Read Online Guilty as Sin by Joseph Teller - Free Book Online

he’d done the favor for, put him on the witness stand and have him corroborate the fact. It might not add up to a legal defense, but it might win some sympathy points with a jury. And from there, who knew? Stranger things had happened.
    So Jaywalker put on his investigator’s hat and spent the next three days trying to find Clarence Hightower.
    And struck out.
    The address listed on the court papers turned out to be a nonexistent one. Ditto the one Hightower had given the Department of Corrections at Rikers Island. Jaywalker tried the phone book, the unlisted directory, Social Security, Internal Revenue, the Motor Vehicle Bureau, the Department of Social Services. He even checked to see if by any chance Hightower had applied for a barber’s license, as Barnett had tried to do. He hadn’t. As a last resort, using a public phone, Jaywalker called the Division of Parole up in Albany.
    â€œThis is Detective Kelly,” he told the woman who answered. “Manhattan North Homicide Squad, shield 5620.”
    â€œWhat can I do for you, Detective?”
    So far, so good.
    â€œI need to know who’s supervising a particular parolee,” he explained, furnishing her Hightower’s full name and NYSIS number, which he’d made a point of copying down from the court papers.
    â€œHold, please.”
    It took a few minutes, during which Jaywalker kept an eye out. He knew all about call tracing and GPS technology, and he didn’t want any real cops sneaking up on him and arresting him for criminal impersonation of a police officer. A felony was the last thing he needed on his record.
    But no cops sneaked up.
    â€œThat supervision has been terminated,” the woman told him.
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œDecember 12 of 1985. Last year.”
    Which struck Jaywalker as a bit strange. Hadn’t Barnett told him that Hightower had been doing ten-to-twenty at Green Haven? Released in 1984, he would have still owed the state four or five years, at a minimum.
    â€œCan you give me the name of the last PO who supervised him?” Jaywalker asked.
    â€œI’m not supposed to,” she told him. “Not on a closed case.”
    â€œLook,” said Jaywalker gently, but not too gently. “I’ve got two dead kids I’m working on here, a four-year-old and a one-year-old. Both of them mutilated.” Hey, if you were going to lie, might as well make it a big one.
    â€œAnunziatta,” she told him. “Ralph Anunziatta.”
    â€œGot a phone number, by any chance?”
    â€œTry 212-555-2138.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œI hope you find the perp. And, Detective?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œThis conversation never happened.”
    Which was just fine with Jaywalker.
    Â 
    Not that Ralph Anunziatta turned out to be all that much help. “Yeah,” he said, “I remember the guy. Sorta. I wanted to revoke him, but before I could do anything about it, they’d let him cop out to a disorderly conduct. Not even a crime. So the most I could do was to write him up for a technical violation and continue him on parole. Then, next thing I know, someone upstairs cuts him loose, fuckin’ terminates him.”
    â€œIsn’t that unusual?”
    â€œA little,” acknowledged Anunziatta. “But they say they gotta cut the numbers. Anyway, one less case for me.”
    Â 
    What had been one less case for Parole Officer Anunziatta was the source of one more concern for defense lawyer Jaywalker. His wife caught him staring off into space that evening at the dinner table. Not that Jaywalker was any stranger to staring off into space. But his wife had an uncanny way of knowing just how many galaxies away he was at any particular moment and asked him what the problem was.
    â€œI don’t know,” he said. “I’m representing this guy on a drug sale—several sales, in fact. And I don’t know, I’ve just got a funny