Bury the Lead

40



THE CROWD AT DANIEL’S funeral could fill Madison Square Garden. Vince asks Laurie and me to sit up front with him, so it’s not until it’s over that I get a full appreciation for the size of the crowd. Daniel had a lot of friends, though the overwhelming majority of the attendees are there because of Vince. Vince knows everybody and everybody knows Vince, and it’s apparent today that they like him as well.

Vince sits stoically throughout the service, much as he’s been the last three days. Laurie and I are worried about him, but all we can do is watch him try to deal with this nightmare as best he can.

Vince invites about a dozen people back to his house afterward, and Laurie views this as a healthy sign. She and I are included in the group, and she has the foresight to call ahead and order some platters of food to be delivered there when we arrive. It’s not something Vince thought of, and he’s grateful for her thoughtfulness.

There do not seem to have been any developments in the search for Lassiter, and as I sit at Vince’s, my mind wanders back to the circumstances leading up to Daniel’s murder. There’s got to be an answer to the question of why Lassiter would get Daniel off his legal hook only to gun him down. Hatred is not the likely motivation; it’s fair to say that Daniel would have suffered more if the state had put him to death after years of miserable confinement on death row.

Vince’s boss, Philip Brisker, comes over and sits down with Laurie and me. Philip is in his early seventies and has been publisher of the paper since taking over from his father twenty years ago. The paper has been in the Brisker family for as long as I can remember, and that family has been well respected for a lot longer than that.

Philip wants to discuss our mutual concern for Vince. He thinks it would be good for Vince to come back to the paper sooner rather than later, and Laurie and I agree. I say that I’ll talk to Vince and gently suggest it but that he needs to do what feels right for him.

“It’s ironic,” Philip says, “all that time, with all everybody went through . . . for it to end like this. You win your case, and then . . .”

He doesn’t finish his thought, but I wouldn’t know if he did because my mind is racing. I’m realizing why I won my case and why Daniel lost his life.

Laurie and I stay for a short while longer and then say our goodbyes to Vince. I drop Laurie off at home, though she wants to stay with me.

Where I’m going I have to go alone.

I arrive at Dominic Petrone’s house at about five in the afternoon. I have no idea if he is at home, but I didn’t think calling ahead would be possible or productive. I could have had Vince arrange the meeting, since Vince knows Petrone along with everyone else, but I didn’t want him to know about it.

I pull up to the gate that we went through the night Driver and Gorilla brought Marcus and me here. Once again three enormous men are on duty, though I don’t recognize them as having been there that night. It doesn’t matter; any one of them could handle me quite easily.

“Yeah?” says one of them when I open my window.

“I want to see Dominic Petrone,” I say.

“Who the f*ck are you?”

“Andy Carpenter.”

He picks up the phone and calls in, reacting with some surprise a few moments later when he gets an apparently positive response. “Park behind the house and wait,” he says, and the gate opens.

I park where I’m told, and in less than a minute Driver and Gorilla come out to meet me. “This brings back a lot of memories, doesn’t it?” I say as Gorilla frisks me. They don’t answer, but then again I don’t expect them to.

I’m brought into the same room as on my previous visit, except this time Dominic is not there when I enter. Gorilla, Driver, and I sit and wait for almost twenty minutes, without a word being spoken. It’s not the most comfortable twenty minutes I’ve ever spent.

Dominic enters and comes over to shake my hand, ever the gentleman. “Andy, sorry to keep you waiting. You should have told me you were coming.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, “but I didn’t figure things out until about an hour ago.”

He seems amused. “Is that right?”

I nod. “Dominic, I just want you to confirm what I believe. We both know there’s nothing I can do about it legally, so I give you my word it won’t leave this room. I just have to know for sure.”

He sits down at his desk. “I’m listening.”

I lay it out for him. “You came to believe that Daniel had Linda Padilla killed, and maybe he did . . . I don’t think so, but I don’t know for sure. You wanted him dead, but you had promised me your help if I kept your name out of the trial. When I did so, you sent me Eddie as a witness, but that blew up in my face. To make good on your promise, you made sure I won my case by having another murder committed.”

“Andy . . . ,” he says, but I’m almost finished, so I continue.

“Once I had my victory, you got your revenge on Daniel for Linda Padilla’s death.”

He shakes his head in apparent sadness and looks at Driver, who mimics the shake. “Andy, you believe I would have an innocent woman murdered for no other reason than to let you win your case?”

I nod. “I do.”

“You are entirely wrong. About everything. I would not and did not have that woman murdered, I doubt very much that your client had anything to do with Linda’s death, and I did not have him killed. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . .”

“I don’t believe you,” I say, and immediately regret it.

“You flatter yourself,” he says. “You are not important enough to lie to.”

“Then tell me the truth. All of it. Please.”

He considers this for a few moments, then, “I’ll tell you what I know and what I believe. And if any of it is spoken outside this room, you will long for a death as quick and painless as your client’s.”

There isn’t much to say to that, so I just wait.

“Tommy Lassiter killed Linda and the other women. I believe he was out for revenge against your client, which is why he framed him. I also believe he shot and killed him.”

“So Linda Padilla was randomly picked like the others? She was in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

He shakes his head. “No, she was killed because Lassiter knew how much I valued her friendship. He killed her to hurt me . . . to show he could.”

I understand this completely; he also shot me with the paint ball on the street simply to show he could. But there is much I don’t understand. “Why would Lassiter commit that other murder, the one that got Daniel set free?”

Dominic shrugs. “I have no idea. He’s not the most stable of men.”

“And why would he want revenge against Daniel?”

“Daniel,” he says, pronouncing the name with distaste, “hired Lassiter to kill his wife and make it appear as if someone else committed the murder. The man Lassiter framed turned out to have an alibi that Lassiter failed to anticipate, and the case fell apart. Daniel was dissatisfied and withheld some of the payment.” He shakes his head. “Not a smart thing to do.”

My mind is spinning, a fairly common occurrence these days. I believe Dominic; he would have no reason to lie to me. He is saying that my client, Daniel, was a murderer all along, though he was not guilty of the crime for which he was on trial. He arranged for the murder of his wife in a business transaction and then was stupid enough to renege when it came time to pay up.

The more I think about it, the more incredulous I get. “Lassiter killed five women, strangled them and cut off their hands, to get revenge against someone who didn’t pay him enough money? That’s what this was all about? Money?”

Dominic smiles a slight smile. “That’s all it’s ever about.”