The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [306]
“Now, now, Mrs. Hatch,” Mr. Maxon said, putting a hand to her arm. “I beg your pardon—Mrs. Hunter. Please, calm yourself.”
“Yes, do spare yourself the effort, Mrs. Hunter,” Mr. Picton said, without any trace of sympathy in his voice. “You’re not in court now, nor are there any members of the press lurking about. Your usual histrionics are not required.”
“Instead of being insulting, Picton,” Mr. Darrow said, crossing one leg over the other and then leaning back in his chair, “you might tell us what the hell it is you want.”
“Yes,” Mr. Picton answered, lighting his pipe with quick little moves of his arms and hands. “I don’t see that there’s any reason to beat around the bush.” Letting out big blasts of smoke, he sat forward. “The raspberry bush, to be precise, Mrs. Hunter—the one behind your family’s barn in Schaghticoke.” He opened his eyes a bit wider. “Or weren’t the bushes there when you were still living at home? No, I don’t suppose they would have been—too difficult to get under them to do all that digging. Still, they grow like weeds, do raspberries—quite tall, now. They almost hide the thing. Almost.”
Libby’s head had frozen, and her hands were clutching tightly at the arms of her chair. I could only see one of the golden eyes, but it had opened wide, wider than I’d ever seen before: wide enough to make me believe that for once she might have been truly surprised and at a loss.
“Picton,” Mr. Darrow said, scratching at his head and looking very annoyed, “have you taken complete leave of your senses, or does all this babbling actually mean something?”
But Mr. Maxon’s face revealed a very different kind of reaction; he may not’ve understood exactly what his opponent was talking about, but he obviously knew that the assistant district attorney didn’t spend a lot of time ranting pointlessly about nothing at all.
“Picton,” Mr. Maxon said quietly, “do you have new information you plan to introduce?”
Mr. Picton didn’t answer either of the questions, just continued to stare at Libby, his grey eyes turning that strange silvery color they did when he was excited. After a few seconds, he started to nod. “Yes, Mrs. Hunter. We’ve found them—your mother, and your brother Elijah. And, more importantly, we’ve found it, and heard the whole story.” This last statement contained a bit of a bluff, I knew—but all good lawyers know the value of a calculated bluff.
Libby continued to say nothing, causing both of her counsels to turn to her in some concern. “What’s he talking about?” Mr. Darrow said, his deep voice sounding like he, too, was beginning to suspect that Mr. Picton might have hold of something real.
Libby just kept staring silently at Mr. Picton; but she seemed to sense that he wasn’t the real cause of her predicament, and soon the golden eyes moved over to fix on the Doctor.
“Who—what in hell are you?” she near whispered, in a voice so icy-mean that it seemed to shock both Mr. Maxon and Mr. Darrow.
For his part, the Doctor just shrugged and stared back at the woman. “Only a man who knows what you are capable of, Mrs. Hunter. Nothing more.”
Growing very uneasy, Mr. Darrow stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. “All right, look—is somebody going to tell us what’s going on here, or not?”
“It’s fairly simple, Darrow,” Mr. Picton answered, finally looking away from Libby. “Though horrifying, in its simplicity. Ten years ago—I’m afraid I can’t give you an exact date, though we suspect it was in the spring—your client bore a child. An illegitimate child. She murdered it, and buried the body behind her family’s barn in a coffin that also contained the body of her dog. Which, I’m sure, she also killed, to provide a cover for the burial. We’ve seen the grave site, and have corroborating statements from members of her family. We’re prepared to discuss a deal.”
Mr. Darrow’s eyes went wide. “Well, of all the desperate, eleventh-hour tricks—”
He stopped as Libby silently raised a hand to him. “And if we don’t take your deal?” she asked.
“Then,