The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [307]
“He knew nothing about it!” Libby said without thinking.
Moving automatically, Mr. Darrow put a firm hand to his client’s shoulder. “Say absolutely nothing, Mrs. Hunter.” Satisfied that she would obey him, Mr. Darrow turned to Mr. Picton again. “Are you finished?”
“Yes, just about,” Mr. Picton answered.
Sitting back down and rubbing his furrowed brow, Mr. Darrow studied Libby’s face carefully for what seemed like a long time. There was obviously something there what he didn’t like, something what told him that maybe Mr. Picton wasn’t talking through his hat. “Hypothetically speaking,” Mr. Darrow said slowly, without turning away from Libby. “What kind of a ‘deal’ are you talking about?”
“We will reduce the charge in the current case to second-degree murder if she will change her plea to guilty.”
“And,” the Doctor added carefully, “contact her associates in New York tomorrow morning, and instruct them to release the child Ana Linares into our custody, when we return.”
Mr. Picton nodded. “In return, she receives a life sentence without the possibility of parole.”
Libby seemed like she was about to respond; but Mr. Darrow moved one of his big hands back to her shoulder. “Don’t say anything,” he told her again, even more firmly this time; then he glanced over at Mr. Picton. “Do you suppose Mr. Maxon and I could discuss this privately with our client—maybe have some time to think about it?”
“You can discuss it in this office for the next fifteen minutes,” Mr Picton answered. “That’s how long the deal’s good for. The Doctor and I will leave you.”
Rising, Mr. Picton nodded to the Doctor, who slowly followed him toward the door. Not wanting to get caught spying, I quickly slipped off Cyrus’s shoulders and jumped to the floor with a bump. When the door opened, I’d just managed to get myself upright again; and as the Doctor came out, he gave me a curious look what said he suspected I’d been up to something. When Mr. Picton closed the door, though, all attention turned to other subjects.
“Well?” Mr. Moore said; though I’d already told him and the others where things stood, I guess he figured he ought to observe the formalities.
“Well,” Mr. Picton echoed quietly in response, “I think we’ve got a very decent chance. She seems to be taking us quite seriously. I don’t think she wants to have her mother made aware of what her only daughter’s done with her life, or dragged into court to testify about an infanticide that took place right under her nose. The possibility of her brother’s being prosecuted seemed to strike a nerve, too.”
“There’s no reading the woman, though,” the Doctor added, considering it. “Something in her tone was—wrong. She was shocked, certainly, but—she doesn’t have the manner of someone who feels the trap closing. Not yet.”
“Maybe what you said is true, then, Doctor,” Lucius answered. “Maybe some part of her unconscious mind is drawn to the idea of prison.”
The Doctor shook his head quickly, struggling with something. “No, there was a different quality. I can’t quite define it. And I don’t think I’ll be able to. Not, at any rate”—he pulled out his watch—“for another fourteen minutes…”
Those fourteen minutes passed in almost complete silence. The three people in Mr. Picton’s office kept their voices very low, making it impossible for us to tell what they were talking about; and as for our group, I think we were all too nervous to speculate any further about what might happen. Both the Doctor and Mr. Picton checked their watches every minute or so, always breathing heavily when they found how little time had passed. Finally, though, the moment did come for them to head back into the office. Mr. Picton gave the Doctor a little nod of his head, and then he rapped on the door gently. Not waiting