prison? Who will die at the hands of the state? For any prosecutor, Drew Elliott would be a juicy target, but for a man like Shad Johnson—a man who dreams of being governor and more—Drew is a prize elephant.
There’s no doubt that Drew would look better to a future jury if he told the truth now. But what other consequences might result? Natchez is a small town, and when small-town cops are handed a likely suspect, they don’t look too hard for another. Truth be told, city cops aren’t much different. And confessing to the affair with Kate would immediately open Drew to a sexual battery charge that Shad could use to jail him, should he choose to. No, better to keep my cards close to the vest.
“That’s a lot nicer desk than the one the last D.A. had,” I observe, stalling for time as I take the chair opposite Shad.
The district attorney can’t help but brag; it’s his nature. “I got it out of storage from the old Natchez Museum,” he says, rubbing the finely grained wood. “It came from the attic of one of the antebellum homes. Longwood, I think. Ironic, isn’t it? Me working at a cotton planter’s desk? I had it appraised. It’s worth sixty grand.”
I give Shad a level gaze. “I hope you’re not one of those people who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.”
Shad’s eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Penn? Where’s Dr. Elliott?”
“He had an emergency at his office. He had to stay and handle it.”
“Bullshit. Your client’s scared. His dick’s got him tangled up in a capital murder case, and he’s terrified.”
Shad must have more than the anonymous call in his pocket. “How do you figure that?”
“Did Elliott tell you about the call I got this morning?”
“He said you mentioned an anonymous caller who told you some story about him being intimate with Kate Townsend.”
“That’s right. And the good doctor did not deny it.”
“Did he confirm it?”
“That’s what this meeting was for. For him to confirm or deny. Now he’s sent you in his place. The big-time mouthpiece. I didn’t think you practiced anymore.”
“I wasn’t practicing when I took the Del Payton case either.”
Shad looks like he just bit into something sour. My punishing Del Payton’s murderers after Shad had resisted reopening the case cost him just enough support in the black community to take the mayoral election away from him. But that’s old news. I’ve got to get a handle on his present intentions before I paint myself into a corner.
“Shad, let’s—”
“Stop,” he says, jabbing a forefinger at me. “You’re here because you want something.”
He’s right. “I would like to know what was discovered during Kate’s autopsy.”
Shad studies me for several moments. “And you think I’m just going to give that to you?”
“If you continue to pursue my client, I’ll get it one way or another. Why don’t we try to foster a spirit of cooperation here?”
“You haven’t done any cooperating with me so far.” He lifts a sheaf of fax paper off his desk and flips to the last page. “But I’m feeling generous. What do you want to know?”
“Time of death?”
Shad shakes his head. “We’ll pass on that for now.”
“Cause?”
“Strangulation. There was also head trauma that might have killed the girl if she hadn’t been strangled first.”
“Interesting. There are rumors going around town about rape. Nurses at the hospital did some talking. Was the girl raped or not?”
“The pathologist says she was.”
“Genital trauma?”
Shad nods slowly.
“Did they recover semen from her?”
“Affirmative. Both holes.”
His crudeness is meant to shock, but I saw too much rape and murder in Houston for this to bother me. “So, the killer had some time with her.”
Shad shakes his head, a strange smile on his face. “Not necessarily. The pathologist already ran serology on the semen samples. They came from two different men.”
A glimmer of
There’s no doubt that Drew would look better to a future jury if he told the truth now. But what other consequences might result? Natchez is a small town, and when small-town cops are handed a likely suspect, they don’t look too hard for another. Truth be told, city cops aren’t much different. And confessing to the affair with Kate would immediately open Drew to a sexual battery charge that Shad could use to jail him, should he choose to. No, better to keep my cards close to the vest.
“That’s a lot nicer desk than the one the last D.A. had,” I observe, stalling for time as I take the chair opposite Shad.
The district attorney can’t help but brag; it’s his nature. “I got it out of storage from the old Natchez Museum,” he says, rubbing the finely grained wood. “It came from the attic of one of the antebellum homes. Longwood, I think. Ironic, isn’t it? Me working at a cotton planter’s desk? I had it appraised. It’s worth sixty grand.”
I give Shad a level gaze. “I hope you’re not one of those people who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.”
Shad’s eyes narrow. “What are you doing here, Penn? Where’s Dr. Elliott?”
“He had an emergency at his office. He had to stay and handle it.”
“Bullshit. Your client’s scared. His dick’s got him tangled up in a capital murder case, and he’s terrified.”
Shad must have more than the anonymous call in his pocket. “How do you figure that?”
“Did Elliott tell you about the call I got this morning?”
“He said you mentioned an anonymous caller who told you some story about him being intimate with Kate Townsend.”
“That’s right. And the good doctor did not deny it.”
“Did he confirm it?”
“That’s what this meeting was for. For him to confirm or deny. Now he’s sent you in his place. The big-time mouthpiece. I didn’t think you practiced anymore.”
“I wasn’t practicing when I took the Del Payton case either.”
Shad looks like he just bit into something sour. My punishing Del Payton’s murderers after Shad had resisted reopening the case cost him just enough support in the black community to take the mayoral election away from him. But that’s old news. I’ve got to get a handle on his present intentions before I paint myself into a corner.
“Shad, let’s—”
“Stop,” he says, jabbing a forefinger at me. “You’re here because you want something.”
He’s right. “I would like to know what was discovered during Kate’s autopsy.”
Shad studies me for several moments. “And you think I’m just going to give that to you?”
“If you continue to pursue my client, I’ll get it one way or another. Why don’t we try to foster a spirit of cooperation here?”
“You haven’t done any cooperating with me so far.” He lifts a sheaf of fax paper off his desk and flips to the last page. “But I’m feeling generous. What do you want to know?”
“Time of death?”
Shad shakes his head. “We’ll pass on that for now.”
“Cause?”
“Strangulation. There was also head trauma that might have killed the girl if she hadn’t been strangled first.”
“Interesting. There are rumors going around town about rape. Nurses at the hospital did some talking. Was the girl raped or not?”
“The pathologist says she was.”
“Genital trauma?”
Shad nods slowly.
“Did they recover semen from her?”
“Affirmative. Both holes.”
His crudeness is meant to shock, but I saw too much rape and murder in Houston for this to bother me. “So, the killer had some time with her.”
Shad shakes his head, a strange smile on his face. “Not necessarily. The pathologist already ran serology on the semen samples. They came from two different men.”
A glimmer of
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