sentence?”
“He was in Jackson for a while. Then when that got closed down, he ended up in Harrison.”
“You went down there to visit him.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know about Harrison,” I said, “but I’ve been in Jackson. There’s a big waiting room there, right? Lots of people waiting to see their loved ones?”
“Yes, with all the guards’ shooting trophies on display,” she said. “I guess that’s in case you’re getting any ideas about helping somebody escape.”
“I do remember that. But let me just ask you this. I don’t mean to be rude, and you can ask me to leave your house right now, but when you were sitting there with all those other family members, how many of them do you think believed their sons or fathers or husbands were guilty of the crimes they were convicted of?”
She thought about it for a second. “Not more than a few, I would think. I’m sure even if they knew their man was involved with something, it was probably all a big misunderstanding. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time or whatnot.”
“Exactly. And even those prisoners who were in the visiting room when you finally got in there to see Darryl … If you’d asked them, how many do you think would have told you they were innocent?”
“I know what you’re getting at, Alex. But to tell you the truth, Darryl never said anything one way or another about it. Not to me, anyway.”
“He never said he was innocent?”
“No,” she said. “Never once.”
“And he did confess to the crime. You realize that.”
She shook her head.
“Mrs. King,” I said, “I wasn’t there to see the confession, but I know for a fact that you were. You had to be, because he was a minor. Am I right?”
“I was there, yes.”
“So you heard him say that—”
“I don’t care what some detective made him say.”
I let out a long breath. I knew we could keep taking laps on this same track all afternoon, and we’d still get nowhere.
“He promised he’d look after his little brother and sister,” she said, finally looking away from me. The resolve in her voice was gone, replaced with what sounded like a hundred years of misery.
“Mrs. King…”
“He promised me, Alex. He never broke a promise. Not ever.”
I sat there and watched a tear run down her cheek.
“Now his little sister is dead from drugs. His little brother ran away not long after Darryl went to prison. I haven’t heard from him in years, so God knows if he’s even alive. I’ve got nothing left.”
“You have Darryl now. He’s coming home.”
“Most of his life is already gone,” she said, shaking her head. “How much bitterness is my boy carrying in his heart now?”
“Can I give you my phone number?” I said. “I mean, for any reason. If you want to call me, I’ll be there to listen.”
“You could do that, yes.”
I took out my wallet and found one of my old business cards. Prudell-McKnight Investigations, with the two guns pointed at each other, from back when I had a partner who really wanted to be a private investigator. Who lived to be a private investigator. I still had my license, technically speaking, but I never really wanted any part in the business. Now Leon Prudell was working at a microbrewery in Sault Ste. Marie, and I was back to renting out my cabins and occasionally getting into strange situations like this one.
I turned the card over and wrote down my cell phone number. I handed her the card. She took it without looking at it.
“Any reason at all,” I said. “If you call me, I’ll be there to listen. Just keep in mind, though, I don’t get very good cell phone service up there.”
“Up where, Alex?”
“I live in the Upper Peninsula. In Paradise.”
“That’s a long way from Detroit.”
“You said it, ma’am.”
She stood up slowly. She was wearing sandals, and you could see every year of standing and walking and hard work in her feet. She took the plate from me, put it on top of her
“He was in Jackson for a while. Then when that got closed down, he ended up in Harrison.”
“You went down there to visit him.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know about Harrison,” I said, “but I’ve been in Jackson. There’s a big waiting room there, right? Lots of people waiting to see their loved ones?”
“Yes, with all the guards’ shooting trophies on display,” she said. “I guess that’s in case you’re getting any ideas about helping somebody escape.”
“I do remember that. But let me just ask you this. I don’t mean to be rude, and you can ask me to leave your house right now, but when you were sitting there with all those other family members, how many of them do you think believed their sons or fathers or husbands were guilty of the crimes they were convicted of?”
She thought about it for a second. “Not more than a few, I would think. I’m sure even if they knew their man was involved with something, it was probably all a big misunderstanding. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time or whatnot.”
“Exactly. And even those prisoners who were in the visiting room when you finally got in there to see Darryl … If you’d asked them, how many do you think would have told you they were innocent?”
“I know what you’re getting at, Alex. But to tell you the truth, Darryl never said anything one way or another about it. Not to me, anyway.”
“He never said he was innocent?”
“No,” she said. “Never once.”
“And he did confess to the crime. You realize that.”
She shook her head.
“Mrs. King,” I said, “I wasn’t there to see the confession, but I know for a fact that you were. You had to be, because he was a minor. Am I right?”
“I was there, yes.”
“So you heard him say that—”
“I don’t care what some detective made him say.”
I let out a long breath. I knew we could keep taking laps on this same track all afternoon, and we’d still get nowhere.
“He promised he’d look after his little brother and sister,” she said, finally looking away from me. The resolve in her voice was gone, replaced with what sounded like a hundred years of misery.
“Mrs. King…”
“He promised me, Alex. He never broke a promise. Not ever.”
I sat there and watched a tear run down her cheek.
“Now his little sister is dead from drugs. His little brother ran away not long after Darryl went to prison. I haven’t heard from him in years, so God knows if he’s even alive. I’ve got nothing left.”
“You have Darryl now. He’s coming home.”
“Most of his life is already gone,” she said, shaking her head. “How much bitterness is my boy carrying in his heart now?”
“Can I give you my phone number?” I said. “I mean, for any reason. If you want to call me, I’ll be there to listen.”
“You could do that, yes.”
I took out my wallet and found one of my old business cards. Prudell-McKnight Investigations, with the two guns pointed at each other, from back when I had a partner who really wanted to be a private investigator. Who lived to be a private investigator. I still had my license, technically speaking, but I never really wanted any part in the business. Now Leon Prudell was working at a microbrewery in Sault Ste. Marie, and I was back to renting out my cabins and occasionally getting into strange situations like this one.
I turned the card over and wrote down my cell phone number. I handed her the card. She took it without looking at it.
“Any reason at all,” I said. “If you call me, I’ll be there to listen. Just keep in mind, though, I don’t get very good cell phone service up there.”
“Up where, Alex?”
“I live in the Upper Peninsula. In Paradise.”
“That’s a long way from Detroit.”
“You said it, ma’am.”
She stood up slowly. She was wearing sandals, and you could see every year of standing and walking and hard work in her feet. She took the plate from me, put it on top of her
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