Clandestine

Canfield started to open his mouth, but Lorna spoke first in a voice that was all business: "Mr. Canfield is an attorney, Fred. He represents Mr. Winton." She hesitated, then said haltingly, "Mr. Canfield and I have worked together in the past. I trust him." She looked at Canfield, who smiled grimly.

"I'll be brief, Officer," he said. "My client was with Eddie Engels on the night Margaret Cadwallader was murdered." He waited for my reaction. When all he got was silence he added, "My client was with Engels all night. He remembers the date very well. August 12 is his birthday."

Canfield looked at me triumphantly. Winton was staring into his lap, kneading his trembling hands.

I felt my whole body go rigid with a pins-and-needles sensation. "Eddie Engels confessed, Mr. Canfield," I stated carefully.

"My client has informed me that Engels is a disturbed man who carries a great deal of guilt with him for certain events in his past."

Winton interjected: "Eddie is a troubled man, Officer. He was in love with an older man when he was in the navy. The man made him do awful things, and made Eddie hate himself for being what he was."

"He confessed," I repeated.

"Come, Officer. We both know that confession was obtained under physical duress. I saw Engels at his arraignment this morning. He has been severely beaten."

"He was restrained through force when he tried to resist arrest," I lied.

Canfield snorted. In different surroundings he would have spat. I met his contemptuous look with one of my own, then transferred it to Clark Winton. "Are you homosexual, Mr. Winton?" I asked, already certain of the answer.

"Freddy, goddamnit!" Lorna blurted.

Winton swallowed and looked to his attorney for support. Canfield started to whisper into his ear, but I interrupted them: "Because if you are, and you are planning to come forth with this information, the police will want signed statements regarding your relationship with Engels and a detailed account of your activities with him on the night of August 12. Are you prepared for that?"

"Eddie and I were lovers," Winton said calmly, with great resignation.

I gathered my argument and spat it out: "Mr. Winton, we have a signed confession. We also have eyewitnesses who will testify to having seen Engels's car on Harold Way on the night of the murder. You are opening yourself up to an accessory rap if you go public with your story."

Canfield eyed me coldly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lorna sitting rigid, fuming. "My client is a man of courage, Officer," Canfield said. "Edward Engels's life is at stake. Thad Green is an old friend of mine, as is the district attorney. Mr. Winton's affidavit will be delivered this afternoon. Mr. Winton realizes the police will have many questions for him; I will be present at the questioning. Mr. Winton is a prominent man; you will not beat any confession out of him. I came here to talk to you only because Lorna is an old friend and I respect her judgment of people. She told me you were concerned with justice, and I believed her . . ."

"I am concerned with justice, and . . ."

I couldn't finish. My resistance crumbled in a heap, and I felt my vision darken at the corner of my eyes. I picked up a heavy quartz bookend from Lorna's desk and hurled it at the glass part of her office door. The glass shattered outward and the bookend landed on the corridor floor with a loud bang. My hands were aching to hit something, so I mashed them together and closed my eyes, fighting tears and tremors. I heard Canfield say goodbye to Lorna, and heard footsteps as he ushered his client out the half-destroyed door.

"I believe Winton," Lorna said finally.

"So do I," I said.

"Freddy, Dudley Smith convinced the D.A. to let him head an investigation into a half-dozen unsolved homicides. He wants to pin them on Eddie Engels."

"Jesus, crazy Dudley. Is this guy Canfield a hotshot? He looks familiar."

"He's one of the finest, highest-paid criminal lawyers on the West Coast."

"And Winton has got money?"

"Yes, he's very wealthy. He owns two textile plants in Long Beach."

Still looking for outs, I persisted. "And Canfield is buddies with Thad Green and the D.A.?"

"Yes."

"Then Engels will go free and Dudley Smith and I will be up shit's creek without a paddle."

I looked through the gaping glass hole in the door, searching for something that would stop up the now-gaping hole in my life. "I'm sorry about the door, Lorna," was all I could think of.

Lorna pushed her swivel chair over to where I was sitting. "Are you sorry for Eddie Engels?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

Lorna kissed me softly on the lips. "Then let justice be done. It's out of your hands now."

I pushed Lorna away from me. I didn't want to believe her. "And what about Maggie Cadwallader?" I shouted. I turned around to look at the hole in the door. Three men in suits were looking in on us.

"You okay, Lorna?" one of them asked.

Lorna nodded. They departed, looking skeptical. I could hear glass being swept up.