“It’s sad. Joe is what you would call a functioning alcoholic. That means he can hold a job, but he is drunk a lot. I mean, like, out of it for a day or two at a time. So I need to figure out where he might have been if he wasn’t at these crime scenes. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out, but I have to try.”
“Okay. But if you start to think he did do it, what will you do?”
“I’ll defend him anyway. You know that’s how it works, right? I’m his lawyer now. I’m stuck with him.”
“What if he tells you he did it?” she asked, her eyes widening. It was like she was commenting on one of the Twilight movies. Good to know she’s still a teenager under there, Aideen thought.
“If he tells me he did it, then I can’t put him on the witness stand, since I know he would lie under oath. I would still have to try to stop the prosecutors from doing their job, though.”
“I don’t think Dad would see it like that.”
“Dad was a cop; it’s different.”
Máiréad nodded and seemed to accept this. “So this old guy,” she said, looking at a printout of a security photo of Aaron Hathorne, “he’s the pedophile guy?”
“Yes.”
“So if there was some setup, you think he’s the person behind it?”
“Maybe. Yeah.”
“And these guys,” she said, pointing to a list of names Aideen had scribbled in one of the five or six legal pads on the bed, “they used to work for Mr. Hathorne?”
“Dr. Hathorne, yes. They were investigators who worked for him.” Aideen knew this because she had started her investigation at the AG’s office. The office had several files on Aaron Hathorne, including a big one about how his legal team and investigators had gone after Joe DeSantos over the past two years. Craig Flynn had made sure that Aideen had access to all this information.
“You’re gonna try to talk to them, then?”
“I’ll try. Not sure if they’ll talk to me, though.”
“Were they cops once?” she asked. “’Cause if they were, I’ll bet they don’t like him.”
Aideen looked over her glasses at her daughter. She was impressed. “Yeah, probably. That’s a good point.”
“Dad said a lot of retired cops become private investigators. You should tell them Dad was a cop. If they were city cops, maybe they knew him.”
“Well, let’s not use your dad’s memory that way,” Aideen said, although that was exactly what she planned to do once she knew more about the backgrounds of the investigators.
“Dad was smart,” Máiréad said. “He’d want us to be smart too.” Her eyes softened. She was probably tired—it was nearly midnight—but she was getting a little misty also.
“We’ll be smart,” Aideen said. She stroked her daughter’s hair and smiled. “It’s time for bed. And if there are nightmares because of this, no whining!”
“I don’t get nightmares,” Máiréad said flippantly, like it was just a plain fact. She noodled for a moment with Finster, then hopped off the bed with a nimble, balletic twist of her legs. Aideen was amazed by how dexterous her daughter was, how effortlessly graceful. And she would never appreciate it at her age.
“I love you, Máiréad.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
“Check on your brothers.”
CHAPTER 49
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Anna M. Kross Center, Rikers Island
East River in the Bronx
9:24 a.m.
Bleach and shit were the two paramount scents of his environment. Joe had no idea those two things could coexist in an atmosphere, but that was the daily perfume. He no longer smelled them, really, but he noticed their absence as he rounded the corner, the walls changed color from gray to green, and he was led to the attorney consult area, where Aideen was waiting for him, her briefcase at her feet.
“I can’t believe you went up there,” he said, sitting down. They had spoken over the phone about her field trip to see Aaron Hathorne.
“Eh, he’s not as creepy as I thought he’d be.”
“I don’t want you anywhere near him. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Relax, I know where they keep him,” she said. “Listen, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay. I was wondering why you insisted on an in-person visit. Is there a plea offer or something?”
“No,” she said. There was a bit of a sardonic look on her face, but she wasn’t smiling. “I’ve been doing some digging. Internet searches. Some criminal databases.”