Michael Stone, Fairview’s lawyer, had agreed to the interview only if Fairview was granted “use immunity.” Use immunity meant the government couldn’t use what was said today against Fairview at any future trial—it was for information only. Even if he broke down and confessed to killing Katie, it would be inadmissible at trial.
Allison had agreed to the stipulation, but mentally she put an asterisk after the agreement. If Fairview bobbed and weaved, if he said anything that put her antennae up, then the interview would be over, and the next time she saw Fairview would be in front of the grand jury. And if he said anything at all different to the grand jury, she would know he was lying. While technically she wouldn’t be able to use that knowledge, it would still make all the difference.
She knew that Stone knew this as well. Most lawyers took the safe route and just said no thanks to an interview, even with use immunity. But Stone was a risk taker. He practiced law expertly, but often very close to the edge. Of course, he would also turn around and not only tell the media that his client was cooperating, but hint that Fairview was actually helping to track the real killer down.
The two men were waiting in the lobby.
Dapper and neat, with black hair silvering at the temples, Senator Fairview wore a perfectly tailored black suit and an appropriately concerned expression. He shook Allison’s hand with just the right amount of firmness. In her two-inch heels, she was eye to eye with him.
Michael Stone was as famous for his expensive suits as he was for his high-profile clients. Today he wore a charcoal gray suit with a subtle pinstripe, which had probably cost more than Allison’s car, as well as shiny Prada shoes with the little red stripe up the back of the heel.
“Hi. I’m Mike Stone. How you folks doin’?” Stone also shook their hands, his teeth gleaming in his tan face.
“We appreciate you coming in during the holidays,” Allison said. “I’m sorry to have to take you away from your families.”
“This is a matter of life and death,” Fairview said portentously. “I will do everything in my power to help you find that girl.”
Allison ushered them into a conference room that overlooked the Willamette River. Senator Fairview smoothed the front of his jacket before sitting down. He reminded her of some kind of smooth, self-contained animal, a cat maybe, or an otter. She knew every word out of his mouth would have been rehearsed with Stone many times over.
“Now, Senator Fairview,” Allison began.
He cleared his throat. “Please, call me James.”
“I understand Katie Converse was your page,” she said, careful not to call him anything at all. “How many pages do you have at one time?”
Fairview’s shoulders seemed to relax. “That’s not how the page system works. She wasn’t ‘my’ page. There are only thirty Senate pages per program, and two programs per year. I usually only sponsor a page every two or three years. But they don’t work for me. They work for the whole Senate.”
As he spoke, Nicole took notes. Later she would write up a report and send it to Allison.
Stone was pecking away on his Mac PowerBook. He was either taking copious notes or playing solitaire. Either way, he seemed to be distancing himself from the interview, giving Allison and Nicole a free hand. If it was a ploy, it was one that worked for Allison.
“How many applicants did you have for the slot Katie took?” Allison asked.
He shrugged. “I think five or six. My staff narrowed it down for me. I only spoke with the top three finalists.”
“So you first met Katie . . . ?”
“Last spring when I interviewed her.”
“Was anyone else present?”
“Her stepmother—Valerie—was there, but I asked her to stay in the waiting area. Valerie and her husband have donated to my campaign, and I’ve met her at a few fundraising events.” Fairview allowed himself a small smile. “But frankly, she seems like a bit of a helicopter parent—do you know the term?”
“A parent who hovers?” Allison asked.
“Exactly. I want to hear from the student applying to be sponsored by me, not from some parent who interrupts everything they say to explain, ‘What Jonathan really meant was . . .’”
“You said the Converses had donated to your campaign. Is that a prerequisite to being a page?”
“Of course not,” Fairview said in a disappointed tone. “Katie was chosen on her own merits. She was bright, well-spoken, and had glowing references from her teachers. The other candidates had those things too. But what made Katie stand out was how much she loved politics. She wasn’t just thinking that a stint as a Senate page would look good on her college transcript. She truly cared. Her parents could even have been Democrats and I still would have wanted to sponsor her—although I’ll admit it’s not likely liberals would have asked me to sponsor their kid.”
He smiled disarmingly. Allison caught herself starting to smile back.
“And what was your impression of Katie?”
Fairview made a show of looking at Stone, who said, “Just tell them what you know, James, like we talked about. Just tell them the truth.”