Dance of the Bones

While Brandon waited for a return call, he thumbed through his fraying spiral notebook. Yes, he had an iPad. Yes, he used it occasionally, but when he needed to remember something and take notes, he still gravitated toward pen and paper. Glancing at the pages from his interview with Amanda, he underlined the passage about the second homicide—-that of Kenneth Mangum/Myers.

Closing his eyes, he was just able to remember the guy, sitting on the witness stand and swearing that John Lassiter had loved Amos Warren like a father and would never have done anything to harm him. Of the witnesses who were called to testify, Mangum was the only one who had failed to be present during the knock--down, drag--out fight in El Barrio, for the very good reason that Ken had been in the county jail at the time doing a six--month stretch on a third DUI conviction.

Mangum had made an impassioned defense for his friend, but the jury had considered the source and had most likely disregarded his testimony completely when it came time to render their verdict.

Brandon’s cell phone rang, with Huffman’s name showing on the caller ID screen. “I couldn’t do this for every inmate, but in all these years, Lassiter’s got no bad-conduct problems. I’ve put your name on the list. When are you coming?”

“Today, if that’s possible,” Brandon said. “And one more thing. I’d really appreciate it if I could use an interview room rather than the ordinary visitation room. I’ve got some materials I’d like John to go over, and it’ll be easier if we could pass them back and forth across a table.”

“Whatever you’re bringing in will have to go through security, and you’ll need to have someone from the prison sit in on the interview, but I don’t have a problem with your using a room. What time should we expect you?”

“I’m leaving right now. Should take me a little less than two hours.”

“I’ll be sure the room is ready when you get here.”

“Thanks,” Brandon said.

“You’re welcome,” Huffman replied, “and say hello to your lovely wife.”

When the call ended, Brandon turned back to his contact list, found Ralph Ames’s number, and dialed it.

“Hey, Brandon,” Ralph said when he answered. “What’s up?”

“A guy who’s in prison doing life without, a guy I arrested years ago, has contacted me asking for us to look into that case. Even though he’s served decades for the crime, he still claims he didn’t do it. A group named Justice for All has worked out a time--served deal if he pleads guilty to second degree, but he turned that down. Says he won’t take a plea for something he didn’t do.”

“You’re the guy who arrested him in the first place, and now he’s asking for your help? That’s a little unusual.”

“It’s the first time it’s happened to me,” Brandon agreed, “and I have no idea how he knew of my connection to TLC. Still, I’d like to take a look at it. The thing is, I’ve just been informed that there’s another unsolved case—-at least I think it’s unsolved—-that may or may not be related to this one. One of the witnesses from this case, someone who testified on the defendant’s behalf, was murdered in Seattle sometime back in the eighties. Isn’t there someone you’ve been telling me about, a friend of yours from up there, that you’ve been trying to recruit for TLC?”

“Indeed there is,” Ralph replied. “His name’s J. P. Beaumont. He’s a good friend with way too much time on his hands at the moment. He worked for Seattle PD for years and was on a statewide Special Homicide Investigation Team for a number of years after that. Special Homicide was disbanded a -couple of months ago. I’ve been trying to bring him on board, and I’ve been getting nowhere fast.”

“You say he was working for Seattle PD in the eighties?”

“Around then, but I’m not sure of the exact dates.”

“The eighties are about the right time frame. Would you mind giving him a call to see if he’d be willing to take a look at the case in question?”

“I have a better idea,” Ralph replied. “Beau and I are pals. He can tell me no six ways to Sunday and never blink an eye. I suspect he’ll have a lot tougher time saying no to a request for help from a complete stranger. Why don’t you call him directly?”