The Burning Soul (37 page)

Read The Burning Soul Online

Authors: John Connolly

Tags: #Mystery, #Azizex666, #Horror, #Fantasy, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: The Burning Soul
10.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
‘He was as good as could be expected, and they let him talk. The next part will be more difficult for him.’
‘I know.’
Despite all her warnings, Aimee knew that we would have to expose Haight to a certain amount of aggressive questioning. It was like cleansing a wound: It was better to get it done all at once than in small painful increments.
Haight returned.
‘How did I do?’ he asked.
‘You did fine, Randall,’ said Aimee. ‘We both thought so.’
He was relieved, and not only because we felt that the first part of the interview had gone well. He had something of the spiritual lightness of a penitent who has recently unburdened himself of his sins and been absolved. He had told his story and no one had reacted with obvious disgust or anger. He was not cuffed, and he had not been pilloried. He had confronted that which he most feared, and he had survived thus far.
‘The FBI man, Mr. Engel, was in the restroom when I went in,’ said Haight.
‘Did he speak to you?’ I asked.
‘No, he just nodded. I couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t seem very interested in what I was saying.’ Haight sounded mildly offended.
‘Maybe you weren’t what he was expecting,’ said Aimee.
‘But what was he expecting?’ asked Haight, and I raised my hand gently at Aimee in warning. This was not an area that we needed to explore with the client; not yet, not until the next stage of the interview process had been concluded, but Haight wasn’t a fool. He sensed that there was a disparity between what we knew and what he was being told.
We were saved by a knock on the door. Aimee’s assistant stuck his head in to say that they were ready for us.
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ I told Haight. ‘I promise that it doesn’t involve you, and it won’t affect anything that’s said in the next room, or any question that is put to you. When we’re done, we’ll take time to go over any other relevant details, okay?’
Haight had little choice but to agree. He had come this far, and although he could have sat in Aimee’s office and refused to come out until we’d told him everything, including the truth about UFOs and who had killed Kennedy, he didn’t, largely because Aimee and I kept him moving, and by the time we were back in the meeting room it was too late for him to do anything but sit back down in his chair and wait for the questions to come.
Walsh handled the next stage. He was careful, and consistent, and studiedly neutral at the start. He went back over Haight’s story, asking many of the same questions that Aimee and I had asked of him. He clarified Haight’s movements in the years since his release and touched on the subject of Lonny Midas.
‘You have no knowledge of Lonny Midas’s current whereabouts?’ said Walsh.
‘He’s not called that anymore,’ said Haight. ‘Lonny Midas doesn’t exist, just like William Lagenheimer doesn’t exist. They gave both of us new identities so that we couldn’t contact each other even if we wanted to.’
‘So you have no reason to think that Lonny Midas might have found you?’
‘None.’
‘Were you frightened of him, Mr. Haight?’
‘A little.’
‘Are you still frightened of him now?’
Haight began tugging at a loose piece of fingernail. I could see him doing it from where I sat. He pulled so hard that I saw him wince at the pain he was inflicting on himself.
‘William Lagenheimer was,’ said Haight, ‘but Randall Haight isn’t. Do you understand the distinction, Detective? That’s why I didn’t want to come here today. I wanted to stay hidden. Nobody could find me as long as I stayed hidden.’
‘But someone
has
found you, Mr. Haight. Someone knows who you are. The damage has been done now.’
‘Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right.’
‘Do you have any idea who this person might be?’
‘No.’
‘Could it be Lonny Midas?’
Haight just shook his head, but his reply didn’t match the movement. ‘Lonny always bore grudges,’ he said. ‘Lonny never forgave anyone who did him a bad turn.’
‘And he bears a grudge against William Lagenheimer, because William told the cops what was done to Selina Day?’
‘I think Lonny probably hates William. He probably hates him more now than he did on the day that he told. Lonny was a brooder.’
‘Could Lonny have taken Anna Kore to frame you?’
‘Yes,’ said Haight softly. ‘That’s the kind of thing Lonny would do.’
Walsh let the subject go. He moved on to routine questions, most little more than clarifications. Haight answered them easily, and I felt him start to relax again. He grew more loquacious in his replies, giving Walsh more than was necessary to answer the questions. Walsh even cracked a small joke, something about accountancy training and jailhouse lawyers, and Haight smiled in return. Everybody was getting along just dandily. I caught Aimee’s eye and shook my head, and she interrupted Walsh’s next question.
‘I’m sorry, Detective, I just need a quick moment with my client.’
Walsh wasn’t happy about it, but he couldn’t object. Instead he contented himself with giving me the hard stare. I knew what he’d been doing and now he’d been caught. This was a version of ‘good cop-bad cop’ with Walsh about to slip from the first role into the second.
Aimee murmured in Haight’s ear. As she spoke to him, he glanced at Walsh, and his face assumed an expression of hurt. When the interview resumed, he was noticeably more restrained in his mode of answering.
‘Tell me about Anna Kore,’ said Walsh. ‘Did you know her?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘But you’d seen her around town? After all, Pastor’s Bay is a small place. Everybody knows everybody, right?’
‘I guess I’d seen her around.’
‘Did you know her by name?’
‘No, I’d never spoken to her.’
‘That wasn’t what I asked. Did you know her by name?’
‘Well, sure. As you said, Pastor’s Bay is a small town.’
‘So you did know her?’
Haight was flustered. ‘Yes. Well, no, not in the way you mean.’
‘What way do I mean?’
Aimee intervened.
‘Detective, let me remind you that this is not an interrogation. Mr. Haight is here of his own free will. He has provided information that may prove to be of assistance in your investigation, and he is himself the victim of a particularly insidious form of intimidation. Let’s not add to it, okay.’
Walsh raised his hands in mock surrender and resumed his questioning.
‘Had you met Anna Kore’s mother?’ he asked.
‘Yes. She came to a couple of meetings of the town council earlier this year. She wanted to talk about trees.’
‘Trees?’
‘The trees growing on Bay Road. There was a storm, and some pretty big branches came down. She was concerned about the safety of her daughter and her property.’
‘That sounds like a pretty minor matter.’
‘Not if you’re hit by a falling tree,’ said Haight, not unreasonably.
‘What I mean is that I’m surprised you remember it so clearly,’ said Walsh. ‘There must be a lot of business discussed at these meetings and yet you have no trouble recalling Valerie Kore’s concerns.’
But Haight was on familiar ground here. ‘I’m an accountant: I spend my life remembering small details. I don’t attend every meeting of the town council because it isn’t necessary for me to do so, but I can certainly give you chapter and verse on any issue that has relevance to the town’s budget: sanitation, tree pruning, fence painting, the replacement of appliances, of vehicles. So, yes, I remember Valerie Kore’s point, but I remember also that Chief Allan had spoken just before her on the subject of acquiring a used Crown Victoria to supplement his motor pool, and at the same meeting Vernon Tuttle wanted to know why his store had been cited for littering when he’d been asking for six months that a permanent trash can be placed on his stretch of Main Street.’
Chief Allan shifted in his seat. So far he had said nothing since we resumed, and he didn’t look as if he was anxious to involve himself now, but by speaking about him Haight had given him little choice.
‘You know, that’s true, Detective,’ he said. ‘Mr. Haight has a hell of a memory for detail.’
Walsh let it go. He returned to Haight’s knowledge of the Kore family, but didn’t get much return on his buck. When Haight told him that he had no alibi for the day of Anna’s disappearance, Walsh perked up some. He was about to pursue the matter further when help came from an unlikely source. Once again Allan moved in his chair, this time with obvious unease. Even Walsh noticed, and looked at him in irritation. Allan indicated that he wanted to speak to him in private and the two policemen consulted quietly for a moment. When they returned to the table Walsh informed us that he was finished with his questions, unless anyone else had something to add. Even Engel appeared surprised enough to rouse himself briefly from his torpor, but said nothing.
We all stood. Walsh gave Aimee a receipt for the sealed bags containing the envelopes, and told Haight that he might need a more detailed statement about them in the coming days. While they spoke, I followed Allan outside, where he was fumbling for one of his cigarettes.
‘Can I ask what that was about?’ I said.
‘Randall Haight has an alibi for the day that Anna Kore disappeared,’ he replied. ‘
I’m
his alibi. I dropped by his place around three that day to deliver some quotes for the vehicle purchase that he mentioned. He was asleep on his couch with a blanket over him, so I decided not to disturb him. I went back shortly before the call came in about Anna Kore and he was still there. He hadn’t even moved. I met him on the street the next day and he had a nose like Rudolph’s. He didn’t take Anna. We would just have been wasting our time in there at the end.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘You don’t have to thank me. It was the truth.’
‘Do you have any opinion on the rest of what he said?’
‘Nope.’ He lit the cigarette and drew long, holding the smoke deep inside, savoring it. ‘Why? You expect me to say that he doesn’t look like the type, that you never can tell? I’m just surprised he managed to keep it quiet for so long. Hard to do in this day and age. Somebody always finds out.’
‘Somebody has found out.’
‘You get anywhere on that?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘I guess Walsh will have those envelopes examined, just in case there’s a connection to Anna. Between the state police and the feds we’ve got twenty-four-hour turnaround on any DNA, so we’ll know soon enough if there’s a trace. We’ll also have to get those records in North Dakota unsealed.’
‘Can you do that?’
‘Sure. That might take a couple of days, but once the formal request for assistance is made they’ll eventually have to share whatever they have with us.’
‘Including Lonny Midas’s new identity?’
‘I guess so.’
I was curious to find out if Lonny Midas had also been targeted. If so, I might yet be proved wrong in my belief that Randall Haight’s tormentor lived in or close to Pastor’s Bay.
‘In the meantime, we’d like to keep what he told you confidential,’ I said.
‘We’ll do our best. We wouldn’t want people getting some fool ideas into their heads about him.’
He leaned back against the wall and pressed a thumb and forefinger into the bridge of his nose.
‘I need to rest up,’ he said. ‘I haven’t had more than a couple of hours’ sleep a night since Anna went missing. I’m going to take a day off tomorrow to pay my bills and recharge my batteries. I’ll still be on call, but it’ll be a respite.’
I left him to finish his cigarette in peace. After all, there were plenty of other people that I could bother, among them Engel, who was waiting for his ride by the front door.
‘Your lack of interest in the proceedings was noted, Special Agent Engel,’ I said. ‘Maybe you were hoping I was going to bring in Whitey Bulger himself.’
He was clearly debating whether talking with me was better than getting wet. He seemed to decide that it was, although not by much.
‘That’s an interesting client you have, Mr. Parker. He’s just not that interesting to me.’
‘Because he wasn’t going to jump for a five-K motion?’
A ‘five-K motion’ referred to section 5K1.1 of the sentencing guidelines, under which a prosecutor could argue for a term shorter than the advised sentence for an offense in return for ‘substantial assistance cooperation’ from the defendant. It was a snitch’s charter, but it was a popular weapon for the prosecution during organized-crime trials, as they so often depended on statements from mobsters who had turned on their own. Engel had been hoping the surprise guest might be someone with a connection to Tommy Morris that could be exploited. He had been disappointed.
‘The only person your client could rat on is himself, and he’s done that,’ said Engel.

Other books

The Hating Game by Talli Roland
Goodnight Mister Tom by Michelle Magorian
Commitment by Healy, Nancy Ann
Big Sky Eyes by Sawyer Belle
Thermopylae by Ernle Bradford
Dead Man's Embers by Mari Strachan
See Jane Score by Rachel Gibson