Bringing Adam Home - Les Standiford [130]
His department had been too defensive about its mistakes in the past and could well have arrested the chief suspect for the crime before he died, Wagner said, apologizing to the Walshes for those lapses. But make no mistake about it, were Ottis Toole alive today, he would be arrested and charged with the crime. And—Wagner was certain—he would have paid for it with his life.
As might be expected, the announcement prompted a barrage of questions from the assembled media. A choked-up John Walsh told reporters that the announcement was a reaffirmation of the fact that Adam didn’t die in vain. “For all the other victims who haven’t gotten justice,” he added, “I say one thing: ‘Don’t give up hope.’ ”
When reporters turned to Revé Walsh, she spoke simply and poignantly. “This is a wonderful day, in spite of why we’re here. Nothing will bring back our beautiful little boy,” she said, “but at least the knowing will close this chapter of our lives.”
In that same vein, John Walsh added that while the family would never recover from Adam’s death, they could finally move on. Still, he noted, “It’s not about closure; it’s about justice.”
Maybe it was a little of both—closure and justice—Joe Matthews thought, as he watched from the wings. As a friend of John and Revé, he understood how important this announcement was—we now know who killed your son, and we should have found out sooner. And as a cop, Matthews also reveled in the fact that a killer had finally gotten his due.
As to the fact that his own name had not been mentioned prominently on this day, that was at his own request. The moment was for the Walshes. His wife Ginny had been in the room as Wagner made his announcement, and as she observed of the family, “It looks as if they’re taking their first deep breaths in years.”
To Matthews the words rang particularly true. Wagner’s pronouncement wasn’t going to change the Walshes’ lives in an instant—he was reminded of something Revé had once told him when he’d asked her about her grieving:
“It’s like you’ve been in a terrible accident and had your arm amputated,” she told him. “After a while, the pain goes away, and eventually you even learn to get along without your arm. Some days you’re sad that you’re missing your arm, and some days you’re angry about it, and some days you’re okay. But, no matter what, no matter how long it’s been, you never stop missing your arm.”
The simple observation had jolted Matthews at the time. But still, he thought, this day was a milestone, a place from which a new journey could begin.
Matthews had overheard Ginny bidding Revé farewell. “I wish you and your family a truly wonderful and Merry Christmas,” she said simply.
Revé paused and took her husband’s hand. “Thank you,” she told Ginny. Her eyes were brimming, but she managed a smile. “This will be our first Merry Christmas in twenty-seven years.” Even Matthews found himself choked up at that one.
And if anyone present chose to assume that it was Chad Wagner and his men who’d finally put two and two together, that was okay, too. Wagner was, in Matthews’s eyes, deserving of plenty of credit. There were surely many of the chief’s own men who would have preferred that he simply do as all his predecessors had done. But Chad Wagner was a stand-up cop.
Furthermore, John and Revé Walsh knew how this day had come to be, as did Matthews’s own family and all his friends in law enforcement, and that was fine by him. Most important, Matthews felt the presence of his mother in the room, gazing at him with pride, nodding her approval. He’d done his job, banging away at the case for twenty-seven years, and justice had prevailed.
So now, he’d go down to the beach, treat himself to a good cigar, and watch the waves roll in and out. He’d earned it.
As John Walsh made the rounds of the talk shows in the following days, he was quick to point out that were it not for Joe Matthews, he would not be having those conversations, and he reiterated his praise for the retired homicide detective at the close