Page 31 of The Devil's Advocate

The streetlight didn’t gutter, but at once Korn was three or four feet from her, and then he wasn’t – he had snapped forward, like a bad cut in a movie reel that didn’t show him moving, or maybe a trick of the light that didn’t catch his step, but whatever it was, he was now suddenly towering over Patricia Dubois, his face inches from hers. He could smell the chemicals on her, the soap powder and cleaning fluids.

Each word he spoke sounded wet – something on the edge of each syllable, like honey laced with arsenic.

‘Do not be so hasty, Mrs. Dubois. Think on what I have said. Ican’tsave your son. Icanpromise him a quick death. And I can promise you enough money to bury him and clear your debts. The people of this town can be charitable and Christian to those who seek forgiveness. All I ask is one thing. You tell the truth. Tell us how Andy came home that night and told you he killed Skylar Edwards. Make sure he tells the same story to the jury. If he doesn’t, I can make both of you suffer. You think this is bad? It can get worse for you. It can get a whole lot worse for him. I’ll make sure Andy gets the needle. The good stuff. So he sleeps before they put the poison in his veins. If he doesn’t co-operate, we’ll be too short on drugs. It’ll be the chair for Andy. Think on it, Mrs. Dubois.’

Korn stepped back. Before he turned to his car he said, ‘Andy will die. The only question is how. Easy or hard? He can fall asleep, or he can die with his blood boiling in his veins. It’s your choice.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EDDIE

I watched Korn limp across the street to his car, leaving the woman on the sidewalk reeling. He got into his Jaguar. The car lit up.

A hand on the back of my head pushed me down. Bloch hunkered down too. Soon as Korn sped past in his car, she let me up.

Bloch opened the driver’s door and stepped onto the street, I opened the passenger door. Bloch shook her head, motioned for me to wait in the car.

That was probably wise. From the looks of the conversation Patricia Dubois just had with Korn, she didn’t need any more surprise meetings with strangers this evening. Two of us approaching her might be too much. Patricia was leaning against a street lamp, her head bowed, her back heaving air into her body. Korn had not physically touched her, but it looked as though she had been winded. Bloch approached her straight on, not wanting to startle the woman further.

As she got closer, Bloch slowed her approach, raised her open hands. Bloch used words like hundred-dollar bills. She didn’t give them out often, but when she did, they were worth every cent.

I stayed in the car. I wouldn’t get out until Bloch gave me the thumbs up.

Mrs. Dubois was talking now. Slowly. Struggling to get the words out while wiping her wet cheeks. Whatever Korn had said had shaken her to the core.

Bloch stood still, listening while Mrs. Dubois talked. Then, something happened that I didn’t expect. Mrs. Dubois stepped forward, threw her arms around Bloch. I’d never seen Bloch give anyone so much as a handshake. For a few seconds, Bloch froze, her arms outstretched, as if this was something that had never happened before. It was almost alien to her. Then, slowly, she embraced Mrs. Dubois as the woman cried onto Bloch’s shoulder.

I could almost sense Bloch’s discomfort, but she must’ve forced it down. This woman needed people to lean on, and not just because of her bad knee and swollen ankle.

I waited a few more minutes, then Bloch approached the car, her arm around Mrs. Dubois. I got out, opened the rear passenger door.

‘Mrs. Dubois, my name is Eddie Flynn.’

She released Bloch, took me in a hug. Damn, she was strong.

‘Mr. Flynn, Melissa told me you’re gonna help save Andy. For that I can’t never thank you enough. When Cody went missing, I prayed. I’ve been praying so hard for so long. I prayed for someone to come help us. Now I got you and Melissa.’

It was unusual to hear anyone calling Bloch by her first name. She didn’t use it. She was Bloch to everyone. Maybe she made an exception for women like Mrs. Dubois. She released me from the hug, but kept her hands on my shoulders while she looked at my face.

‘God sent you, Mr. Flynn. I know it.’

I didn’t tell her it was a corrupt government fixer trying to grow a conscience that had sent me. It just didn’t feel like the right time.

‘If I’m going to help Andy then I need you, Mrs. Dubois.’

‘I’ll do anything to get my boy home. Melissa said you saw him, in the cell. How is he? They won’t let me talk to him.’

I didn’t want to tell her. I couldn’t.

‘He’s holding up, Mrs. Dubois, but we need to get him out.’

‘That man, Mr. Korn. There’s something cold about him. Something old and bad that hangs around him like a smell. He’s evil. He wants to kill my Andy. Said if I made sure Andy plead guilty, he would see to it Andy died asleep, peaceful like. And if I didn’t, my boy … my boy would suffer somethin’ terrible.’

Mrs. Dubois’ eyes closed on fresh tears, and she doubled over. Bloch and I got her into the car, and we drove the six miles to Mrs. Dubois’ home. On the way I decided the stories about Korn’s obsession with the death penalty had more truth than I’d first thought. I also made a pledge – to myself. I wasn’t just going to get an acquittal for Andy.

One way or another, Randal Korn was going down.

For good.