Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [52]
“I don’t think so. Even if he had, that doesn’t mean he’d kill her. Jeremiah is a handful, Mac, but he’s not a murderer.”
“You might be jumping the gun, Clarise. Questioning him doesn’t mean he’s a suspect. At this stage, the police will be wanting to talk to anyone who might have some information to help them.”
Her distress turned to anger. “What information could Jeremiah possibly have, Mac?”
“I don’t know, Clarise. Have you called an attorney?”
“I’m calling you. I deal with lots of lawyers, but none who handle criminal cases.”
“And I’m one of those who doesn’t, Clarise—at least not anymore. I’m just a college professor now. Remember?”
“Please, Mac. I don’t want to beg. Help me. I have my confirmation hearing coming up—Good God, it’s almost here—and—please!”
“I’ll call someone, Clarise.”
Although Smith hadn’t practiced much criminal law since resigning from his practice, he was still a member of the D.C. Bar, and active in its functions. Those times that he had heeded the call to action had been because of unusual circumstances, a friend in need, or a challenge too compelling to ignore.
“No, Mac, I want you to go. I know this is an imposition, and I wouldn’t think of dragging you away from Annabel, but—”
“Annabel’s out at a meeting.”
“Will you? I’m sure it won’t amount to much. Just say whatever it is you lawyers say and get him out of there.”
It was good that Smith’s sour expression couldn’t be seen over the phone line.
“Do you know where he’s being held?” he asked.
“Yes. First District headquarters, on Fourth Street, Southwest.”
“All right, Clarise. I’ll see what I can do. But I won’t go beyond this. My former law partners are the best in the city. I’ll put you in touch with them tomorrow. Does Senator Lerner know?”
“Yes. I reached him. He’s on some damn retreat in Virginia and said he couldn’t do anything until tomorrow afternoon. A big help.”
Smith let it pass.
“But he did say that he agreed with me about calling you. He’s always been impressed with you, Mac. He’s told me that on several occasions.”
“Are you at home?” Smith asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll call you there later.”
He considered after hanging up to attempt reaching one of his former partners to see if he’d handle matters that night, but decided that would be going back on his word to Clarise. There was also a current running through him that he recognized from previous calls to action. He didn’t miss being a criminal trial lawyer, and was quite content, thank you, teaching law, and being Annabel Lee-Smith’s devoted husband. But all the adrenaline hadn’t drained from him; he was still capable of feeling the rush of being needed by someone in the rough-and-tumble world of the criminal justice system.
He left Annabel a note, retrieved his car from the garage beneath the building, and headed southwest.
“THIS IS DETECTIVE KLAYMAN,” Hathaway told Smith. “The detective in with your client is Detective Johnson. They’re the ones who arrested him. Detective Johnson was the victim in the assault.”
“I understand there’s some question of you wanting to talk to him about the murder at Ford’s Theatre,” Smith said.
“That’s right,” replied Hathaway. “He hasn’t been designated a suspect. We just want to know whether he knew the victim, had dated her, and whatever else he might be able to provide.”
Smith said nothing as he stepped to the door and waited for Klayman to open it. Johnson and Lerner looked up at Mac’s entrance.
“This is Mr. Smith, the accused’s attorney,” Hathaway said.
Lerner’s puzzled expression indicated he had no idea who Smith was. Mac introduced himself: “I’m a friend of your mother,” he explained. “She asked me to represent you.” He said to the three detectives and the uniformed officer in the room, “I’d like some time alone with him.” He’d almost said “my client,” but caught himself.
“We’ll leave,” said Hathaway.
“No,” Smith said, nodding at the one-way window. “I mean alone. Could we use an empty office?”
“Your client’s already tried to get away, Counselor.”
“I assure you he won’t try again,” Smith said, fixing Lerner