Read Online Head Wounds by Chris Knopf - Free Book Online

vodka-filled aluminum tumbler and my dog. She waited while I stoked the woodstove and got settled in.
    “So?” I asked.
    “You’re about to be arrested for homicide,” she said, then sat back in her chair as if that was the beginning and end of the conversation.
    I took a long, deep breath, loosening my shoulders and slackening my jaw. An old trick I taught myself when I was in R&D, following similar shocks to the system.
    “What a load of crap,” I said.
    “Oh, it’s a load, all right. Tons and tons of it about to land on your head.”
    “How do you know?”
    “Ross called me to offer a volunteer surrender. No flashing lights, no cuffs, no perp walk. I just bring you in. Out of courtesy to Sullivan, not to you.”
    “Why now?”
    “They have all the forensics back from the labs. It’s not good. I am still your lawyer, aren’t I? Even though you’ve only paid me a buck so far and I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
    Jackie held the bowl of her wine glass in two hands as if it was a steaming cup of coffee. I slid the grate on the front of the woodstove further open to stoke the flame.
    “That buck was a retainer. Now the real money kicks in.”
    “I’ve already talked to Burton,” she said. “He wants me to lead and let him work the back channels. And consult, of course.”
    “It’s not going to get that far. I didn’t do anything.”
    “Where do you want me to start?” she asked, rhetorically. “It was your stapler, with your fingerprints on it and the bar code still intact. Your footprints out on the beach directly facing where they pulled the stapler out of the dune grass. Your fistfight with Milhouser, witnessed by at least three people. Your physical appearance, as described by the witness who saw the jogger heading toward Robbie’s project the night of the homicide. To say nothing of your history of violence, criminal record and antisocial behavior.”
    “You’re wrong there. I can be sociable. Ask Hodges.”
    “This isn’t funny, Sam. This one’s serious.”
    I brought my tumbler over to a spot in front of the big windows where I could stand to look out at the bay. It was too dark to see much of anything. There might have been a moon, but it was overcast. The lights on the other shore were little smudges, diffused by the mists that blew across the water. It was hard to believe that it would ever be warm again. That I’d be able to look out at this time of the evening and see the sun as it set, and watch the wavelets rushing off toward the northeast under the urging of the prevailing summer winds—warm, humid southwesterlies displacing the nasty bite from the north.
    “Not according to Ross. Everything I say is funny to him.”
    I heard her sigh, but she pressed on.
    “There’s good news. In context, at least. Burton’s already agreed to post bail. Could be a million-dollar bond, maybe less if we get lucky with the judge. The prosecutor’s likely to try for remand, which your voluntary surrender will undermine. Which is why I worked it out with Ross, who doesn’t want a little homicide charge to get in the way of common courtesy. So I think I can keep you out of jail while they prepare the indictment.”
    I turned toward her.
    “I didn’t want Burton to do that.”
    “I know. That’s why I worked it out in advance. It’s a fait accompli. My advice, as your lawyer, is to shut up and take it, and take a moment to thank God that one of the few people in the world you haven’t alienated is Burton Lewis.”
    I went back to looking at the bay. Jackie kept talking.
    “You still have to go in tomorrow to get processed. Early, so there’s time for them to check for priors and get your prints up to Albany and back, and still have the arraignment later in the day. If everyone stays with the plan you’ll never see any jail time and we’ll be able to hunker down on the case.”
    “I’ve got stuff to do for Frank.”
    “And you’ve got to help me save your damn life. Whether