The Last Innocent Man

“So you can’t tell me what Gault said?” Conklin asked incredulously.

“That’s right.”

“How am I supposed to conduct an investigation if I don’t know what I’m investigating?”

“I can tell you information that doesn’t violate the confidence, and I’ll answer any questions I can.”

Conklin started to make a sarcastic remark, but he saw the pain on David’s face.

“Okay. I’ll play it your way. What can you tell me?”

“I’m upset because Larry Stafford was convicted.”

Conklin’s brow furrowed. “This is about the Stafford case?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“So Gault told you something about the Stafford case and you think he might be lying.”

David did not respond.

“I feel like I’m playing twenty questions.”

“Don’t stop. I feel as ridiculous as you do, but this is too important to screw up. I want you to be able to pass a polygraph test if a defense lawyer asks if I broke Gault’s confidence with you. Now, think about what you know.”

“You told me that you’re upset because Stafford was convicted, you want to know if Gault lied to you about something that probably concerns the Stafford case. I don’t get…”

Conklin paused. He studied David. In all the time he’d known Nash, he had never seen him looking like this. It would take something monumental to destroy his friend’s self-confidence. Conklin leaned forward and stared directly into David’s eyes.

“Gault told you he killed Darlene Hersch, and you want me to find out if he lied,” Conklin said. David did not move. Conklin slumped against the back of the booth.

“Have your secretary send me a retainer agreement setting out the terms of your employment,” David said.

4

Terry Conklin’s investigation started in the public library. There were numerous articles about Thomas Gault, because he was a famous writer. After Gault won the Pulitzer, The New York Times Magazine featured a cover story that gave a detailed account of his service as a mercenary in South Africa, Liberia, and several other African nations and included interviews with soldiers of fortune who had served with him. If Gault killed his wife, it would not have been the first time he had done in someone with his bare hands.

After the library Terry went to police headquarters, where he obtained copies of police reports of incidents involving Gault. Conklin expected the domestic-violence complaints filed by Julie Webster Gault, but he was surprised by several reports of assaults committed by Gault in bars, including a recent account of a fight at a dockside bar called The Dutchman. Terry noted with interest that the incident had occurred only days before his meeting with David. He also noted that the person who posted bail for Gault was none other than his new client, David Nash.

Conklin interviewed the bartender and another witness, who recounted Gault’s fighting skills and the impersonal way he had provoked the fight. Conklin ran down an ex-girl friend who was still afraid of Gault, even though she had not seen him in over two years. Two other women refused to talk to Terry.

Conklin was initially troubled by Detective Ortiz’s description of Hersch’s killer as having curly blond hair, but he remembered that Merton Grimes’s description of the killer’s hair would fit the way Gault had worn his hair when he was tried for Julie Gault’s murder. If Gault used a wig to disguise himself because of all the publicity his trial engendered, it would explain the differences in the descriptions of Hersch’s killer. Conklin also learned that Gault owned a beige Mercedes.

At the end of a week Terry Conklin was convinced that Thomas Gault could easily have killed Darlene Hersch, but he had absolutely no proof Gault even knew who the dead policewoman was. Conklin was reduced to following Gault in the hopes that his quarry would lead him to a witness or evidence that would help him solve David’s dilemma.

Each morning Conklin parked his car on a side road near Gault’s property and climbed a small hill, where he watched the house from a copse of trees. Conklin rarely observed any activity before ten, when Gault would leave the house for an hour-long run. Gault always looked as if he had broken a sweat before the run, and Conklin guessed the writer performed some kind of physical exercise before leaving the house.

Three times a week Gault worked out at a local dojo, where he received private lessons from the owner, a former instructor of unarmed combat for the South Korean Army. On the days he did not go to the dojo, Gault did not leave his house before midafternoon.