Page 74 of A Winter of Discontent for Henry Milch
“I hope you understand, if you dare charge my client I’ll make sure you regret it every day for the rest of your life,” anger-man said. It surprised me that he’d waited until they opened the door to threaten Detective Lehmann.
Though, glancing at the detective’s face suggested there many have been quite a few threats issued during the interview.
“Come along, Brian.”
As they began to leave, anger-man gave Bernie a nasty look and then stopped in front of me saying, “You’re Henry Milch.”
“Yeah.” I did not want to talk to this guy.
He looked me up and down. Seriously, not an expression. He looked at my feet and then took in every inch of me all the way up to the top of my head. Then he said, “Jesus Christ,” and walked away.
After a moment, I asked, “What was that?”
“My father. Bernard Schaub,” Bernie said.
“You have my deepest sympathy.”
Without acknowledging me, Bernie shifted gears and said, “Rudy, you need to release my client immediately. You’ve had another confession. If you’re not holding him, you can’t hold her.”
Lehmann rolled his eyes, and said, “Gimme five minutes. I need to do some paperwork.”
Once he was gone, Patty asked, “Is that it? Is it over?”
“Not exactly,” Bernie said. “You’re going to need to watch your step. Lehmann is going to be going through your phone records, your bank records, everything he can think of looking for some kind of evidence that the two of you conspired to kill Bobbie LaCross.”
“He won’t find it. It was just me.”
There was the tiniest pause and then Opal rushed in with, “Dude, you really need to change that baby’s diaper.”
I hurried off to the restroom. Honestly, the introduction of actual food to Emerald’s diet had not helped things in the diaper department. While I was trying not to think about what I was seeing—and smelling—I wondered what was really going on here. Had Patty and Brian colluded to avenge his father’s death? Was it right for them to get away with it?
Certainly, what Bobbie did was terrible, but she hadn’t meant for it to result in Russell Belcher’s death. Then I wondered if that was negligent homicide or involuntary manslaughter. Should Brian have simply turned her in? Would that have worked? They probably couldn’t prove Bobbie took the box of meds. I mean, I could prove it now—her fingerprints were probably on the shoebox. And even if they’d been able to prove it, would it have stood up?
I wondered what motive Brian had given in his confession. Had he explained about the drugs to Detective Lehmann? Would being able to prove that help or hurt the case against him? Itmight make a jury sympathetic. It made me sympathetic. You never stoleallof someone’s meds. That was not a good idea.
I finished up the diaper change, washed my hands, and went back into the sheriff’s office. Detective Lehmann was standing with Bernie and Patty. Opal sat at a desk ten feet away. I walked over as Bernie was saying, “So you’ve no evidence aside from my client’s coerced confession?”
“Not coerced?—”
“I assume you had forensics go over the RV Ms. LaCross was living in. Did you find my clients fingerprints?”
“No.”
“Did you find anyone’s fingerprints other than the deceased?”
“We haven’t identified all the fingerprints we found.”
“Which one’s have you identified?”
“Well, only Buford Campbell. But he owns the RV, so it’s not unusual to find those.”
Bernie considered the detective for a moment, then said,
“Thank you, Rudy. Should you have any questions for my client please don’t contact her directly. Contact me and we’ll set up a time to meet.”
Lehmann grinned like a pit bull baring its teeth. Then, spinning on a heel, he turned and went into his office. I followed him in, stopping the door before it shut, then closing it behind me. Emerald was pulling on my hair, which hurt, but I ignored it.
From behind his desk, Lehmann said, “I’m going to need a statement from you.”
