“I’ll explain,” she said. “Right now, though . . .” She trailed off, her mind racing. There was something she was forgetting to check, something that had arrived recently.
Bolds! Video from the courtroom lobby!
That was it. After weeks of staying after them, the Office of Court Administration had mailed Aideen a tiny flash drive with time-stamped video on it from the day of Joe’s July 27 court date with Evan Bolds. It was still sitting in the unopened mail downstairs. Máiréad went to retrieve it while Aideen got her laptop ready.
Four minutes later, and after some back and forth with the keyboard controls, mother and child were watching the same thing over and over again. The video was a surveillance clip from the 111 Centre Street courthouse. The wall-mounted camera footage showed Joe and Ben Yang, fuzzy but recognizable, running to assist a woman in distress. The time was exactly 2:48 p.m., July 27, 2017. A few feet away was Evan Bolds, drawing a baggie from his slacks and deftly placing it into one of Joe’s accordion folders.
“O-M-G,” Máiréad said. “Like . . . O-M-G.”
“I know.” Aideen ran a hand through her hair. There were pillows and bedding everywhere. She was wearing an old T-shirt of Ben’s and granny panties. And Finster was acting like the world was ending. She needed to get organized. There was more to what was happening than just this series of revelations. The video was big news, but on its own, it could have waited for her to act on. It wasn’t even 7:00 a.m., and it was Labor Day.
She couldn’t wait, though. There was something else afoot; she could feel it. Bolds turning up dead was one thing, but Nate Porter being involved? The Nate Porter? Máiréad helped her make the bed and calm Finster. Then she sat dutifully next to Aideen, handing her notepads. At one point, she went downstairs to make coffee. By the time the coffee was ready, Aideen had it figured out. When Máiréad walked in with a mug for her and a glass of juice for herself, Aideen had four notepads spread out on the bed, all flipped to specific pages.
“What do we know?” Máiréad asked quietly. She hopped up on the bed and waited. Aideen had her reading glasses on, a little lower on her nose. In her gut was a glowing feeling of satisfaction, but also fresh anxiety.
“We know,” Aideen said slowly, “that Evan Bolds was part of setting Joe up, or at least making him think he was crazy. We also know that Evan Bolds is dead. It looks like he probably killed one guy first and was maybe trying to kill another man named Nate Porter when he died. That man, Nate, was someone Joe liked and was grateful for.” She looked over at Máiréad, unsure if she’d grasp it. “And someone whom his brother Robbie hated.” Máiréad seemed confused, waiting for an explanation. “The thing is,” she went on, “what does any of this have to do with Aaron Hathorne?”
“I was gonna ask that,” Máiréad said. “I think I’m a little behind, though.”
“I’ll catch you up, hang on.” Aideen shuffled through the notepads until she was able to compare what she needed. In one set of notes, about Joe’s recollection of his talk with Robbie at Midland Beach in Staten Island, she had written what Robbie had told him.
The light has been looking for you, little brother. You’re about to be blinded by it.
The other set of notes was from her visit to Dr. Hathorne at the St. Lawrence Psychiatric Center. She had taken note of a comment Hathorne had made because it sounded almost lyrical.
The light has found him. Soon, he’ll be blinded by it.
“That’s the link,” she said to Máiréad. “You see? It’s kind of a cryptic phrase, like a weird thing to say. And both of these men said it almost exactly the same way and about the same thing.”
“That’s not, like, courtroom proof, though, right?” Máiréad asked.
“No, not at all. And it could just be a coincidence, but . . . I don’t think so.”
“So you think this means that Joe’s brother was doing something bad for Aaron Hathorne? Maybe Evan Bolds too?”
“Yep,” Aideen said. “If I’m right, Evan Bolds has already paid for whatever he did. Now it might be Robbie’s turn. It’s Hathorne I really want to connect this to, though.”
“Wow. Do you think Robbie knows?”
“I don’t know. Someone with a badge needs to talk to him, though, preferably today. I’ll make a call in a few minutes.” She smiled and looked over at her daughter. “So do you think you want to do this for a living?”