A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [159]
“Anyway,” Dennis continued, “that’s why I came. To make sure you’re careful. I don’t want you talking to anybody. I don’t want you even asking a cop for a glass of water until I can get Miridici in here.”
“I already did. But mostly it was stuff they already knew,” he added quickly, seeing the shock on Dennis’s face.
“Stuff? What do you mean, stuff?”
“Details. The facts.” He repeated what he’d told Kaminski, the weather that day, the taxi he’d thought had dropped off Mrs. Jukas about three o’clock. He had been able to remember everything he’d bought for her that morning, even though he didn’t have her list. He’d thrown that out. When he heard how grave her condition was, he’d realized he was stuck with the groceries.
“You said that? You said stuck?” Dennis stared in disbelief.
“Well, that I’d have to keep them, that’s what I meant.”
“But is that what you said?”
“Yes.” He nodded. He must have, wasn’t sure, didn’t remember, couldn’t believe any of this was happening. This strange calm was like a glass wall through which reality could be viewed but not felt.
“Gordon! Gordo, look at me. Every word counts, do you understand? Everything you say, they’ll use it against you. This time do it right. Don’t be telling them every goddamn thing you can think of!”
This time? This murder. He had only told them the truth. They had been most interested in the exact time he’d bought the groceries, which showed on the register slip. They knew when the cleaning lady had left and when Mrs. Jukas had been dropped off. That put the time of attack between 12:25 and 1:10. Dennis asked why 1:10. That’s when the clinic had called to change the date of her next appointment, but Mrs. Jukas hadn’t answered her phone. Gordon said he’d told them that must have been the same time he was on her porch with the groceries. He’d heard the phone ring inside. It rang for a long time.
“You told them that?”
“Yes. That’s what happened. I heard it.”
“Jesus Christ, what’re you doing telling them things like that?” Dennis looked toward the corridor. The guard was pacing back and forth.
“I’m not going to lie. That’s worse,” Gordon said in a low voice.
“You didn’t lie last time, either.” Dennis’s whisper came as a hiss.
“Last time . . . ,” he started to say, then closed his eyes. Last time, the cell was dark, with bars on all four sides. This was a brand-new jail, bright with recessed lighting. He still had no belt or shoelaces. The inventory of confiscated possessions included his wallet, comb, and pen. Signing it had seemed a mark of hope. Last time, they hadn’t given him such a document to sign. Last time, he had also told them the truth. “Dennis, I didn’t touch Mrs. Jukas. I swear. I didn’t hit her. I didn’t even see her. She never came to the door.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Dennis dug his knee into Gordon’s, then huddled close and whispered, “They don’t know it, but there’s a witness. Jilly Cross. She saw you.”
“Yes, she did, that’s right. Is she going to tell them? Will you ask her to?” He couldn’t help smiling.
“Jesus Christ, she saw you, that exact same time, coming out of Jukas’s.”
“No! That’s not true!”
“She said you were upset, that you were angry. She said all she did was ask why you were over there and you grabbed her.”
“No. I didn’t. I didn’t grab her.” Gordon shook his head, so agitated that he was panting. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
“She told me that two weeks ago,” Dennis whispered. “The very day she heard about it she called me at the office. She said it was you, she was sure of it, it had to be, but if I didn’t want her to, she wouldn’t go to the police. She keeps calling and wanting to know what she should do. What we should do. And I don’t know what to tell her. It’s like I’m being sucked into this whirlpool and I can’t get out.”
“I’m sorry.” There was nothing more to say. His brother would help but didn’t believe him.
“I’m meeting her right after this.” Dennis checked his watch, then leaned close, whispering more