“Stop. Could we stop, please, and just move on to how much of Mr. Hewitt’s information turned out to be correct?”
“Well, once we figured out that he had some names mixed up, it turned out he was right. That is to say, Paul Bressard wasn’t murdered and buried in the woods, but Bressard does admit to disposing of a body in the woods. And the body is indeed from down south—an American named Howard Matlock. So you see, Robert just kind of had things reversed.”
“Thank you, Detective. That’s extraordinarily helpful.” Brackett removed his glasses and polished them with the back of his tie, another gesture that emphasized his pure harmlessness. “Would it also be fair to say you wouldn’t have known about this murder without my client’s help?”
“Not exactly. It’s true he told us about it before we knew about it for ourselves, but we did hear of it from the person who found the body—part of it, anyway. But Robert also gave us the name of Paul Bressard, which made him a suspect sooner than he might have been otherwise. So all in all, yes, I would say he was very helpful and co-operative.”
“Thank you, Detective.” Brackett turned to the crown. “So, Mr. Rose, it would appear the Crown attorney’s office has a choice: it can throw the book at a mentally challenged young man, or it can offer a deal to an extraordinarily helpful citizen.”
Rose turned to Cardinal. “Do you have a suspect in the Matlock case?”
“Several individuals have our attention, but I couldn’t say any arrests are imminent.”
Rose raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness to Brackett. “You see? How helpful is that?”
“Let’s not play games, Mr. Rose. I didn’t come here to waste your time or the detective’s. Does this Crown attorney’s office want to encourage co-operation from defendants or not?”
“He pleads guilty to bank robbery, he does ten years.”
“Ten years for a toy gun and an IQ of seventy-eight? I’d rather take my chances at trial.” Brackett tossed his papers into his briefcase and snapped it shut. “He pleads to carrying a concealed weapon—even that’s a gift, since we’re talking about a toy. Two years less a day.”
Rose shook his head. “Let’s stay in the real world, shall we? Bank robbery, he does six years.”
Brackett turned to his client and shook his shoulder gently. “Robert?”
Hewitt sat up, blinking. “Oh, hi. I was just resting.”
“The Crown is offering six years. With good behaviour you’d be out in four.”
“Okay. That sounds good. Wow, I was having the most incredible dream, eh?”
As he was leaving, Cardinal had to endure a mini-lecture from Rose about the responsibility the police shared with the Crown to make sure criminals are adequately punished. “The police department,” he said, “is not a place for bleeding hearts. If you want to empathize, I suggest you become a social worker.”
Bob Brackett twiddled his fat fingers at Cardinal in the parking lot. Raindrops glistened on his scalp. Two uniformed cops were putting Robert Henry Hewitt into the back seat of a squad car. “Did Rose give you a lecture?”
“Sort of.”
“It hurts the poor fellow to give up such an easy case. Some people’s self-esteem depends on how many years they put people away for. It’s sad, in a way.”
The squad car pulled to a stop beside them and the rookie at the wheel said, “Customer wants to talk to you.”
“What’s up, Robert?”
“I just wanted to like thank you, eh? Thank you, thank you, thank you, Officer Cardinal. Mr. Brackett says you saved me like ten years off my life, and I won’t never forget it. Like never, never, never, eh? I don’t forget my buddies. No way.”
“Robert, the best way you can thank me is to stay out of trouble.”
“Oh, I will, eh? I’m gonna be so good they’ll have to send me back before I get there. Really, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
The last Cardinal saw of Robert Henry Hewitt, he was turned
“Well, once we figured out that he had some names mixed up, it turned out he was right. That is to say, Paul Bressard wasn’t murdered and buried in the woods, but Bressard does admit to disposing of a body in the woods. And the body is indeed from down south—an American named Howard Matlock. So you see, Robert just kind of had things reversed.”
“Thank you, Detective. That’s extraordinarily helpful.” Brackett removed his glasses and polished them with the back of his tie, another gesture that emphasized his pure harmlessness. “Would it also be fair to say you wouldn’t have known about this murder without my client’s help?”
“Not exactly. It’s true he told us about it before we knew about it for ourselves, but we did hear of it from the person who found the body—part of it, anyway. But Robert also gave us the name of Paul Bressard, which made him a suspect sooner than he might have been otherwise. So all in all, yes, I would say he was very helpful and co-operative.”
“Thank you, Detective.” Brackett turned to the crown. “So, Mr. Rose, it would appear the Crown attorney’s office has a choice: it can throw the book at a mentally challenged young man, or it can offer a deal to an extraordinarily helpful citizen.”
Rose turned to Cardinal. “Do you have a suspect in the Matlock case?”
“Several individuals have our attention, but I couldn’t say any arrests are imminent.”
Rose raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness to Brackett. “You see? How helpful is that?”
“Let’s not play games, Mr. Rose. I didn’t come here to waste your time or the detective’s. Does this Crown attorney’s office want to encourage co-operation from defendants or not?”
“He pleads guilty to bank robbery, he does ten years.”
“Ten years for a toy gun and an IQ of seventy-eight? I’d rather take my chances at trial.” Brackett tossed his papers into his briefcase and snapped it shut. “He pleads to carrying a concealed weapon—even that’s a gift, since we’re talking about a toy. Two years less a day.”
Rose shook his head. “Let’s stay in the real world, shall we? Bank robbery, he does six years.”
Brackett turned to his client and shook his shoulder gently. “Robert?”
Hewitt sat up, blinking. “Oh, hi. I was just resting.”
“The Crown is offering six years. With good behaviour you’d be out in four.”
“Okay. That sounds good. Wow, I was having the most incredible dream, eh?”
As he was leaving, Cardinal had to endure a mini-lecture from Rose about the responsibility the police shared with the Crown to make sure criminals are adequately punished. “The police department,” he said, “is not a place for bleeding hearts. If you want to empathize, I suggest you become a social worker.”
Bob Brackett twiddled his fat fingers at Cardinal in the parking lot. Raindrops glistened on his scalp. Two uniformed cops were putting Robert Henry Hewitt into the back seat of a squad car. “Did Rose give you a lecture?”
“Sort of.”
“It hurts the poor fellow to give up such an easy case. Some people’s self-esteem depends on how many years they put people away for. It’s sad, in a way.”
The squad car pulled to a stop beside them and the rookie at the wheel said, “Customer wants to talk to you.”
“What’s up, Robert?”
“I just wanted to like thank you, eh? Thank you, thank you, thank you, Officer Cardinal. Mr. Brackett says you saved me like ten years off my life, and I won’t never forget it. Like never, never, never, eh? I don’t forget my buddies. No way.”
“Robert, the best way you can thank me is to stay out of trouble.”
“Oh, I will, eh? I’m gonna be so good they’ll have to send me back before I get there. Really, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
The last Cardinal saw of Robert Henry Hewitt, he was turned
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