I sat at the curb at the end of the ramp and tried to think. Lamont had flipped on Sawyer—Dornick said that—and Johnny had been furious and killed him, or Curtis killed him for Johnny, and they’d disposed of the body.

Make my day, one of you, make my day. Tell me what happened. I couldn’t imagine a threat or a bribe that would make either Dornick or Alito open his secret diary to me. I didn’t have an in with the state’s attorney, to offer Merton immunity or even a reduction in sentence for talking to me. And, even if I did, Merton still might not talk to me.

Maybe Judge Coleman would explain why he hadn’t called any witnesses when he’d represented—or misrepresented—Sawyer forty years ago. Maybe there had been damning evidence that he kept out of the trial. I looked up the number for the Cook County judges and called Coleman.

Naturally the judge wasn’t available for my call. A clerk said she’d be glad to take a message, in a voice that sounded like she’d be glad if she never used her telephone again. I wanted just to leave my name and number, but the clerk wouldn’t take a message unless I explained my business in some detail. I used to work for the judge, I said. I wanted to go over an old trial, one that dated to his early years in the PD’s Office. I left my number without any expectation of ever hearing from him.

I’d pulled off the road at 103rd Street. Pullman was just a few miles to the east. Maybe Rose Hebert could shed some light on all these players.

18 - DUBIOUS JUDGE, FRIGHTENED WOMAN

18

DUBIOUS JUDGE, FRIGHTENED WOMAN

ROSE ANSWERED THE DOOR IN ANOTHER SOBER DRESS, this one a navy dotted Swiss. She looked at me with a flicker of eagerness.

“Have you learned something about Lamont?”

It was painful to tell her no, to watch the dull, heavy expression settle on her face again. “I need some advice or insight—something like that—into Johnny Merton or Curtis Rivers.”

She gave a self-derisive bark of laughter. “I don’t know enough about life or those two men to have insights into their minds.”

“You’re selling yourself short, Ms. Hebert,” I said gently. “I don’t have news for you, but I’ve been to see both men, and I’ve talked to people who knew Steve Sawyer. There’s been a suggestion that Lamont might have flipped on Steve, might have led the police to Steve Sawyer, might have said Sawyer was Harmony Newsome’s murderer.”

“Oh no! I … Oh—”

The house bell had begun to ring behind her, and she turned fearfully away from me. “He wants to know who’s at the door, what’s keeping me so long.”