.

He looked off down the street and then he shook his head. "Did you ever lose your credibility? It's the most amazing phenomenon. You know, you live all your life being an upright citizen, obeying the law, paying taxes, paying your bills on time. Suddenly, none of that counts and anything you say can be held against you. It's too weird…"

I tuned him out briefly, reminded of a time, not that long ago, when my own credibility went south and I was suspected of taking bribes by the very company that had trusted me with its business for six years.

"… really thought it was over. I thought I'd come through the worst of it when I was acquitted on the criminal charges. I just got my life back and now I'm being sued for everything I own. I live like a leper. I'm shunned…" He straightened up. "Oh, hell, let's not even get into that," he said. "I'm not trying to generate sympathy-"

"What are you trying to do?"

"Appeal to your sense of fair play. This guy McIntyre, the informant-"

"Where'd you get that name?"

"My attorney took his deposition. I was floored when I heard what he had to say."

"I'm not at liberty to discuss this, Mr. Barney. I hope you understand that."

"I know that. I'm not asking. I just beg you to consider. Even if he'd actually been in the courthouse when the verdict came down, why would I say such a thing to him? I'd have to be nuts. Have you met… what's his name, Curtis? I was in a cell with the man less than twenty-four hours. The guy's a schmuck. He comes up to me on acquittal and I confess to murder? The story's crazy. He's an idiot. You can't believe that."

I was feeling oddly protective of Curtis. There was no way I was going to tell Barney the informant had changed his account. Curtis's testimony might still prove useful if we could ever figure out what the truth was. I didn't intend to discuss the details of his statement, however shaky it might appear. "This isn't such a hot idea," I said.

Barney went on, "Just think about it, please. Does he strike you as the type I'd confide my darkest secrets to? This is a frame-up. Somebody paid him to say that-"

"Get to the point. The talk about a frame-up is horseshit. I don't want to hear it."

"Okay, okay. I understand where you're corning from. That wasn't my intention anyway," he said. "When we spoke on the phone, I mentioned the business about this guy Shine. I was thrown by his death. It really shook me, I can tell you. I know you didn't take me seriously at the time, but I'm telling the truth. I talked to him last week and told him the same stuff I'm telling you. He said he'd check into a couple of matters. I thought maybe the guy was going to give me a break. When I heard he was dead, it scared the hell out of me. I feel like I'm playing chess with an invisible opponent and he just made a move. I'm getting boxed in here and I don't see a way out."

"Wait a minute. Did you think Morley Shine would do something your own attorney couldn't manage?"

"Hiring Foss on this one was a big mistake. Civil work doesn't interest him. Maybe he's burned out or maybe he's just tired of representing me. He's strictly painting by the numbers, doing what's expected, as far as I can see. He's got some investigator on it-one of those guys who generates a lot of paper, but doesn't inspire much confidence."

"So why don't you fire him?"

"Because they'll claim all I'm doing is impeding due process. Besides, I've got no money left. What little I have goes to pay my attorney, plus the upkeep on the house. I don't know what Kenneth Voigt thinks he's going to get out of the deal even if he makes this thing stick."

"I'm not going to argue the merits of the case. This is pointless, Mr. Barney. I understand you have problems-"

"Hey, you're right. I didn't mean to get off on that stuff. Here's the point: This case goes into court, all it's going to do is make both these attorneys rich. But Voigt's not going to back off. The guy's after my blood, so there's no way he'll agree to walk off with a handshake and a check for big bucks, even if I had it. But I'll tell you one thing-and here's what I do have-I've got an alibi."

"Really," I said, my voice flat with disbelief.

"Yes, really," he said. "It's not airtight, but it's pretty solid."

"Why didn't it come up during the criminal trial? I've read the transcripts. I don't remember any mention of an alibi."

"Well, you better go back and read the transcripts again because the testimony's right there. Guy named Angeloni. He put me miles from the crime scene."

"And you never testified in your behalf?"

He shook his head. "Foss wouldn't let me. He didn't want the prosecution to get a crack at me and it turned out he played it smart. He said it'd be 'counterproductive' if I took the stand. Hell, maybe he thought I'd alienate the jury if I got up there."

"Why tell me about it?"

"To see if I can put a stop to this before it goes to trial. The meter's ticking. Time is short. I figure my only chance is to make sure Lonnie Kingman knows the cards he's got out against him. Maybe he can talk to Voigt and get him to drop his suit."

"Have Herb Foss talk to Lonnie! That's what attorneys are supposed to do."

"I've asked him to do that. The guy is jerkin' me around. I finally decided it's time to circumvent the man."

"So you're tipping me off to your own attorney's defense?"

"That's right."

"Are you suicidal?"

"I told you I'm desperate. I can't go through this again. You don't have to take my word for it. Check the facts yourself," he said. "Now, do you want to hear me out or not?"

What I wanted was to bang my forehead against the steering wheel till it bled. Maybe the self-inflicted pain would help me clear my thought processes. Actually, I have to confess I was hooked. If nothing else, knowing Herb Foss's strategy would give Lonnie a big advantage, wouldn't it? "Jesus, all right. What's the story?" I said.