He was seated at a plain wooden table, his hands clasped neatly in front of him, dressed in a plaid shirt, khakis, and loafers without socks. The room was a small library, like one found in a law office, with book stacks, a copier, and some office supplies on a table. For a fleeting moment she pictured the Hannibal character from The Silence of the Lambs and wondered how many things in the room Hathorne could kill her with. That passed.
“Hello, Ms. Bradigan,” he said, looking up at her as she walked in. His speech was soft but clipped and clear, the diction of a well-educated person. He stood to his full height, which was a good foot or more above Aideen’s. He was whippet thin and wiry, with long hair, gray and gathered around a narrow face.
“Aideen Bradigan, yes,” she said. He motioned to an empty chair opposite him, then offered his hand. He seemed hesitant, as if he expected her to reject the gesture. Instead, she thought, I guess if I’m going to feel creeped out, this is how it’ll happen. She shook his hand firmly, and it went limp like a damp rag. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but it didn’t sick her out either. So the guy had a terrible handshake? That was the least negative thing about him.
“Please, sit down,” he said, doing so himself. She set her briefcase on the table. Opening it, she pulled out a legal pad, a pen, and some notes she had taken previously.
“Thanks for agreeing to speak with me, Dr. Hathorne,” she said. “I’ll try to make this quick.”
“I’ve got nothing but time, Ms. Bradigan,” he said, a little grin turning up the corners of his mouth. The lips were thin and purplish. “But I won’t blame you if you don’t want to linger in my company.”
“I’ve met all kinds,” she said, a breezy quip relayed with an elevated tone and a jaunty lift of one shoulder. Neither damning nor affirming, it was exactly the tone she wanted to convey.
“And you’re wondering if I’m the kind who could destroy Joseph DeSantos with some astonishingly elaborate scheme from behind these walls.”
“I’m just gathering information that might be relevant.”
“And what could I possess that’s relevant? DeSantos is a serial murderer with volcanic rage impulses. It’s simple.”
“I’m not sure it’s simple, actually. That’s why I’m here.”
“Well, it’s no inconvenience to me,” he said, lifting his right hand a few inches and then flipping it, palm up, “but I can assure you, I am not relevant to what’s wrong with your client. If you want ideas, I could offer a few. I’ve forgotten more psychology than the people who try to treat me here. But I’m guessing you’re well advised.”
“Well, you sued my client, Dr. Hathorne. Far more than that, you made attempts at uncovering facts about his personal life. Serious attempts, and some were successful.”
“And I never,” he said, leaning forward, “thought I’d uncover what DeSantos has now exposed about himself.” His eyes widened a little, and she almost nudged her chair back.
“The lawsuits were all nuisance suits,” she said. “You also have access to money, money you’ve used to interfere with Mr. DeSantos’s life. Maybe worse. You’ve got to acknowledge that.”
“What if I do? I’ve sued plenty of people, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Yes, pretty much everyone who’s been involved in your life professionally,” Aideen said.
“Which suggests even less of a motive on my part to somehow create a far-reaching conspiracy against Joseph DeSantos involving murder. As you can see, I’m an equal-opportunity legal bully. I have used the system that’s been stacked against me for two decades. I’ve used it as liberally as it’s been used against me. DeSantos was a bitter drunk whom I went after because I found it worthwhile. He’s now revealed himself to be a monster. That has nothing to do with me. And quite frankly it doesn’t concern me either.”
“He broke you, though,” Aideen said at low volume and then wondered if she should have. But it was out, and Hathorne seemed unmoved. “The process that put you in here after so many years in prison—I think it pulled you apart. I think you’ve been focused on DeSantos since then.”
“I was broken long before that dispositional hearing, but perhaps that kind of thuggish, police-like braggadocio is what DeSantos engaged in, with you and others? You worked with him, after all.”
“I’ve been studying up on you, Dr. Hathorne. I don’t mean any disrespect, and I really don’t judge, but I think maybe there’s something you could add as far as what’s happened to Joe. You don’t have to have been behind anything. Maybe you just know something about it.”