I do my best to suppress my personal issues and analyze the evidence. “The recording is problematic. If Katy doesn’t come out of that coma, she can’t be cross-examined, and she’s clearly got mental issues, as evidenced on the tape. Plus she’s under the influence of a potentially suicidal dose of narcotics. The recording would be a lot more effective with her alive on the stand to verify and elaborate on it.
“If she would verify it. She’s clearly been terrified of her father for years. Her husband, too. If she doesn’t wake up from the coma, could this stand as a dying utterance?”
Caitlin’s ambition is like a third person in the car.
“I doubt it. But if you could get it admitted, the circumstances might lend weight to her statements. Except …”
“What?”
“She said her father killed Henry. Didn’t she?”
“Yeah. ‘Mr. Henry,’ she said. Like a little girl.”
“Henry Sexton’s not dead.”
Caitlin shrugs as though this is inconsequential. “I’m sure she meant that Brody ordered the hit on Henry. They did try to kill him, right?”
“Yes, but that’s a big problem, as far as using this recording as trial evidence. It calls everything else she said into question. God, I wish she’d spoken Viola’s name.”
Caitlin turns and stares out at the darkened courthouse. “Are you saying I shouldn’t use it?”
“No. But what are you thinking of doing with it?”
“If this were any other case … I’d go straight over to St. Catherine’s Hospital and interview Brody Royal right now—if he’s even there. That’s what Henry would do, if he could.”
I strive to keep my voice level. “But this isn’t any other case. And given Royal’s past, and what you just did to his daughter—and her husband—that could be suicidal.”
Caitlin whirls on me. “I’m sorry the woman tried to kill herself, okay? But she’s been mentally unstable for years. And I see no reason not to use this recording as the linchpin of tomorrow’s stories.”
I draw back in surprise. “You want to publish the contents of this recording? Tomorrow?”
“Maybe,” she says defiantly.
As I try to think of a way to prevent this, a revolutionary idea comes to me. “You know something? From an evidentiary point of view, that recording has serious problems. But as an existential reality … it’s one hell of a weapon.”
She looks suspicious. “What exactly do you mean?”
“I know you’re focused on tomorrow’s story. But tomorrow is a world away right now. At this moment, Dad and Walt are being hunted as cop killers. Their lives are measured in hours, maybe minutes. The only way to save them is to get that APB revoked. And the only way I can see to do that is to go to the very men who want Dad dead and blamed for Viola’s murder.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrow still further. “Brody? And …?”
“Forrest Knox. Knox issued the APB. They’re the only ones with the stroke to change the public narrative and stop that manhunt.”
“Bullshit! I can change the public narrative. With this recording, and with Henry’s files.”
“Not fast enough to save Dad.”
When Caitlin covers her eyes with her hands, I know it’s all she can do not to hit me in the face.
“There’s more,” I go on. “Earlier today, I got into a fight with Randall Regan myself. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry. But it was brutal. Now you’ve driven Brody’s daughter to suicide, and fired a gun at Regan in his own house. Do you really think they’re going to sit around and wait for you to destroy them in tomorrow’s Examiner? We really shouldn’t even be sitting out here on the street.”
As though realizing the danger for the first time, she scans the dark street around us.
“To save Dad, we’ve got to go straight at them,” I tell her, squeezing her arm. “Right now. They won’t expect that, and it’ll give us the initiative.”
“But why would they agree to help Tom?”
“Because I’m going to show them a greater threat than Dad. Between what you’ve got on that phone, what I know from Henry, and some exaggerations about witnesses, I can make them see that killing Dad isn’t worth what it will cost them in the end.”
“What witnesses are you talking about?”
“Huggy Bear. Walker Dennis got a call today from a guy who claims he saw Brody and Regan burn the Beacon last night. He didn’t give his real name, but I think it’s the same guy who saw Brody burn Norris’s store forty years ago—only he’s a man now.”
Caitlin’s eyes flash with interest, but then she settles back into her seat, her jaw muscles flexing. “I don’t like this. It sounds more like bribery than intimidation. Those bastards aren’t going to give you anything without getting something in return. You know that.”
“Who cares! The point is getting Dad safely into federal custody. After that, you can throw Brody to the wolves. You just might have to wait a day to do it. That’s all. For them to call off the dogs, and for me to get Dad safely in.”
Her cheeks go red. “Now you want me to hold off publishing for a day? This afternoon you were demanding that I publish everything immediately!”
“Don’t postpone the story. Just leave Brody and the tape out of it for a day. Those old murders have waited nearly forty years to be solved. They can wait another twenty-four hours.”
There’s a war going on inside Caitlin, her code of honor and blazing ambition on one side, love for my father on the other.
“Penn … Brody Royal is like a cobra in tall grass. Regan, too. You’re saying you want to walk into the grass with them and make some kind of deal—then go back on it and nail them. I say the only way to get them is to slash and burn their cover, expose them for everyone to see. That’s the only way to stop monsters like that. If you try your way … I’m afraid you’ll wind up like Henry, or worse.”
Reaching into my coat, I take out the straight razor I carried up to the selectmen’s meeting and open my palm. “I went to see Pithy Nolan yesterday. She gave me a little present. Be careful with it.”
Caitlin takes the gleaming object from my hand, runs a fingernail down the groove between the handle and blade.