“I just wanted to bring you up-to-date on the Kay Spalter appeal.” Gurney was speaking in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. “First, we have enough evidence of … let’s call them flaws … in the original investigation to guarantee a reversal of her conviction. Second, we’re now at a fork in the road, meaning we have a choice in how those flaws are presented to the appellate court. For example, the trial witness who ID’d Kay as a person present at the shooting site could have been coerced into perjury … or he could have been innocently mistaken, as eyewitnesses often are. The con who claimed at the trial that Kay tried to hire him as a hit man could have been coerced … or he could have made up that story on his own, as men in his position often do. Kay’s lover could have been told that the only way to avoid being the prime suspect was to make sure Kay ended up in that position … or he could have arrived at that conclusion on his own. The CIO on the case could have concealed key video evidence and ignored other avenues of inquiry because of an improper relationship with the victim’s daughter … or he could simply have zeroed in on the wrong suspect too soon, as detectives often do.”

Klemper was again staring grimly at the floor. “This is all hypothetical nonsense.”

“The thing of it is, Mick, every flaw in the investigation could be described in either criminal or innocent terms—so long as no definitive proof of that improper relationship falls into the wrong hands.”

“Hypothetical bullshit.”

“Okay. Hypothetically, let’s say I have the definitive proof of that improper relationship—in a very persuasive digital form. And let’s say I wanted something in return for keeping it to myself?”

“Why ask me?”

“Because it’s your career, your pension, your freedom that are on the line.”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“I want the security video from the electronics store on Axton Avenue.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If I were to receive that missing video from some anonymous sender, I would be willing to exclude a certain career-ending piece of evidence from the appeal process. I would also be willing to delay indefinitely my plan to provide that same item to the NYSP inspector general. That’s the hypothetical deal. A simple gentlemen’s agreement, based on mutual trust.”

Klemper laughed, or maybe he just grunted and shuddered involuntarily. “This is crazy crap. You sound like some fucking psycho.” He looked over in Gurney’s direction but made no eye contact. “Fantasy bullshit. All fantasy bullshit.” He stood up abruptly, unsteadily, and headed for the nearest exit.

He left in his wake an acrid odor of alcohol and sweat.

Chapter 35

A Mysterious Way

Gurney’s drive home was a journey into anxiety. He attributed it to the emotional free fall that often followed an intense encounter.