Split Second

31

I appreciate your meeting with me," said Joan.

Jefferson Parks sat down across from her in the small dining area of the i

She said, "Six years. The joint task force case in Michigan. The Secret Service and the U.S. Marshals were privileged to carry the bags of the FBI."

"As I recall, you broke the thing wide open and managed to let everybody know you had."

"Horn blowing should start at home, and I seem to have a knack for it. And if it had been a man, the credit would have come regardless."

"Come on, you really think that?"

"No, Jefferson, I really know that. Shall I cite you about a thousand examples? I have them right on the tip of my tongue."

"Along with about a ton of acid," muttered Parks under his breath. Out loud he said, "So you wanted to see me?"

"The Howard Je

"What about it?"

"I was just wondering about the status. Professional courtesy."

"I can't talk to you about an ongoing investigation. You know that."

"But you can tell me certain things that aren't confidential or thatwon't jeopardize your investigation, but as yet haven't made a public splash."

Parks shrugged. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"For instance, you haven't arrested Sean King, presumably because, despite certain circumstantial evidence that seems to implicate him, you don't believe he's guilty. And possibly you have facts that point in other directions. And he couldn't have killed Susan Whitehead because he wasn't here. In fact, I believe that you provided him with an alibi."

"How do you know that?"

"I'm an investigator, so I investigated," Joan said.

"The person who killed Howard Je

"I don't think so and neither do you. It seems to me that while the crimes are very different they are also very much the same."

Parks shook his head wearily. "I know you're real smart and I'm real stupid, but the more you talk, the less I understand what the hell you're saying."

"Let's suppose that Je

"Why?"

She ignored his question. "Now Susan Whitehead was killed elsewhere and then brought to Sean's house. In neither case is the evidence strong enough to show that he killed the victim, and in fact, in Whitehead's case the proof is the other way entirely: he had an alibi."

"Which he didn't have with Je

"Yes, he explained the gun substitution theory, which I take it you agree with."

"I'm not going to say one way or another. Here's one theory: Je

"Yet could they be sure?" wondered Joan.

"Sure of what?"

"Sure that Sean wouldn't have an alibi that night? He could have easily had an emergency call to go on while he was on duty, or someone that saw him at the time Je

Parks answered, "Unless they knew the pattern of his rounds and waited for him to reach the downtown area and then killed Je

"Seen, yes, but, again, if he had met someone along the way or received a call at the time he was downtown, he has an alibi and the case goes away."

"So where does that leave us?" asked Parks.

"With your framers not really caring if Sean is arrested for the crime or not. And in my experience framers are rarely so sloppy. If they were careful enough to steal his gun, copy it down to the last detail, kill Je

"Well, King could have rigged this all himself, to throw us off."

"With the motive of ruining the nice life he's made for himself here?"

"Okay, I get your point, but why are you taking such a keen interest in all this?"

"Sean and I used to work together. I owe him, shall we say. So if you're looking for your killer, I'd look elsewhere."

"You have any idea exactly where?"

Joan looked away. "I suppose everyone has ideas." And with that she abruptly ended the meeting.

A fter Parks left, Joan took the piece of paper out of her purse. She'd persuaded one of the county deputies to let her make a copy of the note found on Susan Whitehead's body while King and Chief Williams were occupied elsewhere. After reading through it she took from her wallet another piece of paper she'd kept all these years. She carefully unfolded it and stared at the few words written on it.

The note she was holding was one that she believed Sean had left for her in her room at the Fairmount Hotel on the morning Ritter was killed. After their vigorous night of lovemaking she slept in, and King went on duty. When she woke up, she saw the note and did precisely what it asked, even though the request carried some professional risk. After all, she was nothing if not a risk taker. At first she simply thought it bad timing, atrocious timing. Then she wondered what Sean had really been up to that morning. She said nothing back then for a simple reason: It would have ruined her career. Now this new development had thrown an entirely new angle on all of this.

The question was what to do about it.