Joe Victim: A Thriller

“Closer to exactly,” Schroder admits.

The lawyer turns back to Joe. “If you know where this body is, Joe, this could go toward getting the prosecution to take the death penalty off the table. To sell this information for money you can’t even use in here, well, that would be stupid. Let us use it to bargain with the prosecution.”

“The death penalty won’t be on the table,” Joe adds. “I’m an innocent man. I can’t remember hurting anybody, and it’s just not in my nature to have done that. I’m going to be released, most likely into a hospital for treatment and medication, and when I’m released from there I’m going to need the money.”

Wellington stares at Joe, and then he stares at Schroder, and Schroder knows in that moment that if he were ever to play poker, he’d want it to be against that lawyer because he can see exactly what the guy is thinking. Schroder certainly isn’t going to argue with Joe—the psychopath can believe what he wants if it will help get this deal signed. He’s disgusted at paying a single cent to the man, disgusted at Jonas Jones for using the situation for his own gain, disgusted at himself too for taking the bonus. There is a whole lot of disgust to go around, but there’s also a silver lining—Detective Calhoun will be found. He deserves to be properly buried.

The lawyer starts tapping a finger on the table and he stares at it at the same time, deep in thought. He looks up at Schroder and says, “To confirm, you’re not here in any capacity for the prosecution or the police force.”

“That’s right.”

“Then what gets said in here is between client and lawyer, and right now you’re privileged to that, which means right now you can’t reveal any of our conversation.”

Schroder nods. He isn’t sure if that’s true or not. He never really got lawyers. Nobody really does, except other lawyers, and even then he gets the idea half of them don’t know what the other half are on about. He’s happy to go along with it.

“Fine,” he says.

“Can’t we all just get along?” Joe asks, and Schroder wants to kick him. “I can’t remember killing anybody, that’s the truth, but I might remember where Detective Calhoun was buried.”

“Where?” Schroder asks.

“Well, it’s hard to say really. It’s all so vague. Trying to remember it is like trying to remember a dream. Every time I get a handle on it, it’s whipped away.”

“But the money will make it clearer, right?” Schroder asks.

“Like your boss would say, I’m getting a vision that it would, yes.”

Great. So there are going to be no straight answers. Joe is going to play with them for his money because it’s the only thing in his life he can control right now, and Schroder is just going to have to accept that if he wants this deal to go ahead. Once again he wonders how the hell his life has gone so badly wrong over the last month. Once again he has to focus on the silver lining—on getting Detective Calhoun back.

“Who buried the body?” he asks. “You or Melissa?”

“Like I said, it’s all so vague,” Joe says. “I know I didn’t kill him, and you know that too, because there’s a video of it. I don’t know who filmed the video.”

“The video was in your flat,” Schroder says. “It had your fingerprints all over it.”

“All so vague,” Joe says, and Schroder wants to punch him.

“And fifty thousand dollars will help you remember,” Schroder says.

“That’s the feeling I get,” Joe says, and then he flashes that stupid smile of his that he used to flash back at the police station when he was walking around with a bucket and mop. Back then it was endearing, but now it’s repulsive. “You know, Carl, you don’t give people enough credit. You need to be more positive in life. These bad thoughts—they’ll bring you down.”

Weirdly, he would have to agree, which in itself is a pretty dark thought—one that brings him down.

“You have a contract already drawn up?” Wellington asks.

“We do,” Schroder says, and slides a thin folder over to the lawyer, who doesn’t pick it up, but stares at it, and Schroder wonders if the lawyer can see a future that he doesn’t want to be a part of and if so, then good for him.

“I’m going to need ten minutes with my client,” he finally says.

“No problem.” Schroder stands up and knocks on the door. “Let me know when you’re ready,” he says, and one of the guards comes and gets him and leads him back out to the waiting area.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


My lawyer is wearing the same outfit and has the same annoyed expression on his face. We sit in the same room and make the same kind of conversation.

“What’s going on here, Joe?” he asks.

“It’s simple. I tell them where I think the bodies are. If I’m right, I get fifty thousand dollars.”