The answer being obvious, Crawford saw no need to respond.
The former prosecutor continued. “By all accounts, you saved Judge Spencer’s life. No matter what your father-in-law does to try to color her opinion of you, he’ll be peeing into the wind. The judge isn’t going to forget how you shielded her with your own body. Stop worrying on that score. You’ve won her favor.”
Speaking in an undertone, Crawford said, “Don’t be so sure.”
There was nothing wrong with the old man’s hearing, either. He perked up and fixed on Crawford the shrewd stare that had cowed lying defendants. “What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why’d you say it?”
“Forget it.”
“Has the judge got some reason to dislike you?”
“No.” His overly loud denial caused Conrad’s eyebrows to climb up his wrinkled forehead. Gesturing impatiently, Crawford said, “All I meant was, don’t be fooled by the soft packaging. She’s tougher than she looks. She was raking me over the coals but good when the guy rushed in with pistol blazing.”
Conrad sighed. “Lunatics on shooting sprees are going for records these days, trying to outdo each other. If you hadn’t reacted as you did, he would have killed the judge, and, more than likely, you and many others.”
Crawford turned back to gaze out the window. “Maybe.”
“Everybody’s saying.”
“Everybody’s saying a lot of shit. Doesn’t make it true.”
Conrad waited several moments, then asked, “Does your little girl know that her daddy’s a hero?”
“She doesn’t care. It’s enough for her that I’m Daddy. Anyway, I’m not a hero.”
“That’s arguable. You risked your life protecting others. You confronted the guy up on the courthouse roof.”
Crawford said nothing to that.
“Have they figured out who he was?”
Crawford shook his head.
“Well, that’s not your problem.”
“It wasn’t until about an hour ago.”
Conrad made a snuffling sound. “I get the feeling we’re just now getting to the heart of the matter.”
Coming back around, Crawford told him about Neal’s visit to his house that morning. “He delivered a message from the police chief, along with a letter from Chet’s widow.” He related the gist of it. “Next thing I know, I’m accompanying Neal to the morgue, when what I should’ve done was to kick him out of my house.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because of the letter from Mrs. Barker. Besides—”
“Ha! Figured there was a ‘besides.’ I’ve been waiting for it.”
“I watched Chet die,” he said tightly. “I watched the guy on the roof get blown to hell. Naturally, I wanted answers to all the questions left open.”
“Naturally.” Conrad waited, then asked softly, “You find any answers in the morgue?”
Crawford said nothing, just looked back at him, and Conrad immediately read meaning in his expression. His rheumy eyes narrowed to slits. “I see. Well, then, that breakthrough was worth you making the trip downtown. Neal Lester must be happy.”
“I didn’t share.”
Without breaking their eye contact, Conrad lowered the footrest of his recliner, sat up straight, and scrubbed his bristly chin with his hand. “You didn’t tell—”
“Or even let on about it.”
Conrad eyed him, finally saying, “Usually, when someone withholds information from the authorities, it’s to protect something or someone.” He waited for Crawford to address that, and when he didn’t, he went on.
“I won’t ask what it is you know, because I don’t want to hear anything that I might have to testify to in court at a later date. But whatever it is, you need to tell the police immediately.”
“Why?”
“Duty. Justice. Or obstruction thereof. Just a few of the reasons that spring to mind.”
“If I keep it to myself, no one will ever know.”
“You will. Can you live with the secret, whatever it is?”
Crawford looked aside, cursing under his breath.
“I didn’t think so,” Conrad said.
“If I cough up what I know, I’ll be placing myself in the epicenter of a shit storm.”
“You’re already at the center.”
“A bigger shit storm,” Crawford said. “An F-five shit storm.”
“Which could prevent you from getting custody of your kid.”
“Damn fucking straight.”
Conrad took a couple of moments to assimilate that. “Okay. I get that. But what happens if you don’t tell?”
Crawford drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Potential for an even greater disaster.”
“How much greater? Life or death greater?” Then he said, “Never mind. It’s written all over you. Somebody else could die.”
“Could,” Crawford stressed. “Maybe not. I don’t know.”