Stephen White - Critical Conditions

I had been thinking about that girl a lot lately. And I had been thinking about Merritt a lot lately. But I didn’t tell Sam. He wanted to believe that Merritt was a good kid and that she hadn’t killed Dead Ed. For now, that was probably best.

He stopped at the landing at the head of the stairs. “I don’t know if they’re going to listen to my advice. Brenda and John. So I want you to make sure that if this serial number comes back a match that the first call they make is to Cozier Maitlin. They’re under too much pressure, they’re not thinking straight. I don’t want them doing anything to jeopardize this kid. Maitlin will know what to do. Cozier Maitlin. You got it?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Sam.”

He turned his back on me before he said, “I’m not offering advice here.”

“I know, Sam. Cozy’s a good choice. I know what’s at stake.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t have a clue.”

Cozier Maitlin arrived in his black BMW before the Boulder Police Department reinforcements showed up en masse. I met him on the driveway and quickly underscored the complications of his new client’s situation.

Cozy towered over me. Briefly, a few months back, Cozy Maitlin had been my lawyer-and Lauren’s-and I’d spent quite a few hours getting to know him. I’d never become accustomed to his full head advantage over me. I stand a touch over six-one, yet with Cozy I always felt like a point guard trying to drive the lane against a towering center.

He relished his size when he was trying to be intimidating, and he was capable of intimidating with aplomb. After my presentation of a synopsis of the night’s events he was visibly upset with my actions and he didn’t mince words letting me know it. “Given what you suspected was going on you should have called me first, right away, not Sam Purdy-”

“He’s family, Cozy. He’s-”

“I don’t care. Sam’s a cop, and because he was invited into this house that means I don’t have much of a reason not to grant a waiver so that any cop who wants to can come into this house, which means the police don’t need to harass a judge for a warrant for permission to poke around inside. They would have gotten in anyway, but now we’ve lost the advantage of being able to appear cooperative.”

“Brenda and I did cooperate. We called the police right away.”

He seemed to be considering whether to lecture me in more depth as he looked toward the front door. “Where is she? The mother? Is she inside? I hope she’s not chatting with Sam, or anyone else for that matter.”

“I don’t think so. Sam’s been deferential to her and no one else is here yet. Although she’s a little shocky, she’s bright, and she understands what’s going on. She’s inside, in the living room. I suggested she not talk to anyone before you arrived and spoke with her. Sam heard me and told her it was good advice.”

His tone softened. “Bravo. At least you learned something from our adventures last fall. Sam Purdy said that, really-told her not to talk? That’s hard to believe.”

“Merritt’s his niece, Cozy, and the family situation is messy. He’s worried about her welfare. Although my guess is that he doesn’t want anyone to know it, he insisted that I convince Brenda to call you.”

“I have to digest all this a little. But I don’t trust it. In my experience most cops are cops first and uncles second.” He started toward the front door, and his voice dropped and softened. “How’s Lauren?”

“Adjusting, Cozy. She’s visiting her family right now; her mother is ill. But Lauren’s doing okay, considering. Thanks.” I rapped the front door sharply and pushed it open. “You’re still seeing Adrienne?” I knew he was, but thought I’d see how he would respond. And I was still struggling with what to say when people asked me about Lauren.

Cozy hesitated before going in. “Yes, I am still seeing the little doctor. Being with her is a constant surprise. Every time-I mean every time-it’s like parachuting in the dark. You never know what the hell you’re going to find. It’s fun, it’s disconcerting.” He stepped in. “Why don’t you show me what you discovered and introduce me to my client’s mother?”

We walked into the narrow foyer, and turned to face the living room. I said, “Cozier Maitlin, this is Brenda Strait. Brenda, Cozier Maitlin, the attorney we discussed.”

I was tired. It hadn’t occurred to me that Cozy would know her from the news, but apparently he watched Channel 7 and he recognized her immediately.

With a hint of rebuke in his voice that was directed at me, he said, “Alan-Dr. Gregory-only told me your first name when he phoned. I didn’t realize who you were, or the extent of the stress you’ve been under already. You are the little girl’s mom as well, aren’t you? The one who is so sick.”

“Yes, I’m Chaney’s mom. Would it have mattered, Mr. Maitlin, had you known who I was?”

“No. But I like to be prepared, Ms. Strait. In every situation. That’s all. I’m terribly sorry for your daughter’s illness and for the problems with the insurance company. And, well, for this new…complication.”

I found it curious that Brenda had calmed so considerably. It appeared she was taking Maitlin’s measure. “Do you have children, Mr. Maitlin?”

“No, I don’t. My ex-wife has twins. I’m very close to them. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“You know, I can’t either,” said Brenda.

Cozy continued, “I would like to look around a little before we talk some more. I hope that’s acceptable. Would you mind terribly telling anyone who might arrive eager to speak with you that I have advised you to speak only with me for the time being?”

“That’s fine, Mr. Maitlin.”

“Well, then, Alan?”

I had been wondering where Sam was. Cozy and I found him upstairs in Merritt’s room, his hands in his pockets, taking in every minute detail of her bedroom.

“Sam,” I said, “Cozy Maitlin’s here.”

He didn’t bother to say hello or turn to face us. He said, “Hold your breath, Counselor. I was invited in.”

“Hello, Sam. No need to be so defensive. What have you found?”

Sam finally faced us. It seemed to take him at least five little steps to turn 180 degrees. He stuck his tongue in his cheek. I couldn’t tell whether he was planning to be cooperative or whether he was planning to be obstreperous. I wouldn’t have taken bets. He said, “Alan told you about the bloody clothes? There they are. Please don’t touch them.” He pointed at the storage case that was open on the floor. “And the weapon is in the bathroom, through there. Ditto about touching.”

In the distance I heard the sounds of vehicles arriving and the muffled thumps of door slams.

Sam did, too. “That’ll be the department.”

“What took so long?”

“Warrant. This case won’t be mine, you know. I wasn’t catching tonight, and with the family complications and everything, this will go to someone else.”

I said, “Of course. Do you know who?”

“No. But we’ll find out soon enough. Depending on how the blood types out, they may just fold this into the Dead Ed investigation.”

I asked, “Did you get a call back on the serial number, Sam?”

Cozy was crouched over the bloody clothes. He raised his head from a serious examination of the contents of the storage box and waited with me to hear Sam’s reply and for an elucidation of Sam’s reference to Dead Ed.

I was certain Cozy already had a few dozen questions of his own. His restraint surprised me.

Downstairs, the front door opened and I heard a voice say, “Police officers,” and Brenda Strait reply, “Come in. I’m Brenda Strait.”