“Yes and no. The club is on the same side of town as the Wincott Mansion. During the break, he walked south and knocked on your door. The police can time-stamp that from the video. And your house is on the way to the mansion. Plus, his cell phone was powered down the whole time, which the police seem to think is suspicious.”
“Not everyone is glued to their phone twenty-four hours a day.” Then again, I probably haven’t powered down my phone in months.
“He says he always turns his phone off during a gig. But they’re going to argue that he could easily have been at the scene of the crime.”
I think that through. “So... he knocks on my door, and nobody answers. Then he decides to kill Tim. And somehow, he knows exactly where Tim is without using a phone or any other communication. He walks over there and kills him, before going back to play the band’s next set? That isn’t a very convincing storyline.”
“Agreed, unless he had a second phone, which he denies. Then there’s that note, which he couldn’t have written. If they bring murder charges, we’d find a teacher to testify about his dyslexia. I’d also want to dig into the gun a little bit. The police have said where it was dumped, but not when. The club and the sidewalks around it were busy that night. Lots of people around, and they’re still looking to corroborate the gun dump. It’s much more likely that the perp threw it in there the next day, which is why nobody but the tipster saw it. Hell—the tipster could have thrown it in himself.”
“Oh shit.”
“That’s just one of the lines of inquiry I’d try to explore. Did you know Tim had a gun?”
“Nope. Never saw it.”
She hums. “I wonder whether he always carried it in the vehicle, or if he had it the night of his death for a specific reason. Did you ever open the glove box in Tim’s car?”
“Never had a reason to.”
She’s silent for a second. “The police are looking at you as well, right? They’d have to be.”
“Well, yeah. I was the one who found him. And we had just broken up.”
“Recently?”
“A few days before.”
Another silence. “Look, if they actually charge Harrison with murder, I can’t help both of you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re not married. And as Harrison’s lawyer, my job will be to remove suspicion from him any way I can.”
It takes me a second and then it dawns on me with hideous clarity. “So... casting suspicion on me would be your plan?” I let out a nervous laugh.
“You don’t make a great murder suspect.” There’s a smile in her voice. “But I only need reasonable doubt. And the police will think now that you two are working together.”
Shit. “So... I’ll have to hire an additional lawyer for myself?”
“Only if I represent Harrison for Mr. Kovak’s murder. But that probably won’t be necessary.”
“Because you don’t think Harrison did it.”
“Listen carefully,” she says. “It’s not my job to decide if he did or didn’t. It’s my job to make sure that he has a strong defense, and that he can’t be convicted on circumstantial bullshit. And it looks to me like they don’t have a strong case.”
“Okay.”
“But, since you asked, I don’t see him as a dangerous man. Which is why I’m about to make a suggestion you might not like.”
35
Natalie
Her mother doesn’t notice as Natalie hovers at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping on the call with the lawyer.
Who cares if it’s sneaky, childish behavior? It’s the only way she’ll hear the truth.
She knows in her gut that her dad didn’t kill that guy.