Hard news - Jeffery Deaver [27]
“A man who got wrongly convicted.”
Boggs smiled an interstate cloverleaf into his face. “You got some good lines. I like that. Yeah, that’s a role I’ve been acting for a long time. Nobody’s bought it yet.”
“I want to get you released.”
“Well, miss, seems like we’ve got a lot in common.” He was definitely warming up to her.
“I talked to Fred Megler—”
Boggs nodded and his face showed disappointment but not anger or contempt. “If I had money to hire me a real lawyer, like those inside traders and, you know, those coke kingfishers you see on TV, I think things might’ve been different. Fred isn’t a bad man. I just don’t believe his heart was in my case. I reckon I’d say he should’ve listened to some of my advice. I’ve had a little experience with the law. Which I’m not proud of but the fact remains I’ve seen the inside of a courtroom several occasions. He should’ve listened to me.”
Rune said, “He told me your story. But I knew you were innocent when I saw you.”
“When would that’ve been?”
“On film. An interview.”
The smile was now wistful. He kept evading her eyes, which bothered her. She believed this was shyness, not guile, but she didn’t want shifty eyes on tape.
Boggs was saying, “I appreciate your opinion, miss, but if that’s all you have to go on I’m still feeling like a six-ounce bluegill on a twenty-pound line.”
“Look at me and tell me. Did you do it or not?”
His eyes were no longer evasive; they locked onto hers and answered as clearly as his words, “I did not kill Lance Hopper.”
“That’s enough for me.”
And Boggs wasn’t smiling when he said, “Trouble is, it don’t seem to be enough for the people of the state of New York.”
TWO HOURS LATER RANDY BOGGS GOT TO: “THAT’S WHEN I decided to hitch to New York. And that was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“You were tired of Maine?”
“The lobster business didn’t work out like I’d hoped. My partner—see, I’m not much for figures—he kept the books and all this cash coming in didn’t no way equal the cash going out. I suspicioned he kept the numbers pretty obscured and when he sold the business he told me he was letting it go to a couple creditors but I think he got paid good money. Anyways, I had me maybe two, three hundred bucks was all and two new pair of jeans, some shirts. I figured I’d be leaving that part of the country before another winter come. Snow belongs in movies and in paper cones with syrup on it. So I begun thumbing south. Rides were scarce’s hens’ teeth but finally I got me some rides and ended up in Purchase, New York. If that isn’t a name I don’t know what is.” He grinned. “Purchase … It was raining and I had my thumb out so long it was looking like a bleached prune. Nobody stopped, except this one fellow. He pulled over in a—we call them—a Chinese tenement car. Big old Chevy twelve or so years old—you know, could ride a family of ten. He said, ‘Hop in,’ and I did. Biggest mistake of my life, miss. I’ll tell you that.”
“Jimmy.”
“Right. But then I told him my name was Dave. I just had a feeling this wasn’t a person I wanted to open up with a real lot.”
“What happened after you got in?”
“We drove south toward the city, making small talk. ‘Bout women mostly, the way men do. Telling how you get put down by women all the time and how you don’t understand them but what you’re really doing is bragging that you’ve had a ton of ‘em. That sort of thing.”
“Where was Jimmy going? Further south?”
“He said he was only going so far as New York City but I was thankful I was getting a ride at all. I figured I could buy a Greyhound ticket to get me on my way to Atlanta. In fact I was thinking just that very thing when he looks over at me in the car and says, ‘Hey son, how’d you like to earn yourself a hundred bucks.’ And I said, ‘I’d like that pretty well, particularly if it’s legal but even if not I’d still like it pretty well.’
“He said it wasn’t