Read Innocent Online

Authors: Eric Walters

Tags: #JUV013060, #JUV039220, #JUV013050

Innocent (14 page)

BOOK: Innocent
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Twenty-Four

I CAME OUT
of the bank and looked around for David. He was nowhere to be seen. He’d warned me he might be a little late, so there was nothing to do but wait. In my purse was my bank book. I had deposited all of my pay—$35—plus an additional $15 I had held back before, so my account was now an even $300. It felt good to have that much money. It was comfort, defense, a shield against anything that could go wrong, but also something that could help make things go right.

I’d spent a great deal of time thinking about the offer Mrs. Remington had made to help me become a nurse. Staying at the house and working part-time would provide me with room and board and a small stipend for pocket money. Kingston General Hospital was within walking distance of the house, so I wouldn’t need money for transportation. I simply needed to pay for my tuition, books and uniform. Mrs. Meyers had helped me find out all the costs. Mrs. Remington had offered to loan me money, but I wanted to do it myself. I’d calculated—with Mrs. Meyers’s help—that if I saved $950, that would be enough.

Mrs. Remington had also told me that she’d spoken to the president of the hospital, the head of admissions and the dean of the nursing program. They had all assured her that if I applied I would be admitted. All that remained was raising some money and getting confirmation that I had been granted my high-school diploma. I’d know soon enough, and if I didn’t get my diploma—well, it was possible to get it through correspondence courses, even though it would take at least a year. If the fire had happened only a month later, I would have graduated and had my diploma in hand.

Of course, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to just stay here and work for another year. Everybody was so kind, so nice to me, and it seemed like every day I learned more about my mother or me, and I was saving money. And on top of that there was David.

Still, it would be hard if I had to go that route. A car tapped its horn, and I looked up to see David pulling into the parking lot. I ran over to the car, and before I could get there he’d gotten out and opened up the door for me.

“You look very nice today,” he said.

“Thank you.” I was wearing another “new” dress, something else that Mrs. Meyers had crafted. It was more formal and proper, the sort of dress one would wear for going to the bank, but it was also very lovely. David was dressed in a suit jacket and tie. He looked like he was going to church.

As we drove, we talked.

“I’m a little nervous about all of this,” David said.

“I guess it is a little strange going to visit somebody in jail.”

“It’s not just that. I’m meeting my girlfriend’s father.”

I laughed. “Your girlfriend?”

“Technically, you are my
friend
and there’s no denying you are a
girl
, and we did go to the dance on Saturday, and this is, by my count, our fifth date in the past week…so what do you think that makes you?”

“I guess your girlfriend,” I said. “Which would make you my boyfriend.” Oh, my goodness, I had a boyfriend!

The walls of the prison loomed up on the left side of the road and all the talk of boyfriend and girlfriend ended with the seriousness of what we were about to do. David pulled the car up into a parking lot across the street from the entrance.

“Here we are,” he said. “It’s not too late to change your mind if you don’t want to go inside.”

“It’s not so much
want
to as
need
to. But you don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

“I need some answers too.”

We made our way to the first counter. I’d made sure this time that we were there a full thirty minutes before visitation was to begin. David said he wanted to have a few words with the guards as we entered. The same guard as before, looking as sour as before, was behind the counter. But when he saw us, to my shock he smiled. Instinctively I smiled back.

“Good to see you’re here early. Gord will be happy to have you back. And who are you?” he asked, pointing a finger at David.

“I’m here to meet my girlfriend’s father.”

“And to keep me company,” I added.

David pulled out his wallet and flashed the guard his badge.

“I don’t recognize you,” the guard said, “and I thought I knew everybody on the force.”

“I’m new. I’m here to support Lizzy, but I was also hoping to ask the prisoner a few questions.”

That word—
prisoner
—seemed harsh, but that was what he was. My father was a prisoner.

“Not that common for a police officer to ask questions of somebody who was convicted a dozen years ago. What’s this investigation about?” he asked.

“It’s not so much an investigation as just some questions that Lizzy needs answered,” David said.

“This can’t be easy. Tell you what. I’m going to show you a little professional courtesy here—you know, prison guard to cop,” the guard said. “I’m going to arrange for a private room for the interview.”

“That’s kind of you,” David said.

“Just respect my badge if I get pulled over for speeding some time,” the guard said.

“As far as I’m concerned, you and your buddies can drag race down Princess Street and I’ll look the other way.”

“I might just hold you to it. You know, Gord is a pretty straight shooter. No problems, no hassles, no headaches. He’s doing hard time but not giving anybody a hard time.”

“I really appreciate that,” David said. “We both do.”

“Yes, thank you so much,” I said.

“There will be a guard present, and you will be expected not to make any contact. The same rules apply,” the guard said.

“We understand,” I said. “And thank you.”

We sat and waited. The room wasn’t very big, with four chairs, two on each side of a large wooden table, concrete walls painted green, the paint peeling off in places, and a high ceiling soaring above us. The place felt cold and damp, which might have explained the peeling paint and the goose bumps on my arms.

David reached over and took my hand, intertwining my fingers with his. The room was suddenly warmer. I was about to speak when the door opened—it was my father, followed by a guard. My father smiled at me and then looked at David before setting his gaze on me again.

“I’m so glad to see you, Lizzy,” he said. “Who is this?”

David got up and reached out his hand. “I’m David—”

“No contact!” the guard snapped.

David drew back his hand. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He sat back down.

“David is my friend,” I said.

“Hello, sir,” David said.

“Are you my daughter’s boyfriend?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about my daughter dating a cop.”

The guards must have told him about David.

“How did you know I’m a police officer?” David asked.

“I can pick out a cop from across the room,” my father said. “You all look pretty much the same.”

“I guess you could say the same thing about prisoners,” David said. “Doesn’t mean that some of them can’t be different.”

“I don’t have the time or energy to find out. Why don’t you wait outside so me and my daughter can visit?”

“I want him here,” I said. “Besides, David has some questions for you.”

“I thought the father was supposed to be asking the questions,” he said. “Why should I talk to you at all?”

“Because I asked him to be here, because maybe he can help,” I said.

“I’ve never had a cop help me, so I’m not sure why that would happen now.”

“Maybe he can help you, but I need his help too. Please, could you answer his questions?”

He didn’t respond right away, and I was worried about what he was going to say—or do. Was he going to walk away? Was my second visit going to be my last?

“I guess it depends on what sort of questions,” he said.

“I have some questions about the crime and the conviction,” David said.

“There’s not much point in talking about any of that. It’s not like it’s going to change anything.”

“Lizzy told me you said you were innocent,” David said.

“I
am
innocent.”

“I was going through the case records—”

“They’re reopening the investigation?” he asked.

“No, I was going through them myself,” David said.

My father laughed. “Is that so you could impress my daughter, to show her what a big important man you are?”

“It isn’t that—” I started to say.

“That was part of it in the beginning,” David said, surprising me. “But that’s not why I’m here. Your alibi was some friends at a bar. Were any of them called as witnesses at the trial?”

“Four of them. They all confirmed I was there with them in the hours around the time of the murder.”

“Four witnesses certainly sounds like a pretty good defense,” David said.

“I had practically no defense. My lawyer was useless. He just sat there while the four of them were made out to be a bunch of rounders, too drunk to remember and willing to lie to protect me.”

“And were they?” David asked.

“They were in a bar, so of course they were drinking, and maybe they weren’t the best people in the city,” my father said, “but they were telling the truth, and my lawyer allowed the Crown to convince the jury differently. I wonder if he was paid to throw the case.”

“Do you still have contact with any of the witnesses?” David asked.

“Regular contact with one of them. He’s inside, one cell block over. If he wasn’t believable before he certainly isn’t now.”

“And the others?”

“I have no idea what happened to them or where they are, although I suspect they didn’t go too far,” he said. “They were all born and raised in Kingston and probably didn’t go much farther away than I did.”

“What if I go through the case files, try to find their last addresses as well as their names and try to re-interview them? See what they remember.”

“None of that will do any good. The court didn’t believe them then and it’s not going to believe them now.”

“But I might,” David said. “Besides, what have you got to lose?”

“Not much. But why are you doing any of this?” my father asked.

“I’m just looking for the truth for Lizzy’s sake,” David said. “Some things don’t make sense.”

“Like what?” my father asked.

“Like why would you wipe the fingerprints off the handle of the hammer but not the blood? Why didn’t you throw it away?” I asked.

“That’s the sort of question I thought other people should have asked,” he said. “You’re starting to believe me, aren’t you?”

“All I believe is that I need answers,” I said. I could tell by his expression that I’d surprised him with my boldness. I’d surprised myself.

“Then I’ll give them to you. I never saw that hammer until it showed up as an exhibit in court. Somebody put that hammer there, planted evidence, set me up,” he said.

“It all sounds suspicious, but who would want to set you up?” David asked.

“Obviously, the same person who did the killing. Who else would have had the hammer? He wanted the crime put on my head to protect himself.”

“But who would want to kill her?” David asked.

“I’ve spent over thirteen years thinking about that, and I haven’t been able to come up with an answer that makes sense. Nobody wanted her dead.” He turned to me. “Your mother was the kindest person I knew. She had no enemies. Everybody loved her; she trusted everybody, maybe too much.”

“What does that mean?” David asked, saying exactly what I was thinking.

“Do you know why I’m here?” my father asked.

“You were convicted of murder,” David said.

“Funny. Half the people in the clink are here either because they didn’t have the money and connections to get off or they got in the way of people with money and connections. Your mother trusted some people she shouldn’t have.”

That was exactly what Mrs. Remington had said about my mother trusting my father.

“Are you talking about specific people or just some sort of conspiracy of the rich against the poor?” David asked.

“Very specific and very rich. They control the city. The people she worked for,” he said.

“The Remingtons?” I asked.

“Yeah, you’ve obviously heard of them.”

“I live at their mansion. I’m a maid there, like my mother was.”

His expression changed to complete shock, then fear. “No…no, you can’t be there. You have to get away from them!” His voice got louder with each word. The guard who was sitting in the corner rose to his feet. “All she wanted was to get away from there.”

“Why did she leave, why did we move away?” I asked.

“She was desperate to get out of that house.”

“But why?”

He shook his head. “She wouldn’t tell me. I think she didn’t want to tell me because of how I might react, but I know she was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” David asked.

“I don’t know, but I have an idea. That son, that strange one—I think it was him.”

“But everybody told me that Richie was more upset than anybody about her leaving,” I said.

“She wouldn’t tell me, but I think it was the way he was acting that made her want to leave. I don’t know what kind of different he is, but he’s definitely different,” my father said.

BOOK: Innocent
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Dead Trouble by Jake Douglas
Not Quite Married by Lorhainne Eckhart
Surrender Your Grace by Maddie Taylor
The Flower Net by Lisa See
Tea by Laura Martin
Sleepover Sleuths by Carolyn Keene
DoingLogan by Rhian Cahill