Airtight by David Rosenfelt Page A

much.”
    “So what are you doing here?” I asked.
    “Checking on your progress, assuming you’re making some.”
    “It’s been one day,” I said.
    “You’ve only got seven.”
    “That’s not enough.”
    “On behalf of your brother, I’m sorry to hear that. Now tell me where you are.”
    I was having a tough time deciding how much to tell him, since at that point I didn’t even know enough to come up with a credible fake scenario. I decided to be as nonspecific as I could get away with.
    “There’s an entire task force working on this, though they are not aware of the situation with you and Bryan. We’re taking a two-pronged approach. We’re attempting to establish an alibi for Steven, trying to find out where he was at the time of the murder, and whether anyone can place him away from the scene.”
    “How is that going?”
    “We’re not there yet. But I have a proposition for you. I am willing to go on national television and say that Steven was innocent, that I shot the wrong man. And when Bryan is released, I won’t go back on that. I promise.”
    “No good,” he said.
    “Why not? It will clear Steven’s name in the eyes of the world. Isn’t that what this is about? You already believe in him; he doesn’t need to be cleared in your eyes, does he?”
    He ignored this. “You said two-pronged approach; what’s the other one?”
    “We’re trying to identify other suspects. These could come from defendants in Brennan’s courtroom who might have carried a grudge against him, or people with a reason to fear how Brennan might help decide cases before the Appeals Court.”
    Gallagher nodded, apparently agreeing with the approach. “And where are you on all that?” he asked.
    “We’re one day in, Gallagher. One day.”
    “It took less time than that for you to go after Steven,” he said.
    “We were there to question him, that’s all. He had a gun, and he raised it.”
    “That’s bullshit.”
    It hit me that Gallagher knew less than I had imagined. “He left a suicide note.”
    Gallagher reacted angrily. “Be careful, Luke. I am not someone you want to bullshit.”
    “I’m telling you the truth. It said that he couldn’t take it anymore. And he said, ‘Tell Chris I’m sorry.’”
    “Shut your mouth.”
    “So you’re better at telling the truth than hearing it? I can get the note and show it to you, if you’d like.”
    He was quiet for a few moments, sort of bowing his head. I couldn’t tell whether his eyes were open or not. The really unsettling thing was that I had no idea how he would react; he was a complete mystery to me. Bryan’s life would ultimately depend on whether I figured him out.
    When he finally spoke, it was softly, and the words did not seem to come easily. “He was scared. He was alone, and he was scared, and everything ahead of him seemed awful. But you made sure there was nothing ahead of him.”
    “That’s what Bryan is going through right now.”
    “It’s different for him,” Gallagher said. “He’s got someone to help him. Don’t blow it.”
    “Let him go, and I promise I’ll work just as hard to clear Steven.”
    He stood up. “Six days,” he said, and then left.
Lucas … I’m feeling OK … I’m comfortable. He’s got me chained, but I can get around, and there’s plenty to eat and drink. Can’t access the Internet, but obviously can e-mail. I have television, local NY stations, and it seems to be satellite, if that helps.
I watched a clip of you doing a TV interview … you might want to spend some time on the treadmill.
The idea of punching you in the face is what keeps me going.
Remember the time Dad took us to a Mets game for the first time and we were amazed at how green the grass looked? I’d sort of like to see grass again sometime.
Please get me out of here.

 
    Julie was right that reading about Chris Gallagher would not be fun.
    She had somehow gotten his service record, plus letters written about him by his commanding