Peter Decker 3-Book Thriller Collection: False Prophet, Grievous Sin, Sanctuary

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Faye Kellerman

Год написания книги

2019

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“And you were sleeping there the night Lilah Brecht was raped.”

Totes didn’t answer right away. His fingers tightened around the rim of his hat. “Yessir.”

Decker assimilated Totes’s pause. “You were sleeping there all night?”

“Don’t you sleep all night, mister?”

Decker was impassive. “Were you sleeping there all night, Carl?”

Again, Totes hesitated. “Yessir.”

Two pauses within a minute of each other. Was he that slow a thinker or was he formulating consistent lies?

Decker said, “What time did you go to bed that night, Carl? When did you stop working and go into the stable?”

“’Bout eight-thirty. Gets dark ’round then.”

“You went into the stable around eight-thirty?”

“Yessir.”

Decker stood and leaned against the table. “Okay, Carl, you went into the stable around eight-thirty. Did you leave the stable the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”

Totes shook his head.

Decker said, “I need a yes or no answer, Carl. Tape recorder won’t pick up a headshake. Did you ever leave the stable the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”

“Nossir, I never left the stable.”

“Not once?”

“No.”

Decker walked slowly from one side of the room to the other, then back again. He sat on the table, facing Totes, and frowned. “Carl, I’m confused about something. How do you explain your hair on Lilah Brecht’s sheets?”

Totes was quiet.

“Carl?”

“I … I don’t know nothin’ ’bout that.”

Decker sighed. “See, Carl, your hair was found on Lilah Brecht’s sheets. How do you explain that?”

Totes shook his head, his expression was pained.

Decker said, “You don’t have any idea how your hair was found on Lilah Brecht’s sheets?”

“Nossir.”

“Well, Carl, if you didn’t visit her the night she was raped, maybe you visited her the night before …”

Totes looked up. “I don’t get what you’re asking me.”

“Have you and Lilah ever had sex, Carl?”

Totes turned angry red. “That’s a turrible question.”

“I’ve got to ask you these questions, Carl. Have you and Lilah ever had sex?”

“Nossir!”

Decker ran his hands through his hair. “Now, you got me confused again, Carl. If you’ve never had sex with Lilah, how’d your semen get on her sheets?”

Totes was still scarlet. “Like you said, mister, you’re confused. So why should I answer your questions, if you don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about?”

Totes folded his hands across his chest, his mouth hardening. Decker appraised him. Totes was the kind of guy who mistook soft-spokenness for weakness. Decker liked the good-cop approach to questioning, but it wasn’t going to work here. Time to shift gears.

“Carl, you said you were in the stable the entire time on the night Lilah Brecht was raped.”

“Yessir.”

“The entire night.”

“Yessir.”

“You never left once?”

“Nossir.”

“Not to go to the bathroom?”

“Nossir, I got a horse’s bladder.”

Marge tried to stifle a smile, but was only partially successful. Decker said, “So you never left the stable that night. Not even once?”

“No … nossir.”

“Carl, how did your hairs get on Lilah Brecht’s sheets?” Decker kept his voice even. “How did your semen get on her sheets?”

“I … I don’t … I—”

“Carl, where were you the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”

“In the stable.”

“C’mon, Carl, stop giving me a hard time. Tell me, how did your semen get on Lilah’s sheets?”

Totes squeezed his hat until his knuckles turned white. “I didn’t rape her.”