Page 122 of One of Us Is Guilty

He had lowered his voice, looked me in the eye as he spoke.

I said nothing for a moment. Then smiled.

‘You almost had me going there, Larkin. How about this? If I don’t make a phone call to Harry Ford in the next thirty minutes, he serves that photograph on the court, and the DA, and I ask you on the witness stand why you were accepting a suspicious package from the employee of the father of the only other viable suspect in a murder you were investigating?’

Larkin stared at me for a second, took another sip from his soda.

‘Good,’ I said, ‘I’m glad we’ve cleared that up. First thing I want to know is, what was in the package you got from Dekker?’

‘You don’t know?’

I had no idea what the hell was in that package.

‘Of course I know,’ I said, ‘I just need to hear it from you. You need to trust me, and I need to trust you. Or one of us might be going to jail and it’s not going to be me.’

Larkin’s head fell forward, he grunted, then sat up again and put more chips in his mouth.

As he chewed, he said something that I didn’t really catch, and then, ‘. . . and fifty Gs.’

‘Fifty grand, was that a down payment or the full amount?’

‘Half. I got another fifty when we indicted the wife.’

‘And what was the first thing you’d told me was in the package? I couldn’t make out what you’d said.’

He took another slurp from his soda, smacked his lips then said, ‘Molly Green’s journal.’

‘What’s in the journal?’ I asked.

‘She was playing a part. Molly Green was a false identity. This woman was lying to everyone to get close to Patrick Vanderpool.’

‘Why’d Dekker give you the journal? Surely that’s motive for Patrick. Why the hell would they give that to the police?’

He leaned back, took a long drink from the straw until he was slurping at nothing but air. Then put it down and said, ‘Dekker chose me. He knew I was a good cop, at heart. Yeah, I might have lost my way, lost some evidence here and there when it suited me, but I wasn’t going to cover up the murder of an innocent girl even if it was for a hundred K. He wanted me to know Molly wasn’t innocent. He told me to read the journal, that I’d see she was deranged, cunning and dangerous too. She was gearing up to kill somebody, so I figured it did no harm to make sure I was protecting the right people. The real victims.’

‘Patrick Vanderpool is a victim?’

‘He could’ve been, if this crazy chick had gotten her way. He told me to focus on the wife, Vanessa. That she’d taken matters into her own hands with Molly. That she was the real killer. And that in the investigation we should keep quiet about who Molly really was, that exposing her would only make things complicated for Patrick and his run for governor. He told me to read the journal, and then burn it after.’

‘And did you?’ I asked.

‘It’s in the glovebox of my car. I figured it was an insurance policy. That if I ever needed a favor from the new governor I could use it.’

‘The journal is in your pocket,’ I said.

He stared at me.

‘I patted you down too. Give it to me.’

‘Why should I?’

‘I want to make sure you’re not lying to me. I can hurt you with that photo, remember?’

He reached into his coat pocket, hesitated. His eyes roamed the room while his mind wandered. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but, whatever it was, he was struggling with it. Either he was wondering how much damage I could cause him with that photo, or maybe something else. The photo alone would just be the starting point for Internal Affairs. It wouldn’t take them long to look into his investigation and his finances. Cops are shit at hiding dirty money. But right then I wasn’t a hundred per cent sure that self-preservation was the only thing on his mind.

Cops don’t start out dirty. Some join up because it’s in their blood – long family lines of blue-blood cops. Some join up for the pay and the pension and the job security. It’s rare for cops to get laid off in this city. For a few, a section of recruits, they join for one of two reasons. Either they just want the power from the uniform, or they want to do some good – they want to help people and put away bad guys.

I wondered, just for a second, why Larkin joined the force. His early career was stellar, and he could have been one of those golden cops. He took out the journal and placed it on the table in front of me beside my soda.