The Last Innocent Man

Sunlight streamed through the glass wall of David’s bedroom, and he stretched. The warm morning sun made him feel lazy and relaxed. He opened his eyes. A bird was singing and he could see green pines profiled against a clear blue sky. He should have been elated. Instead, he felt a sense of loss. Nothing overwhelming, but real enough to put him off stride.

In the bathroom he splashed cold water on his face, brushed his teeth, and shaved. He returned to the bedroom and began to perform calisthenics in front of a full-length mirror. He enjoyed watching the play of his muscles as they stretched and contracted. When he broke a sweat, he did some stretching exercises to loosen up his legs. Then he slipped into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and laced up his running shoes.

David’s house was on a three-and-a-half-mile road that circled around the hill back to his front door. His morning run took him past sections of wooded area and other modern homes. There were a few other joggers out and he nodded at them as he went by. This run had become a daily routine for the past five years. His body had become a victim of the sedentary nature of the legal profession. Turning thirty had made him self-conscious about the softening process he was going through. So it was back to the weights and miles of jogging and an attempt to return to the muscle tone of his youth.

It was nine o’clock. He had slept later than usual, but that was okay. He had no court appearances and, at the moment, nothing very pressing to work on other than the Seals case.

Halfway around, David spotted a pretty girl running in front of him. She made him think of Valerie Dodge. Valerie had had a strange effect on him. Perhaps the mysterious way she had ended the evening was responsible for his desire. Perhaps it was the mixture of passion and reticence that had permeated their lovemaking. When they were in bed, she held him so tight; then, just when he thought she was giving herself completely, he would suddenly feel a tension in her that implied a spiritual withdrawal from the act. It had been confusing, yet entrancing, suggesting a mystery beneath the surface of the slender body he was holding.

David sprinted the final quarter mile to his house. He showered and dressed for work. He had decided that he could not wait for Valerie Dodge to call him. He was going to find her.

“BAUER CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS.”

“Joe Barrington, please.”

“Speaking.”

“Joe, this is Dave Nash.”

“Some party last night, Dave. Tell Greg thanks a million.”

“I’m glad it worked out all right.”

“The senator was really pleased.”

“Good. Look, Joe, the reason I called was for some information. You helped Greg draw up the invitation list for the party, right?”

“Sure. What can I do for you?”

“I met a woman at the party. Her name is Valerie Dodge. Tall, mid-twenties, blond hair. I promised I’d give her the answer to a legal question and I lost her phone number. I called information, but she’s not listed.”

“No problem. Give me a minute and I’ll get the list.”

“Dave,” Joe Barrington said a minute later, “doesn’t look like I can help you. There’s no one named Dodge on the list. Did she come with someone?”

“No. She was alone.”

“That’s funny. I’m certain everyone we invited was on the list. Of course, Greg might have invited someone on his own. Or the senator. Do you want me to check?”

“Would you?”

“No problem. It might take a few days, though. We’re all backed up here.”

“That’s okay. There’s no rush. She’ll probably call me in a day or so if she doesn’t hear from me.”

“Tell Greg thanks. Don’t forget. The senator’s going to drop him a line personally, but it might take him some time to get around to it.”

“I’ll tell him. Thanks again.”

David hung up and leaned back in his chair. No name in the phone book or on the list. Maybe Valerie Dodge wasn’t her right name. If she was married, she might have given him a phony. He had to see her again. The more mysterious she became, the greater became David’s desire. He closed his eyes and started thinking of ways to track her down. By lunchtime he still hadn’t thought of any.

ORTIZ HEARDRONCrosby enter his hospital room. He turned his head toward the door. It took a lot of effort to do even that. His twin black eyes and bandaged nose made him look like a boxer who had lost a fight. His head throbbed and his broken nose hurt even more.

“Ready to get back to work, Bert?” Crosby asked. Ortiz knew Crosby was just trying to cheer him up, but he couldn’t smile.

“Is she…?” Ortiz asked in a tired voice.

“Dead.”

Ortiz wasn’t surprised. No one had told him, but he knew.

“Can you talk about it, Bert?” Crosby asked. He pulled up a gray metal chair and sat down beside the bed. This wasn’t the first time he had been in a hospital room interviewing a witness in a homicide. He had been on the force for fifteen years, and a homicide detective for eight of those. Still, it was different when the witness was a fellow cop and a friend.

“I’ll try,” Ortiz answered, “but I’m having trouble getting it all straight.”