Page 20 of Memory of Murder
The double doors opened as they approached. A woman, middle aged, well dressed, waited just inside.
“This way please.” She gestured to the grand foyer.
Once they were across the threshold, the woman closed the doors, then led the way across the marble-floored foyer. The ceiling towered at least three stories, rising to the very top of the turret that fronted the mansion. They crossed under theupstairs landing that was flanked on either side by a stone staircase.
Jack had expected they would be ushered to a parlor of some sort, but instead the next set of double doors the woman opened revealed a library as large as the one in his hometown. The walls were lined with book-filled shelves. The flow was interrupted only by a large arched window on the opposite side from the doors, ensuring an inspiring view of the rear gardens. Near the window was a seating area, with a sofa and a couple of chairs surrounding a table.
A woman, her back turned, waited at the window that looked out over the meticulously and lushly cultivated landscape.
When the double doors closed, leaving Jack and Anne standing in the center of the room, the woman at the window turned to them. Eve Redford Langston took a couple of steps toward the seating area. Her attention first rested on Jack. It wasn’t until she paused at the sofa that she shifted her attention to Anne. Her eyes widened. Jack was almost positive he heard a sharp intake of breath.
Eve gestured to the two upholstered chairs. “Sit. Please.”
She lowered onto the sofa, her gaze tracking their movements toward the chairs.
When they were seated, she turned to Anne. “It’s amazing how much you look like your mother.”
IN THE PASTAnne would have stiffened if anyone had made such a remark to her, but somehow in the past few hours she had come to terms with many things. Her resemblance to her mother was one of them. It almost felt like a compliment.
“Thank you.” She gazed steadily at the former best friend of Mary’s. “And thank you for seeing us. Jack and I have a great deal of research to do.”
The older woman’s lips twitched in what might’ve been construed as a smile, but the effort was vague and lackluster.
“I assume the two of you are looking into your mother’s history—at least, that’s what I’ve heard. If that’s the case, I’m happy to help any way I can.”
Well, well. It seemed the kindly Judith had put the word out. Good. Anne had hoped she would. At the same time, Anne was a little disappointed. The woman had claimed to be a friend of her mother’s. Apparently that loyalty only went as far as the senator’s address. Anne wondered if Jack had assumed or hoped for the same.
“We’d like to hear about the days and weeks leading up to the murder.” Jack launched into the questions. “I’ve read the statements from the investigation, and they seem a tad incomplete.”
“Incomplete?” Eve eyed him speculatively. “How so?”
“According to what we know, you, Mary Morton and Carin Carter Wallace spent a good deal of time together. You had been friends for many years at the time of the murder.”
Eve made a single nod. “That’s correct. You should have read as much in my statement.”
“We did.” Anne waded in. “My question is given the fact that you and Mary were so close, didn’t you suspect or sense something was wrong—wrong enough to result in murder?”
The silence that followed echoed in the room like the nothingness that trailed a sonic blast.
Eve smiled then, something more than a mere twitch. She appeared to find the question amusing. “The detective asked me this as well.”
“Your answer,” Jack inserted, “was not documented in the file. There was some vague mention of you being out of town.”
This time she actually laughed. The sound was dry, half-hearted. “Detective Jones was young. Only a few years olderthan we were at the time. I’m not sure he had a clue what he was doing.”
“Jack said the same thing,” Anne pointed out. “It’s insane that not a single appeal was granted considering the incompetent investigation and the subpar legal counsel Mary received.”
Eve lifted her chin ever so slightly. “If that’s how you feel, have you looked into what avenues you have to rectify those shortfalls? I can’t imagine the city would want to enter into any sort of civil litigation. A settlement would likely be far more appealing.”
Was the woman subtlety offering a payoff to shut Anne down? She didn’t have to say the words outright. Anne saw it in her eyes—the anticipation. The offer was loud and clear. “So you agree there was negligence involved. Mary’s conviction may have been a miscarriage of justice.”
“Sadly, I don’t agree.” Eve sighed, crossed her hands on her lap. “As difficult as it was to believe in the beginning, I long ago faced the reality that Mary must have killed Neil. It was the only logical answer. Was the murder investigated as it should have been? Unquestionably not. Did she receive proper legal representation? Probably not. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t guilty. If you’re looking to clear her name, I must warn you that you will be gravely disappointed. You’re far more likely to prove she wasn’t properly represented by counsel.”
Startled by the woman’s certainty, Anne held up a hand. “I’m not looking to do anything but find the truth. That’s why I need your help. You were her best friend, after all.”
A standoff of sorts passed between them. Eve broke first.
“As your friend pointed out—” she gestured to Jack “—I was not here in the days that led up to the murder. Mary was busy with wedding plans and with her pregnancy. We didn’t spend a lot of time together those final weeks.”
