Darkness the Color of Snow (9 page)

“I heard about that.” He nodded toward the cell. “Them?”

“Pretty sure. They haven't confessed to anything, but we've got good evidence.”

Jack turned to the cell. “Paul, you do that? You burn down the gazebo?”

Paul Stablein shrugged, much as Matt Laferiere had.

“I asked you a question.”

“I think I want a lawyer.”

“Son of a bitch. You're not getting a lawyer, not yet. What you've got is me. You do it?”

“It was kind of an accident.”

Matt Laferiere turned to Stablein. “Shut up.”

“I didn't say anything.”

“You said something. Just shut up. All of you. They're playing us. They don't have any evidence.”

Jack Stablein turned back to Gordy.

“We have the gas can they used to start the fire. It's Roger's. Have you met Roger?” Gordy motioned toward Roger Laferiere, who was sitting on the desk chair, not saying anything. “I want to get all the parents here before we start talking about this. Maybe you two can chat.”

“I walked away from a customer ready to buy for this. I can't hang around here all day,” Jack said. “How much is this going to cost me?”

“I have no idea,” Gordy said. “This is a case of arson.”

“You're charging them with arson? Paul, don't say another word. Not until there's a lawyer here.”

“It's arson. Whether they're going to be charged is something we haven't decided yet. It's the logical and correct thing to do, though.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Gordy smiled a small smile and motioned to the chair Pete had pushed next to Roger Laferiere's. “We want to hear from everyone before we decide how we're going forward with this. The others should be here soon. Mostly I want to hear it from them.” Gordy motioned toward the cell.

“Not without a lawyer,” Stablein said.

“If we get lawyers in here, we're going to be forced to charge them and let the lawyers do their thing. I'd rather not work that way. Talk to Roger.”

Gordy went back to his office to think more, mostly unsuccessfully, about what they should do with the four boys. None of the options seemed good to him. He hated the idea of sending kids to correctional institutions. It was a waste. More, it was surrender. But mercy didn't seem like such a good option, either. There was no real way to forgive these kids for what they had done. It was an insult to the town, and the town had gone through enough already.

In five minutes, Pete was at the door. “Cabella and Forbert are here.”

“Bring them in. Their chairs, too.”

The fathers entered in single file, Jack Stablein first, with clenched jaw, then an almost equally annoyed Frank Cabella in khakis and red polo shirt embroidered Auto Depot. Frank, Manager. Then one he didn't know, obviously Karl Forbert, followed by the still-­glum Roger Laferiere.

“Gentlemen. Thanks for coming. Again, I'm terribly sorry to take you away from your busy day. But we have a serious problem we need to talk over.” He rose and extended his hand to Karl Forbert. “I don't believe we've met. Gordon Hawkins, police chief.”

Forbert just nodded. “Karl Forbert.”

“As I think you know,” Gordy said, “the gazebo in Henry Stuhl Park burned down last night. We're sure that your sons are the culprits. I would really like to just write this off as a juvenile prank, but I'm afraid I can't. That gazebo was a point of pride in this town. A lot of ­people put a great deal of time and money into that structure. I know Roger and Karl both worked on it. This is going to cause a lot of ill will in the town.”

“What evidence do you have that they're the ones who did it?”

“A lot. We have Roger's gas can that was left at the scene. We have plenty of tire tracks that will match the tires on Matt's Jeep. We have eight empty beer cans from an empty thirty-­pack we found in the Jeep this morning. And we have their admission that they were in the park last night.”

“That sounds a long way from airtight,” Jack Stablein said.

“Maybe, maybe not. That's for lawyers to figure out. But it's enough to satisfy me that we have the right guys. It'll probably convince a jury, too. But we'll see about that if it comes to that.”

“I'm going to beat holy hell out of Bobby,” Frank Cabella said. “He's just turned into a little shit since he's been hanging around with the Laferiere kid.”

Gordy saw Roger look up, a flash of anger in his eyes, but then he looked back down, even more glum, if that were possible.

“No. No beatings. Beatings don't solve problems.”

“This one will. I'm going to give him a beating he will remember every day for the rest of his goddamned life.”

“I don't doubt that he will. But I don't really want to have to arrest you for battery, either.”

“It's my business. I'll do with my son as I please.”

“No,” Gordy said. “I'm sorry, but no you won't. If we're talking about sending a kid home for a beating, I'd rather send a kid to juvie where he'll get beaten by someone his own age. No. No beatings. And I'm not kidding about arresting you. If I find out you battered your son, I will arrest you.”

“OK,” Jack Stablein said. “It's time for the lawyers. I want to call mine.”

“As I explained, Mr. Stablein, if you call a lawyer, I have no choice but to charge your son with a felony. I do that, it's out of our hands. It's in the courts then. I asked you here to talk this thing through, to see if we can come to an agreement. I think that's the best way to handle this. It's a Lydell issue, and I'd like to deal with it at this level. But if I have to charge them and send them to Warrentown, I will.”

“What are you thinking?” Karl Forbert asked.

“I'm thinking a lot of things, and I don't, frankly, have a good answer. I want something that fits the crime. I'm just not sure what it is.”

“I don't have a lot of money,” Karl Forbert said. “I'm a carpenter, and there's not a lot of work right now. I can't afford to reimburse the town for what my son did.”

“No one's confessed to anything,” Jack Stablein said.

“But we know they did it.”

“That's not an admission. They haven't said they did it.”

“Look. I don't want you to answer this question. But think about it for a minute. Do you have any real doubts that they did it? Really?”

To Gordy's surprise, no one said anything. The four of them, including Stablein, just sat and stared at the walls.

“It's a tough one,” Gordy said. “The whole town is hurting. Jobs are scarce. We're all suffering in one way or another. But there will have to be reparations. We can't go to the town and ask for volunteers to build another gazebo when they all know it was maliciously burned. That can't happen.”

“You want us to rebuild it?”

Gordy thought for a minute. “No. I want them to rebuild it.”

Cabella shook his head. “I don't know about the rest, but Bobby couldn't build a dog pen.”

The other three laughed. That was good. The laughing was good, Gordy thought.

“They could if someone showed them how.”

“Ronny can build,” Karl Forbert said. “I could show the others how, but if a job comes up, I have to take it. Making a living is tough enough without a second, unpaid job.”

“You didn't burn it down, Karl. You shouldn't have to rebuild it, or even supervise it. None of you. They burned it down. I want them to do it, without help from you.”

“But they can't do it themselves.”

“Let's not underestimate them. We have a building inspector and a public works director in the town. They can supervise. They can show them what to do, and apparently Ronny knows how to build.”

“It's going to take a lot of material. It's going to be expensive, and the price of lumber is way up. No one's building, but the price of lumber hasn't come down. It's up.”

“Yeah. I know that,” Gordy said. “I want them to pay for it. I want them to supply the labor and all of the materials.”

“Maybe Ralph over at Lydell Materials could give you a break on the lumber—­sell it at cost.”

“That's not fair to Ralph. He would probably do that, but that's still taking money out of his pocket. He donated a lot of the material in the first place. He's not responsible for replacing it. They will have to buy lumber at retail.”

“How?”

“They'll have to get jobs. There are always things to do if you look hard enough. This is a crime of boredom. They were hanging out, drinking and smoking a little, maybe. They have too much time on their hands. Let's take some of it off their hands. Let them learn what it means to work and struggle to get something done.”

“I don't know,” Frank Cabella said. “This seems pretty difficult to pull off.”

“It would be easier than putting in six months or a year in juvie or worse. They could be charged as adults, and then they would have to do adult time.”

“I don't want Paul doing jail time.”

“Can't blame you,” Gordy said. “They won't come out of jail better boys.”

“I don't see that we have a lot of options here,” Stablein said. “I'll agree to it.” He looked around at the other three.

“It's a pretty good deal,” Cabella said.

“OK. Fine,” Forbert said. Roger Laferiere just nodded.

“All right,” Gordy said. “We have a deal, then. Let's just make sure we're all talking about the same thing. They will rebuild the gazebo. They will do it themselves, with supervision from the town. If they don't do it, I'm going to press charges. Those are their only options. Build the gazebo or be arrested.”

The fathers nodded their agreement.

“And no one helps them. In any way. No money.” He looked at Stablein. “No doing any of the work for them.” He looked at Forbert. “I want them to have a sense of accomplishment at the end of this. Are we agreed? All right then, let's go back into the main office and let them know.”

“T
HIS IS YOUR
lucky day,” Jack Stablein said.

“I'll handle this,” Gordy said. “We're going to offer you guys two options. Your fathers and I are in agreement. You can rebuild the gazebo you burned down last night, or I will arrest you for arson, a felony, and you'll be bound over for arraignment in Warrentown. Those are your choices. There will be no others, no compromises. If you take the first option, and you'll be fools if you don't take it, you'll spend every afternoon, every Saturday on the gazebo. You'll build it yourselves with no help except directions from the building inspector or the public works director. You will buy all of the materials. When it's rebuilt, you will be released with nothing on your record.”

“How are we going to buy materials?” Bobby Cabella asked.

“With your own money. That will probably entail getting some part-­time jobs. I don't know. Frankly, it's your problem, not mine. You find money for beer and weed . . .” Gordy glanced at the fathers. “So you can find money for lumber.”

“How are we supposed to get jobs if we have to work here every afternoon?”

“You'll work here every day from three to five. After that, you can go to your jobs.”

“There aren't any jobs,” Matt Laferiere said.

“Shovel snow, wash cars, have bake sales, gather beer cans along the road. I don't care. The town will buy the initial materials, but you'll pay us back. You won't be released from pending charges until you've rebuilt the gazebo and paid for it.”

“This is messed up,” Matt Laferiere said.

“It is,” Gordy agreed. “And you're the ones who messed it up. Now you're going to clean up your mess.”

“They probably don't have tools,” Karl Forbert said. “Can Ronny use mine?”

“Sure. If you can't borrow tools, you can use the town's tools from public works. You want the offer?”

The boys looked at one another. Stablein, Cabella, and Forbert all nodded. Laferiere stayed on the cot and stared ahead at the wall. “He doesn't have enough evidence.”

“Oh, but I will. You all are going to sign confessions that will go into the file. When you're done, I will destroy them.”

“I'm not copping to anything, and I'm not signing anything,” Laferiere said. “He just admitted he doesn't have enough evidence.”

“You want a lawyer?” Roger asked.

“Hell, yes, I want a lawyer.”

“How are you going to pay a lawyer? I'm sure as hell not paying for one,” Roger said. Gordy smiled.

“I'll get a public defender. I'm not rebuilding that thing, and I'm not getting a job.”

“You other three going to take the offer, or are you going to jail with him?”

The three looked at one another. “Don't take the deal,” Matt Laferiere said. “Don't sign anything.”

“Work or felony arrest?”

Forbert spoke first. “I'll take the deal.”

“Me, too,” Bobby Cabella said.

Stablein looked at his father, who nodded. “Yeah,” Stablein said, “I'll take it.”

“I've got three to work this off. One arrest?”

“Take the deal,” Roger said.

“No.”

“I'm going to have three signed confessions that the four of you did it,” Gordy said. “Now, what kind of magic is a public defender going to work against that? You're going to jail.”

“Take the deal,” Roger said. “If you don't, you ain't coming home tonight or any other night.”

“Fuck,” Laferiere said. “What choice do I have?”

“Exactly,” Gordy said. He motioned for Pete to unlock the holding cell. Gordy walked over to the supply cabinet. “I'm going to give each of you a pad of paper and a pen. You will write down exactly,
exactly,
what happened last night. If I like what you write, you can sign it and go home.”