Read Online Lincoln Perry 02 - Sorrow's Anthem by Michael Koryta - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Koryta
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gave us the grin again, and we all returned
it. My face was already starting to ache. In my business we
don’t do so much smiling so early in the day. “What’s on your
minds?”
Amy turned in her chair and motioned to me. “It’s really Lincoln’s
show. I’m along for the ride.”
“Well, let me have it,” Gajovich said, still showing us his perfect
teeth. We’d put him in such a good mood that some lucky bastard
was probably going to get a plea bargain this morning.
“Do you know a guy named Ed Gradduk?” I said.
The smile dissipated slowly, ice melting in the sun.
“Ed Gradduk,” I repeated when he didn’t answer.
Gajovich let out a sigh that nearly cleared his desk of paperwork
and leaned back in his chair. “You mean the murderer?”
“I mean the guy who got run over by one of Cleveland’s finest
last night,” I said. “Far as I know, nobody’d convicted him of murder
yet. Or is that not required around here?”
“Getting fired in disgrace didn’t do a whole lot to change your
attitude, did it?” Gajovich said.
“I got fired quite a while ago, and that’s got nothing to do with
why we’re here.” Even as I spoke, I was amazed at how quickly the
tone had changed. I mentioned Gradduk’s name; Gajovich and I
were adversaries. That fast, that simple.
He looked at Amy. “You know, I would have appreciated it if
you’d given me an idea of what to expect here.”
She spread her hands. “Hell, Mike, I didn’t know what to expect.
I’m just an interested observer.”
For a minute no one said anything. When the silence was broken,
it was by Joe.
'So I’m confused. Where’s the hostility coming from?”
Gajovich didn’t look away from me. “There’s no hostility,” he
said. “Sorry if I gave that impression. Here’s the deal: I’m not a big
fan of this Gradduk fellow. He came into my office not long ago
with some crazy idea, criticized me for not supporting him, and a
few weeks later I find out he’s an arsonist and a killer.”
“What crazy idea did he come to you with?” I said.
“That’s what you’re here for?” Gajovich said.
“Yes.”
“And what’s your interest?”
“That of a concerned friend and citizen. You know, one of those
taxpayers who provides your salary. And one who plans to vote in
the next election.”
He ran a hand through that boyish blond hair and smiled at me,
but there was no Tom Sawyer in it this time. “I’m not a guy to
screw with, Perry.”
“Didn’t come in here with the intention of screwing with anybody.
Came here with a pretty simple question.”
“You know,” Gajovich said, “a lot of people forget that I am still
a practicing attorney. That’s what a prosecutor is, of course, an attorney.
And people also forget that any legal conversations I have
are protected by attorney/client privilege. They’re private.”
“Including the one you had with Ed Gradduk,” Joe said.
Gajovich nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what Gradduk told you, or
what you heard. And I don’t really care. Here’s what I do know,
and what I do care about: Gradduk was a criminal. He came in
here with a record, and when I sent him away, he promptly went
out and killed somebody. I regret that he was killed in that accident,
and not just because it was an embarrassing moment for our
police force. I regret that he was killed because it robbed me of the
opportunity to see him prosecuted, to see him put back where he
belonged.”
“Hard-nosed,” I said. “That’ll appeal to the voters. You might
pound on your desk with your fist, though. Add a little emphasis.”
“Go to hell,” Mike Gajovich told me.
For a long time we all sat there and said nothing, just traded
stares. Outside, a printer was grinding away and women were
laughing.
“I suppose this is the end of our meeting,” Amy said at last.
“I suppose so,” Joe answered when Gajovich didn’t.
They got to their feet, but I stayed where I was, meeting the
prosecutor’s glare. Joe had his hand on the doorknob
it. My face was already starting to ache. In my business we
don’t do so much smiling so early in the day. “What’s on your
minds?”
Amy turned in her chair and motioned to me. “It’s really Lincoln’s
show. I’m along for the ride.”
“Well, let me have it,” Gajovich said, still showing us his perfect
teeth. We’d put him in such a good mood that some lucky bastard
was probably going to get a plea bargain this morning.
“Do you know a guy named Ed Gradduk?” I said.
The smile dissipated slowly, ice melting in the sun.
“Ed Gradduk,” I repeated when he didn’t answer.
Gajovich let out a sigh that nearly cleared his desk of paperwork
and leaned back in his chair. “You mean the murderer?”
“I mean the guy who got run over by one of Cleveland’s finest
last night,” I said. “Far as I know, nobody’d convicted him of murder
yet. Or is that not required around here?”
“Getting fired in disgrace didn’t do a whole lot to change your
attitude, did it?” Gajovich said.
“I got fired quite a while ago, and that’s got nothing to do with
why we’re here.” Even as I spoke, I was amazed at how quickly the
tone had changed. I mentioned Gradduk’s name; Gajovich and I
were adversaries. That fast, that simple.
He looked at Amy. “You know, I would have appreciated it if
you’d given me an idea of what to expect here.”
She spread her hands. “Hell, Mike, I didn’t know what to expect.
I’m just an interested observer.”
For a minute no one said anything. When the silence was broken,
it was by Joe.
'So I’m confused. Where’s the hostility coming from?”
Gajovich didn’t look away from me. “There’s no hostility,” he
said. “Sorry if I gave that impression. Here’s the deal: I’m not a big
fan of this Gradduk fellow. He came into my office not long ago
with some crazy idea, criticized me for not supporting him, and a
few weeks later I find out he’s an arsonist and a killer.”
“What crazy idea did he come to you with?” I said.
“That’s what you’re here for?” Gajovich said.
“Yes.”
“And what’s your interest?”
“That of a concerned friend and citizen. You know, one of those
taxpayers who provides your salary. And one who plans to vote in
the next election.”
He ran a hand through that boyish blond hair and smiled at me,
but there was no Tom Sawyer in it this time. “I’m not a guy to
screw with, Perry.”
“Didn’t come in here with the intention of screwing with anybody.
Came here with a pretty simple question.”
“You know,” Gajovich said, “a lot of people forget that I am still
a practicing attorney. That’s what a prosecutor is, of course, an attorney.
And people also forget that any legal conversations I have
are protected by attorney/client privilege. They’re private.”
“Including the one you had with Ed Gradduk,” Joe said.
Gajovich nodded. “Yes. I don’t know what Gradduk told you, or
what you heard. And I don’t really care. Here’s what I do know,
and what I do care about: Gradduk was a criminal. He came in
here with a record, and when I sent him away, he promptly went
out and killed somebody. I regret that he was killed in that accident,
and not just because it was an embarrassing moment for our
police force. I regret that he was killed because it robbed me of the
opportunity to see him prosecuted, to see him put back where he
belonged.”
“Hard-nosed,” I said. “That’ll appeal to the voters. You might
pound on your desk with your fist, though. Add a little emphasis.”
“Go to hell,” Mike Gajovich told me.
For a long time we all sat there and said nothing, just traded
stares. Outside, a printer was grinding away and women were
laughing.
“I suppose this is the end of our meeting,” Amy said at last.
“I suppose so,” Joe answered when Gajovich didn’t.
They got to their feet, but I stayed where I was, meeting the
prosecutor’s glare. Joe had his hand on the doorknob
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