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Authors: Scott Turow

Tags: #Psychological, #Legal, #Fiction

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BOOK: Reversible Errors
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"The Bible has it right."

"The Bible? Is that what you're thinking about, Arthur?"

U|
>>

i am.

She closed her eyes. It would be terrible if this moment turned to homily or cant.

"I am. I'm thinking about that phrase. 'He knew her.' "

"It's from the Greek."

"Is it? It's right. Isn't it?"

"Do you know me, Arthur?"

"Something, yes. Something essential."

She considered the notion and dismissed it as preposterous. No one knew her. She didn't know herself.

"What do you know about me?" she asked.

"I know you've suffered your whole life, just like I have. I know that you're sick of going it alone. Is that right?"

"I have no idea," she said.

4Tou want the respect you're entitled to," he said. "You need that."

She sat up. The conversation was making her uncomfortable.

"Don't think." She kissed him. "Can you do this again?"

"I have great reserves," he answered. "A lifetime."

"I want to do this again."

When they were done, she went to Arthur's small bathroom. This time for her had been far better. Sensation rippled through her enormously whenever he moved. She had made sounds, cried out, and a spectacular wave of feeling had engulfed her at last, a quaking, serial orgasm that belonged on the Richter scale. She rocked there at th
e h
eight of it, like a nest in the top of a tree, beyond breath or time, not wanting to let it go and letting go only because she knew she would pass out shortly if she didn't.

The echoes of pleasure had left such tremors in her legs that she was unsure how long she could stand. He was such a simple man, she thought, looking about. His car was from Beverly Hills, but his bathroom belonged in a tenement. The sink rode on chrome legs. Long ago, someone had fixed a frilled skirt over the toilet tank and a shag cover on the seat, and she sat on that, again remembering her pleasure. When she went back in memory this time, she began to weep. She was shocked -shocked by the emotion that ripped through her and the phrase that rose to her lips.

She howled. She threw both hands over her mouth, but she could not stop. In time, Arthur overheard her, knocked repeatedly, and finally forced his way in. Naked, still, she sat looking up at him.

"I wanted it so badly," she said to him, as she had been saying to herself. She had no idea what 'it' was exactly, but surely not the creature act. The relief of momentary pleasure in a miserable world? Respect, as he'd said? Or merely connection, loving connection? The fury of this unnamed desire, which had lain obscured by debris inside her like some archaeological treasure, stunned her. Oh, how she had wanted it!

She sat there crying, crying for all the world, saying again and again that she wanted it so badly. Arthur knelt beside her on the cold tiles of the bathroom and held her, saying, "You have it now, you have it."
26

JUNE 28, 2001

Smart

"oh my god!" As soon as the brass elevator doors had met, reuniting the leafy Deco designs embossed there and leaving Arthur Raven safely behind, Muriel clapped her hand to her chest and sagged against Larry, planting her narrow shoulder on his arm. "When did you know?"

"Before Arthur." Larry shook his head in pity. He still liked Arthur, especially now that they'd kicked his fanny. Upstairs, outside the Sterns' offices, with the air between the three of them brittle as glass, Arthur looked as if he might faint, as if his heavy briefcase might drag him to the floor. "Talk about the poster child for the pale and clammy. I thought of dialing 911. Where does he go now?"

"Probably to Rudyard to read out his client-or to County to do the same thing to Erno, assuming he's still alive. I heard he took a turn for the worse."

Larry made a sarcastic remark about Erno's well-being, then aske
d w
hat he'd meant to originally, whether Arthur had really run out of options in court. Muriel shrugged. For the moment, she seemed far more interested in hearing how he'd figured out it was Rommy who'd threatened Luisa.

"I just kept asking myself, What's this lady's story?" Larry said. "Genevieve's good people. Usually a better-than-average person has got to have a decent reason to stiff the truth. The way I read her, she figures Luisa's dead, can't change that, let's do the best for the daughters. And that means keeping the lid on the real story-not just because TN may turn the dogs loose, but because it spreads fertilizer all over Mommy's grave. Once you say Rommy was the one threatening Luisa, you have to say why. The whole world hears about the tickets now, including Luisa's girls."

They emerged into the brighter lobby. Muriel was tanned to a summer glow, but Larry could see that she'd also been lit by victory. In her happy moments, when she was relaxed, Muriel was the funniest girl in the world. And she was happy now, especially with him.

"You're the man, Larry." She beamed up at him, revealing that little gap between her front teeth. He wished with all his might this declaration didn't excite him, as it did. Probably if Muriel and he had worked it out ten years ago, they'd be the Bickersons by now, like every other old couple. But you always wanted what you didn't get, and since his meltdown in Atlanta, he'd been coming to terms: he wasn't getting over Muriel, not in this lifetime.

His thoughts of her were always attached to the idea of destiny. She was in every fiber a person who believed there was a Plan, one she intended to be part of, and in her company he was inevitably under the same spell. What he had lost most, when he lost her, was the belief that great things were in store for him.

It was raining hard, but Muriel managed to flag a taxi. Larry had left his stuff in her office and jumped in beside her. On the way Muriel asked his opinion about who in the press to give this to. She still had time for the TV news. On her cell, she called Stanley Rosenberg at Channel 5. Then she phoned Dubinsky at the Tribune. "Stew? I have tomorrow's headline today. 'Witness: Gandolph Said He Would Kill July 4 Victim.' "

Chapter
26

june 28, 2001

Smart

"oh my god!" As soon as the brass elevator doors had met, reuniting the leafy Deco designs embossed there and leaving Arthur Raven safely behind, Muriel clapped her hand to her chest and sagged against Larry, planting her narrow shoulder on his arm. "When did you know?"

"Before Arthur." Larry shook his head in pity. He still liked Arthur, especially now that they'd kicked his fanny. Upstairs, outside the Sterns' offices, with the air between the three of them brittle as glass, Arthur looked as if he might faint, as if his heavy briefcase might drag him to the floor. "Talk about the poster child for the pale and clammy. I thought of dialing 911. Where does he go now?"

"Probably to Rudyard to read out his client-or to County to do the same thing to Erno, assuming he's still alive. I heard he took a turn for the worse."

Larry made a sarcastic remark about Erno's well-being, then aske
d w
hat he'd meant to originally, whether Arthur had really run out of options in court. Muriel shrugged. For the moment, she seemed far more interested in hearing how he'd figured out it was Rommy who'd threatened Luisa.

"I just kept asking myself, What's this lady's story?" Larry said. "Genevieve's good people. Usually a better-than-average person has got to have a decent reason to stiff the truth. The way I read her, she figures Luisa's dead, can't change that, let's do the best for the daughters. And that means keeping the lid on the real story-not just because TN may turn the dogs loose, but because it spreads fertilizer all over Mommy's grave. Once you say Rommy was the one threatening Luisa, you have to say why. The whole world hears about the tickets now, including Luisa's girls."

They emerged into the brighter lobby. Muriel was tanned to a summer glow, but Larry could see that she'd also been lit by victory. In her happy moments, when she was relaxed, Muriel was the funniest girl in the world. And she was happy now, especially with him.

"You're the man, Larry." She beamed up at him, revealing that little gap between her front teeth. He wished with all his might this declaration didn't excite him, as it did. Probably if Muriel and he had worked it out ten years ago, they'd be the Bickersons by now, like every other old couple. But you always wanted what you didn't get, and since his meltdown in Atlanta, he'd been coming to terms: he wasn't getting over Muriel, not in this lifetime.

His thoughts of her were always attached to the idea of destiny. She was in every fiber a person who believed there was a Plan, one she intended to be part of, and in her company he was inevitably under the same spell. What he had lost most, when he lost her, was the belief that great things were in store for him.

It was raining hard, but Muriel managed to flag a taxi. Larry had left his stuff in her office and jumped in beside her. On the way Muriel asked his opinion about who in the press to give this to. She still had time for the TV news. On her cell, she called Stanley Rosenberg at Channel 5. Then she phoned Dubinsky at the Tribune. "Stew? I have tomorrow's headline today 'Witness: Gandolph Said He Would Kill July 4 Victim.' "

Larry felt less exuberant. Being around Muriel probably dampened his mood. But he'd shoved aside a lot of questions during the dep that were bothering him now. First off, he had to be dumber than a box of hair not to tumble to a ticket agent stealing tickets. Then he remembered what had misled him.

"You know," he said, as soon as Muriel was free, "I've gone over my notes of my conversation with Erno back in October '91 probably a hundred times. Two hundred. And when I asked him how Luisa was minting money, he brought up the subject of stolen tickets and said they hadn't had any problems for years."

"Maybe he didn't know what she was doing. The stuff Genevieve heard from Squirrel -I saw Pharaoh and I'm going to kill her-that might just sound to Erno like Luisa had been stepping out on him."

"On Rommy? And besides, why would Erno have Luisa searched, if he didn't know about the tickets?"

Muriel was too high to worry, but he persisted.

"Okay, and here's another thing. I've got it in my notes that Erno told me we ought to subpoena Genevieve to the grand jury."

"Thinking she'd put it on Rommy?"

"Obviously. But why so coy? Why not say straight up Genevieve could tell me Squirrel had threatened to kill Luisa, instead of playing dumb?"

The rain was nearly solid when they left the taxi. Muriel held her briefcase over her head, her heels smacking up little spurts on the granite steps of the Kindle County Building. The structure was a century old, a red-brick block built in the same style as the gloomy factories of that era. Even in good weather, the interior light had the quality of old shellac. Muriel was royalty inside this building. The bailiffs at the metal detectors greeted her as 'Chief,' and passing through the lobby she was accosted every ten feet by somebody else. Two deputy P
. A
.'s, interviewing a nine-year-old in connection with the murder of another child, chased after her, seeking permission to cut a deal. She told them it was too soon, then moved on to happier tasks, greeting at least a dozen people by name. She was far more natural at this kind of politicking than he would have imagined ten years ago, looking genuinely eager to hear about grandma's progress after a hi
p r
eplacement, or how the third-grader was doing in her new school. Only those who knew Muriel best might recognize it was a one-way street, that she seldom shared much about herself.

Larry went ahead to wait for her by the elevator bank, still puzzling about Erno.

"Try this," he said to Muriel, without any preamble, when they boarded the car alone. "Erno hears about Squirrel and Luisa from Genevieve. Squirrels a thief, and, like Erno told me, tickets are the best things around there to steal, and Luisa's a ticket agent. So he has her searched on a pretext." "Right."

"But he doesn't find the tickets. So he picks door number two: just some weird screwball with a crush who's talking trash. And instead, six weeks later, she gets offed. So now he can't raise his hand and say I know what this is about."

"Because?"

"Because he fucked up. Because he'd have to admit that he violated the union agreement and had searched her on a pretext. And never bothered informing the cops about Squirrel. Some good plaintiff's lawyer with orphans for clients will choke a fortune out of Erno and the airline, and his bosses will blame Erno for being asleep at the wheel.

"But then his handsome nephew gets cracked, and Erno thinks it over again, because he really wants to save Collins. I don't know which of them found out Squirrel had the cameo, if Collins came up with that or Erno had been gumshoeing around on his own and fed it to Collins, but either way, Erno deals it out to me in pieces to make sure he doesn't get any shit on his shoes. 'Go talk to Collins. And by the way, subpoena Genevieve.' It sort of fits, doesn't it?"

They had entered the vast outer office of the RA. and the Chief Deputy. Muriel stopped at one of the secretarial stations to pick up messages and an armful of mail. In her office, she closed the door and had him play the whole thing back one more time.

"It was the truth," concluded Larry. "What Erno was telling us way back when. It was always the truth. He's just burned now because he helped us out and he's still dying in prison."

BOOK: Reversible Errors
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