Eyes of a Child (83 page)

‘No,' Terri interjected. ‘Part of me always knew better.'

Harris folded her hands in front of her. ‘You're a perceptive woman, Terri. But your mother taught you to suppress the truths within your family, even to forget them. And Ramon Peralta was your first model of a man.' Harris's voice became very soft. ‘“The truth shall make you free,” they say. As terrible as the truth is, you're free now. You've broken the chain, for Elena and for yourself. All you have to do is make a life that really
is
your own.'

One more person deserved to know the truth. A few days later, with Tern's consent, the telling fell to Paget.

Caroline leaned back in her chair.
‘Rosa,'
she murmured. An astonishing range of expressions crossed her face – amazement, deep thought, and a profound seriousness that bespoke a sense of tragedy. And then, to her plain surprise, Caroline Masters began to laugh until her eyes danced.

‘
Rosa
,' she repeated. ‘God, Chris, I just love assisting justice by accident. It expands my sense of the possible.' She touched her forehead. ‘It isn't funny,' she managed. ‘I don't know what's wrong with me. Really, I don't.'

‘Take your time, Caroline. I'm pretty well out of cosmic jokes. So you might as well enjoy
this
one.'

Through her laughter, Caroline gave him a long look that, after a moment, turned wholly serious. ‘Will you please tell me,' she said at last, ‘just what you thought
you
were doing?'

Paget shrugged. ‘Oddly enough, I thought I was protecting myself.' He sat back, watching evening settle onto the city.

‘I'd already lied to Terri about being at Richie's; I wasn't prepared to confront her with what I'd learned about her father's death, at least until I thought about it. Then, suddenly, there was Monk questioning Terri. All at once, I sounded like a man who'd lied to her in order to build an alibi –'

‘But
lying
to Monk . . .'

‘Stupid, I know. But I didn't remember leaving prints and didn't know that Mrs Keller had seen me. So I made the split-second calculation that Monk wouldn't have a case unless I told the truth.' Paget's voice took on an ironic inflection. ‘The truth being that I'd been knocking around the blackmailer who'd smeared my son – on the very night someone killed him – but had taken care to leave him still alive.

‘You can also see now why I wouldn't take the stand. I refused to lie to the jury – to say I wasn't there – and admitting that I
was
there would be to admit lying to Monk. Which, with Brooks and Colt after me and no other suspect except Terri, might well have been fatal.'

Caroline considered him. ‘Not to mention that you would have had to tell the jury about Rosa – and Terri. So you decided to take the chance that your disgruntled but gifted lawyer could walk you on reasonable doubt.'

‘Just so.' Paget gazed out the window. ‘But when the Goodwill lady
did
show up, I was stuck – your entire cross-examination had been based on suggesting that I wasn't there. If I'd taken the stand after
that
and said I
was
there, they'd have convicted me for sure.'

‘Probably.' Caroline gave him a quizzical smile. ‘Is that why you kept the diary? Because you thought it was Rosa's motive?'

‘One reason. Of course, I wasn't at all sure that Rosa had killed Richie. But if I'd been convicted, she and I were going to have a little chat.' His eyes went cold. ‘Even then, I put myself ahead of her. Not to mention Carlo. I wasn't leaving him behind if I could help it.'

‘And Terri?' Caroline said.

‘Was, to me, an implausible murderer. But it had to be Rosa or Terri. Never for a minute did I believe that stuff you dreamed up about drug dealers and homicidal politicians, and I assume you didn't, either.'

‘Of course not,' Caroline said. ‘To the extent
I
considered it, I thought it was either
you
or Terri. After Terri's testimony, I even considered a possible conspiracy.
Both
of you, with Terri providing extremely clever testimony you'd auditioned in advance.'

Even now, the remark hit Paget hard. ‘Jesus,' he said.

Caroline gave him a look of compassion. ‘So perhaps you can forgive Teresa for suspecting what
I
suspected rather frequently.' Another brief smile. ‘That I was representing a murderer I liked rather more than I should.'

Paget did not smile. ‘You're forgiven, Caroline. Terri I'm still working out.'

Caroline tented her fingers, as if considering whether to speak. ‘Is there any hope for that?' she asked finally.

‘Aside from the fact that Terri went for months believing that I was a killer? Consider Carlo, then, or Elena. We'd be asking
her
to live in a family with a stepbrother accused of molesting her, and a stepfather who some people will always believe killed her real father. How could we make a child do all that? Or, for that matter, Carlo.'

Caroline considered him. ‘Because Terri's who you want?'

Paget was quiet for a time. ‘It would have to be right for our kids,' he said. ‘And that's pretty hard to imagine.'

For a moment Caroline looked reflective, almost sad. ‘There, regrettably, I'm out of my depth. Although I had a goldfish once.'

Paget smiled. ‘Mine always died.'

‘Mine too.' Caroline stood abruptly. ‘I hate to run, Chris, but I have a partners meeting – something about what we're paying all of us next fiscal year. Prudence suggests that I should show an interest.'

‘I imagine so.' Standing, Paget thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘Somehow, I don't think I've quite managed to thank you. At least adequately.'

‘Oh, I should thank
you
.' Caroline took him by the arm, steering him to the door. But when he turned to say goodbye, she slid her hand behind his neck and kissed him, slowly and sweetly, on the cheek. And then she leaned back, eyes bright again. ‘
That
,' she said, ‘was for being innocent. Now go and get some good out of it.'

A few weeks later, when Terri found that she and Chris were still together, she asked Carlo to dinner.

They went for sushi in Chris's neighborhood; the restaurant was bright and quiet and had sushi that met Carlo's standards. Eating his way through the menu, Carlo was equable and somewhat distant, as he so often seemed with Chris these days. Terri had the sense of someone who had begun living his own life and keeping his own counsel, becoming more like his father than Chris had ever wanted for him. Next to Elena, the relationship between Chris and Carlo struck her as the biggest casualty of Richie's death.

‘Somehow,' Terri admitted finally, ‘I was hoping to help make things better between you and your dad, if not between you and me. Even
I
miss how things were.'

Carlo gave her the same look she had seen from Chris: a disconcerting mixture of directness, detachment, and a certain lack of sentiment. But they're
not
the same, the look said, so wishing for that is pointless. Aloud, Carlo answered, ‘Things happen, that's all. For years, I depended on my dad. But you can't stay a kid forever.'

Weaned affections, Chris once had said sardonically, referring to his feelings about his own parents. But Chris deserved better. ‘Do you think you'll stay this angry?' Terri asked.

Carlo shrugged. ‘Who said I'm angry?'

‘No one. And Chris has never said he's angry at me. So I guess that he must not be.'

Carlo raised his eyebrows. ‘Dad?' he said with irony. ‘He's too cool to be angry?'

‘Are you too cool?'

Carlo gave her a long look of scrutiny, as if deciding whether to be candid. ‘No,' he said finally. ‘I'm not.'

Please, Terri thought, talk to me as you did before your father and I became lovers. ‘Is it more Elena? Or what your dad chose not to tell you?'

Carlo contemplated a piece of California roll and then put it down. ‘Elena,' he said finally, ‘I'm learning to live with. I've sort of figured out that if you show up somewhere and
you
know you're okay, people will accept that.' He paused, and then shrugged. ‘Anyhow, Katie always knew I didn't do it.'

The last remark, quiet but pointed, struck Terri on several levels: that Katie had believed in Carlo more than Terri had believed in Chris; that Terri had also wondered about Carlo; and that Carlo, at sixteen, had emotional connections to his peers as real and immediate as to his own parent. ‘Has it been hard,' she asked, ‘not telling Katie what really happened?'

Carlo considered her. ‘I never felt like I needed to,' he answered.

Terri watched him. ‘But your father
did
need to, didn't he. So when he felt he could, he told you everything.'

Carlo's eyes hardened. ‘He left me out there for a long time.'

Terri nodded. ‘I understand how you feel, Carlo – it was exactly what he did to me. But you were a
witness.
If Chris had told you the truth, you would have had to choose between lying about what you knew or possibly convicting him.' Terri paused, adding quietly, ‘Besides, do you think he should have told you about
me
? Or do you tell
him
everything about Katie.'

Carlo inspected her. ‘No. But this involved me.'

‘
And
me.' Terri softened her voice. ‘I'm not saying your dad was right, and I know he put a lot on you. I also know that he feels like he did you,
and
his relationship to you, permanent harm. Which is the thing that means more to him than anything. Or anyone.' She touched his arm. ‘You
do
know that, don't you?'

‘Basically, yes.'

‘Basically? Chris adores you.' Terri looked at him intently. ‘Part of growing up is being your own person. I think you're getting that much pretty well down. I'm not so sure about the other part.'

Carlo gave her the remote gaze that, in Chris, Terri recognized as a kind of challenge. ‘Which is?'

‘Accepting Chris as he is – a flawed person who loves you and who's done pretty well by you without a road map from his own parents, or help from a partner.' She looked at him intently. ‘You were upset about nearly losing him, and I don't blame you. Instead you still
have
him. Does that make him less worth loving?'

Carlo reached for the California roll, chewing it with a narrow-eyed look and then washing it down with a sip of Terri's beer. ‘Nope,' he finally said.

There was the first trace of a smile around Carlo's eyes. Emboldened, Terri added, ‘But try not to be
too
much like your dad, okay? Not everyone can pick up the signals.'

To her surprise, Carlo grinned. ‘Mr Warm and Fuzzy, you mean? Yeah, I wish he weren't so emotional all the time. It's embarrassing.'

In her relief, Terri laughed aloud. ‘I know. Especially in front of company.'

The moment reminded Terri of their first common bond – a gentle mockery of Chris, based on shared affection. But then Carlo asked, as he would not have a year before, ‘What about your mother?'

It startled Terri into quiet. ‘It's not the same,' she finally said.

Carlo had stopped smiling. ‘You've got
that
right,' he said coolly. ‘How are you dealing with it all?'

Terri shook her head. ‘Badly. I don't have nightmares anymore. Just flashbacks from my childhood, and terrible guilt.' She looked into Carlo's face. ‘It isolates me, in a way. There's this horrible thing, the biggest thing in my life, and I can't talk about it to anyone but Chris. Who's the person everyone blamed for it. Including me.'

Carlo considered her. ‘Yeah,' he said. ‘About that, I know what you mean.'

It was several months before Paget encountered Victor Salinas, and then Salinas came to his office unannounced.

‘I didn't know if you'd see me,' Salinas said without preface, ‘and I think we need to talk.'

‘Who did I murder now?'

Salinas gave him an edgy, delayed smile. ‘McKinley Brooks?'

Paget stared at him. ‘Sit down.'

‘Can we talk about this in confidence?'

‘Yes.'

Sitting, Salinas looked around for a moment, taking in Paget's paintings and the small sculpture on his desk. To Paget, he seemed more muted than in the bleak environs of the Hall of Justice, his home. ‘I'd like to run for district attorney,' Salinas said.

Paget nodded. ‘Let me see if I follow, Victor. After what Caroline did at my trial, McKinley's anonymous friend became too gun-shy to find Mac some higher office. On the other hand, Mac is insufficiently wounded not to run for D.A. again. Which leaves him in your way.' Paget paused, and then his voice became dry. ‘You're not here to ask me for money,' he went on, ‘because taking it would be so unseemly. So you're wondering whether I want to screw Mac so badly that I'd help you become D.A. in some
other
way – say, for example, by digging up more dirt on how Mac tampered with the Ricardo Arias inquiry. You can't use the cops to help you: you're not the D.A., and Charles Monk won't play ball with anyone. On the other hand,
I
could probably ask Johnny Moore to see what he could find – like the nameless “source” who no doubt contacted McKinley Brooks
after
the cops found Richie dead.' Paget leaned back, his expression one of polite inquiry. ‘Is that about it? Or is there some subtlety I've missed?'

Paget could not help but admire Salinas's calm; his surprise had shown only for a second. But then Salinas was, as Paget knew, a capable trial lawyer. ‘You're in the ballpark,' he said.