The Last Innocent Man

“It’s just that you’re scared and cut off from your family and friends, and you’re confused and you want to know that someone is on your side. Well, I’m on your side, Larry, and so is your wife and Charlie Holt and a lot of other people.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s just so…so frustrating. I was sitting in my cell and thinking. I don’t even know how this happened.”

“It has happened, though. And that’s what we have to deal with. Can you tell me where you were on the evening of June sixteenth and the early-morning hours of June seventeenth?”

“Is that when the murder occurred?”

David nodded.

“What day of the week was that? A weekday or weekend?”

“June sixteenth was a Thursday.”

“Okay. Without my appointment book and talking with a few people, I couldn’t say for sure, but I probably worked at the office and went home.”

“How late do you usually work?”

“I put in pretty long hours. I’m still an associate at Price, Winward. Hoping to make partner pretty soon, but you know what that’s like. And I had a fairly complicated securities case I was working on about that time. I was probably at the office until seven at least. It could have been later. I really can’t say until I see my book.”

“Who would have that?”

“Jennifer. My wife.”

David made a note on a yellow lined legal pad.

“Let’s talk about you for a bit. How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Education?”

“I went to law school at Lewis and Clark,” Stafford said. David nodded. Lewis and Clark was a private law school located in Portland.

“I was back east for my undergraduate work.”

“Are you from the East Coast?”

“That’s hard to answer. My father was in the military. We traveled a lot. Then my folks got divorced, and I lived with Mom on Long Island, New York, until I went into the Army.”

“You were in the service?”

Stafford nodded.

“Was that before or after college?”

“After college and before law school.”

“Did you go to work for Price, Winward right after law school?”

“Yes. I’ve been there ever since,” Stafford said. David noticed something peculiar in the way Stafford answered, but he moved on.

“Larry, have you ever been convicted of a crime?”

“I had some trouble in high school. Minor in possession of beer. But that was cleared up.”

“I’m only interested in criminal situations after the age of eighteen where you were either found guilty by a jury or by a judge or pleaded guilty.”

“Oh, no. I never had anything like that.”

There was a knock on the door and the guard stuck his head in.

“He’s got to go to court soon, Mr. Nash.”

“How much time have I got, Al?”

“I can give you five minutes.”

“Okay. Just knock when you’re ready.”

The door closed, and David started collecting his material and placing it in his attache case.

“We’ll finish this later. I’ll meet you at the courthouse.”

“I’m sorry about that business before. About…”

David stopped him.

“Larry, you’re under more pressure now than I’ve ever been, and I think you’re holding up very well, considering. I’m going to try to find out what the DA has on you, then I’ll meet with you again and we’ll start plotting strategy. Try to relax as much as you can. This is out of your hands now, and there isn’t much you can do. So try not to brood about the case. I know that that’s impossible advice to follow, but you pay me to do your worrying, and you’ll be wasting your money if you do that part of my work for me.”

Stafford smiled. It was a broad, brave smile. He grasped David’s hand in a firm grip.

“I want to thank you for taking this case. I feel much more confident now with you on it. You’ve got quite a reputation, if you don’t know that already. And one more thing. I know you said it didn’t matter, and I believe you, but I want you to know that I am innocent. I really am.”

THE PHONE RANGjust as Monica was leaving her office. She hesitated for a moment, then answered it.

“Monica, this is Ron Crosby.”

“Oh, hi, Ron. I was just on my way up to arraign Stafford, and I’m going to be late. Can I call you back?”

“No. Hold on. This is about Stafford. Does he get out on bail today?”

“I talked it over with the boss, and we’re not opposing bail if David asks for it.”

“I see. Look, I may be onto something and…I don’t think he should be out.”

“Why not?”

“Do you remember when we were talking? We figured Stafford was getting a little on the side without risking the dangers and entanglements of an affair. So he picks up a prostitute and panics when he finds out she’s a policewoman.”

“That’s what I think,” Monica said. “His wife is the one with the money. If there was a divorce, it would hurt him more than her.”

“Right. That’s what everyone was thinking. We saw Darlene as a policewoman. But she was posing as a prostitute. Maybe she was killed because Stafford thought she was a prostitute.”

“I don’t get you.”

“I did some checking on Stafford. He’s never been convicted of a crime or even arrested for one, but I did come up with something. This isn’t the first time Larry Stafford’s had problems with a whore.”