The Night Stalker_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [113]
I held up my phone, and again hit play. A film of Jean-Baptiste Vorbe lying in a bed in the emergency ward at the hospital appeared. Pumped up with drugs, he had continued his confession when I’d arrived, and I had filmed it as well.
“When I called the police that morning, I asked for Detective Cheeks,” Vorbe said in his beautiful lilting voice. “At the store we gave free doughnuts to the police, and Cheeks often came in. He was bitter about being passed over for a promotion. I felt certain that he would take this case, and use it to make himself look good.”
“Tell me why you kidnapped Sampson,” I said in the background.
“I had to silence Abb,” Vorbe said matter-of-factly. “I delivered groceries to his wife’s house, and LeAnn and I were friends. When LeAnn told me Abb was going to let the FBI hypnotize him, I decided to kidnap his grandson.”
“You contacted a group of pedophiles online,” I said. “Why?”
“I knew Sampson, and what a problem he could be,” Vorbe said. “I needed help taking him from his bedroom, so I reached out to those men.”
“Did you plan to kill Piper Stone?” I asked.
“No. She came to my office, and asked a few questions. I saw her stiffen, and realized I had tripped up. So I strangled her, and threw her in the trash.”
“Is that when you decided to frame Jed?”
“Yes. It seemed an excellent time,” Vorbe said.
I folded my cell phone. The cell fell silent. Abb stared at me with his dead eyes. It was like he was there, only he wasn’t there. Father Kelly rose from the bench.
“Abb, do you understand what this means?” the priest asked.
“I was sleepwalking when I killed those women,” Abb said.
Father Kelly put his hands on Abb’s shoulders. “No, no, my son! You didn’t kill anyone. You were framed. You’re innocent.”
“What do you mean?” Abb said.
“The grocery store manager is the real Night Stalker, not you,” the priest said. “This has all been a terrible, terrible mistake.”
Abb swallowed hard. Then he looked at the warden.
“You still going to execute me?” Abb asked.
He doesn’t believe it, I thought. Not a single damn word. I guessed that was what happened when you robbed a man of his freedom. He stopped believing in the truth.
Warden Jackson rose, and put his hand on Abb’s shoulder. “On the contrary, Abb. We’re going to release you.”
“Release me?” Abb said.
“Yes,” the warden said. “I spoke to the governor earlier. He believes a terrible miscarriage of justice has taken place, and plans to sign the papers granting you your freedom once they reach his desk.”
“I’m going to go free?” Abb asked.
“Yes, Abb,” the warden said.
Abb closed his eyes, and for a moment I thought he was going to weep. Instead, he dropped to his knees, and went into a fetal curl on the concrete floor.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
They didn’t release Abb from prison right away. Too much had happened in the world during his twelve-year incarceration that Abb didn’t know about, and throwing him back into society was not in his best interests. Instead, the state moved him to a minimum security facility a few miles outside of Starke, and had counselors and psychologists work with him, and bring him up to speed. One day I read in the newspaper that he was finally going home.
Not long after, Jessie came to Fort Lauderdale for a basketball game, and decided to see Heather. She asked me to join her. I normally didn’t stay in touch with my clients after a case was closed, but the Grimes family was different, and I wanted to see how they were doing. I said yes, and Jessie and I drove over together.
The Grimes house looked different from the last time I’d seen it. The blinds were gone from the windows, and the “No Trespassing” signs removed from the lawn. I knocked on the front door, and Abb opened it. He’d put on a few pounds, and his hair was shorn and neatly parted. I shed the bag to show him the beer I’d brought, and his eyes lit up.
“Doesn’t that look good,