Found Money - James Grippando [116]
He picked up the phone and dialed once again.
53
Ryan stopped for breakfast on the way home. After the blow-up with Amy, he wasn’t ready to deal with his mother. He pulled into C.J.’s Diner, a converted gas station that had become a popular spot for the most unhealthy Sunday breakfast around. The buttermilk biscuits alone were enough to make anyone forget there was more grease in this establishment now than when they were doing lube jobs. As usual, the line for a table stretched out the front door. Ryan was about to check on availability at the counter when his pager went off. He checked the number. It was Norm.
Ryan had to think for a second to remember where on the learning curve he had left his lawyer. Apart from this morning’s fax, they had talked by telephone last night, just after the discovery of the letter. That letter was the first time either of them had heard that the alleged rape victim was Marilyn Gaslow. Like the rest of the country, they had heard her name on television in connection with her recent appointment. Their interest, however, lay in a part of her life that wasn’t in the news. At least not yet.
Ryan went to a pay phone outside the restaurant and eagerly dialed the number.
“Did you get my fax this morning?” asked Ryan.
“Yeah. I’ll give some thought to a handwriting expert. But that’s not why I’m calling.”
“You find something on Gaslow already?”
“Plenty. First, the small stuff. Marilyn Gaslow is exactly your dad’s same age, lived near Boulder when he did. She went to Fairview High School, which was the other one in the area. It’s still conceivable they would have known each other, or at least met.”
“Which means she also could have known Kozelka.”
“That’s an understatement. Here’s the biggie: They were married.”
“What?”
“Joseph Kozelka is Marilyn Gaslow’s ex-husband.”
“How long were they married?”
“Long time. Tied the knot just two years out of high school. Lasted twenty-two years. Been divorced almost twenty.”
Ryan nearly burst through the phone. “This is it!”
“This is what?”
“The connection I’ve been waiting for. Marilyn Gaslow accuses my dad of rape. She marries a rich guy. Turns out the accusations are false. He has to pay. It means my dad is innocent!” He could have hugged his friend. “He’s innocent.”
Norm was silent. Ryan asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I just think the celebration is premature.”
“Norm, don’t deprive me of this.”
“Do you want my honest opinion or don’t you?”
“Yes. But all along, you’ve never wanted to even entertain the possibility that my dad was innocent.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is true. What are you—jealous that maybe now I’ll keep the money?”
“Ryan, I’m your friend.”
“Some friend. You of all people should know that innocent people do get convicted.”
“Not very often.”
“It’s possible.”
“In some cases, yes.”
“What the hell do you have against my father?”
“For God’s sake, Ryan! If your old man was innocent, don’t you think he would have looked you straight in the eye and told you?”
Norm’s voice slashed with a cutting edge, as if he were grabbing his friend and shaking him by the lapels. It was a heated moment that left them both cold.
“I’m sorry, Ryan.”
The phone was shaking in his hand. “No, you’re right. We need to think this through. There must be something we’re overlooking.”
“Well, we need to think fast. Agent Forsyth called me at home this morning. Now more than ever, the FBI wants our meeting to go forward tomorrow.”
“Let’s put that off. Just tell them I need a few days to bury my brother-in-law.”
“Any more stalling and Forsyth implied the U.S. attorney would initiate a forfeiture proceeding against the Panamanian account. That’s an added three-million-dollar headache we don’t need right now.”
“Who do they think I am, Al Capone?”
“No. But they don’t see you as the typical grieving family member, either. The FBI doesn’t normally get involved in murder cases. But when a witness is murdered and an attorney is beat up in a pattern of criminal activity that may include extortion and