Reversible Errors (25 page)

"Arthur, may I say a word to you about what came up last night?"

"No," he answered at once. In the lunacy of triumph, he'd cracked open the dank toy chest of his fantasies. By now, he could barely stand to remember that. The utter privacy of his wild hopes was all that allowed him to maintain them. "Forget it. I was out of line. It was unprofessional, frankly. I mean, I'm inept. At that kind of thing. That's the truth. There are reasons somebody's alone at thirty-eight, Gillian."

"Arthur, I was alone when I was thirty-eight. And will be at forty- eight. You needn't be so hard on yourself."

"You're alone because you choose to be."

"Not completely. I'm inept in my own way, Arthur."

"Stop, Gillian. I'm doomed. I know I'm doomed. The world is full of people like me, who can't connect. It won't change. So don't try." He offered his hand again, but she frowned deeply.

He explained that the judge was due on the bench any second, and they left the witness room. In the corridor, Gillian asked him if Erno was ready.

"We've prepared the hell out of him," Arthur said, "but you never can tell until they're under the spotlight. You know that."

For a second, she peered through the small windows in the courtroom doors.

"It will be very dramatic," she said.

"You're welcome to watch," he said. "If you have the time."

She drew back at the thought.

"I'm quite curious, Arthur. I've often regretted not listening to Erno down at Rudyard. Perhaps it's the papers, but more and more, I feel as if I have a stake in this. But won't it be too unorthodox, if I'm in there?"

"I'll ask if anybody cares." He opened the heavy, leather-clad door and motioned to the bailiff to indicate Gillian was with him, so the officer would find her a seat.

As Arthur expected, Muriel had no concerns about Gillian. It was part of her courtroom macho, in any event, to pretend that she would be unaffected if God and His angels were here to watch her cross. When Judge Harlow sprang onto the bench, Arthur asked to be heard at the sidebar. Harlow was tall enough to simply scoot his chair over and lean across the side rail, while Arthur asked if there were any issues raised for the Court by the presence of Ms. Sullivan, the original sentencing judge, as a spectator. He explained how she'd come to be here.

"Gillian Sullivan, is it?" asked Harlow. He looked out at her, squinting through his heavy glasses. "One and the same?"

Arthur nodded. The judge asked Muriel if she had any objections.

"I object to the fact that we weren't informed when she got the letter, but I don't care that she's here. She has no role in these proceedings."

"Guess she wants to see for herself," said Harlow. "Can't say I blame her. All right, let's get moving."

The judge shooed the ring of lawyers away, but as they returned to their places, Arthur was aware that for the moment, all of them - Muriel, Tommy Molto, Carol Keeney, Larry, who'd tagged along, even the judge, and surely Arthur himself-were staring at Gillian, who sat, perfectly groomed and largely expressionless, along the aisle in the very last row. It struck Arthur that she had been correct. She did have a stake here, a more genuine one than most of them. For she, in some senses, was the accused. The question at hand was whether a decade ago she had, for whatever reason, rendered judgments afflicted by reversible-and fatal-errors. Gillian endured their scrutiny without shirking, while they all awaited the answer.

Chapter
18

june 13, 2001

Erno's Cross

"so the question, mr. erdai," said Muriel, "the real question is, were you lying then or are you lying now?" Even before Harlow had told her to proceed, Muriel had taken her place in front of Erno, reminding Larry of a boxer off his stool prior to the start of a round. She had lingered one more second, a small, lithe figure absorbing the entire attention of the courtroom, before putting her first question.

"Then," said Erno.

"Is that a lie?" "No."

"But you do lie, Mr. Erdai, don't you?"

"Just like everybody else."

"You lied to Detective Starczek in 1991, didn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You lied and put the noose around another man's neck. Is that what you're telling us?"
The toothpick scuttled from one side of Erno's mouth to the other before he said yes.

"Despicable behavior, wasn't it?"

"Nothing to be proud of."

"But even though you're a despicable liar, you're asking us to believe you now. Correct?"

"Why not?"

"We'll get to that, Mr. Erdai. By the way, did I introduce myself?"

"I know who you are."

"But you've refused to meet with me, correct?"

"Because that will only help you make it look like I'm lying, when I'm telling the truth."

On the bench, Harlow smiled faintly. As far as Larry could see, the judge was often amused by the jab and counter of the courtroom.

"Well, let me make sure I understand what you're telling us, Mr. Erdai. You're telling us that you killed three people in July of 1991. And three months later, the police hadn't caught you, right?"

<y
y t
rue.

"Did you want to get caught?"

"What would you think?"

"I think you would have done anything not to be apprehended -is that fair?"

"That's about the size of it."

"You had many friends on the Force, didn't you?"

"Many."

"So you knew the investigation was stillborn, correct?"

"Does that mean dead?"

"Let's say dying."

"Dying's about right."

"So if you'd actually killed those people, you had every reason to believe you were going to get away with it, correct?"

"Realistically, yeah. But I was still worried."

"Right. You were worried. And despite that, and even though you knew the investigation was dying, you decided to provide information that would revive it. Is that what you're saying?"

"Because of my nephew."

"And you didn't provide an anonymous tip-you went right to Detective Starczek."

"He came to me, but it's the same difference."

"Same difference," said Muriel. She was prowling now, moving back and forth. The fingers were spread on both hands, as if she'd catch Erno if he tried to escape. She'd worn what Larry regarded as a girlish dress, a print with a tie at the waist and a big bow at the throat, a gesture intended as much for the television viewers as the judge. If she could have put on a PTA button for the cameras, she might have. But anyone who'd seen Muriel in court would know she was as lethal as a panther.

"Is he a good detective?"

"One of the best."

"And would you agree that good detectives usually know when they're being spun?"

"If they know to look out, sure. But nobody's got the radar on twenty-four seven."

"But not only did you wake up this sleeping investigation, you did it, you say, by lying to somebody who you knew was good at seeing through lies, right?"

"You can put it your way," said Erno.

"And then you had your nephew lead the police to a cameo, knowing that if Gandolph told the truth, he could very well mention your name. Is that right?"

"I'da said he was full of it, and just throwing my name around cause he'd found out somehow that I was the one who put the cops onto him. I'd thought about that."

"And you thought that lie would be convincing?"

"Sure."

"Because you know how to lie convincingly, don't you?"

Harlow sustained Arthur's objection before Erno had to answer, but the judge appeared to smile at the art of the question.

"Now, you told us yesterday that you understood that your nephew would get nothing from the police or the prosecutors unless Gandolph was convicted, right? Yet you had no way of predicting, for example, whether Gandolph had an alibi, did you?"

"I knew he'd been around the airport to steal Luisas cameo."

"In the summer? I thought Gandolph was at the airport only when the winter weather forced him out there."

Erno made a face. He'd tried to squeeze past Muriel and she'd stopped him cold. After a little more squirming, he agreed he had told the judge yesterday that Gandolph was at the airport in the winter, and that he couldn't have been sure whether Squirrel had an alibi. Erno ate his own words sourly.

"So this is how it adds up, Mr. Erdai," said Muriel, and counted off each of her points on her fingers. "Although you didn't want to get caught, you breathed new life into a dead investigation. You did that by lying to an investigator who you knew was good at catching liars. And you pointed him toward someone who, in fact, could connect you to one of the murder victims. And you did all of that not even knowing if the man you say you were framing had a locked alibi. Do you understand now why we shouldn't believe you?"

Arthur objected at volume for the first time and the judge said, "Sustained." Piqued, Erno was unwise enough to continue on his own.

"It may not make sense to you, but that's what happened. I had to do something for my nephew. People don't always make sense."

"And this doesn't make sense, does it, Mr. Erdai? What you're telling us? It's one of those things that doesn't make sense."

Arthur objected again. Without looking up from his scribbling, the judge suggested that Muriel move on. She turned for a second and her small dark eyes sought out Larry, to see how it was going. He covered his mouth and held his thumb up on his cheek. Muriel nodded minutely. She thought so herself.

"Does it surprise you, Mr. Erdai, to know that an automated check of fingerprints from the crime scene showed that none of them are yours?"

"I wiped everything off. I was careful. Like I said."

"No DNA. No blood. No saliva. Semen. Nothing like that from you will be found at the scene, will it?"

"No. But you didn't have any of that from Gandolph neither."

'Tou know our evidence against Mr. Gandolph very well, don't you, Mr. Erdai?"

"I followed this case real close. Obvious reasons."

"And the gun, sir? What became of that?"

"In the river. With everything else."

Muriel grinned briefly, the expression of a veteran who'd met lots of guys with all the answers. She strolled back to the podium to glance at her notes, then stared for a full beat at Erdai.

"Are you dying?" she asked then.

"That's what the doctors say."

"You believe them?"

"Most times. Sometimes, I kinda start thinkin maybe they're wrong, docs have been wrong before, but mostly I know better."

"So, as far as you're concerned, you have nothing to lose with what you're telling us today. Right?"

"I don't follow."

"Really? Can you name anything you care about losing."

"My soul," said Erno. "If I got one."

"If you got one," repeated Muriel. "Let's stay here on earth. Anything here you care about losing?"

"My family," said Erno. "I care a lot about them."

"Well, they're standing by you, Mr. Erdai, aren't they? What else?"

"I'd hate to lose my pension from the airline. I worked a long time and I want to make sure my wife has something."

"Well, you don't lose your pension, do you, for murder?"

"If it's a crime against the company."

"Was this?"

"Only if Luisa was management."

Loud laughter volleyed from the gallery. The courtroom was full today. The press reports had had their predictable effect of filling every available seat.

"So you won't lose your pension. And you're not going to live long enough to get prosecuted again for perjury, right?"

"There's nothing to get prosecuted for."

"Either way, there's no chance you'll have to do more time, is there?"

"I suppose."

"And what about your nephew, Collins Farwell? He lied to Detective Starczek about having certain conversations with Rommy Gandolph, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but he thought Gandolph was the right guy."

"And where is Collins now?"

"He's got a lawyer named Jackson Aires. You can give him a call."

"A lawyer? So he could get advice about this situation?"

"Basically. I'm paying the bill, since I'm the one who put him in this spot to start with."

"And do you know if the lawyer has assured Collins that he can't be prosecuted for the lies he told in 1991, because the statute of limitations has run?"

"Isn't that supposed to be confidential?"

"Put it this way, Mr. Erdai. You understand nothing is going to happen to Collins as result of your testimony, don't you?"

"I hope nothing happens to him."