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  62. AUTHOR’S NOTE

Carson took a deep breath. “Dink made me do it,” she said.

“Dink who?” Viv asked.

“Dink Brennan, my boyfriend. His roommate at Yale, Parker Mosely, came to my apartment this afternoon, gave me the cocaine, and told me exactly what Dink said for me to do.”

Viv was taking notes. “And where does Parker live?”

“His parents live at 580 Park Avenue, but he went back to Yale. He lives in a dorm there.”

Dino ripped her notes from the pad and stood up. “You finish up here,” he said to Viv, “and get it all. Explain to her that her statement is being videotaped and recorded, and don’t let her leave until she signs the typed statement.”

“Yes, sir,” Viv said.

Dino left the interrogation room and went back to the observation room. Herbie took the paper from his hand and began to write. “Here’s the address and room number of his dorm,” he said, handing it back to Dino. “Tell your people they might get a disease if they touch anything in the place.”

“They’ll go in with a search warrant,” Dino said, “and I’ll bet we find drugs.”

Stone spoke up. “You know you don’t have anything on Dink yet. She didn’t get her instructions from him. You’re going to have to turn Parker, too.”

“Stone,” Herbie said, “can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

“I’ll go away,” Dino said, and left the room.

“What is it, Herb?”

“I’ve got a problem here, and so have you.”

“Marshall Brennan?”

“Exactly. He’s the firm’s client, and a very important one, and since you and I are both heavily invested with him, we don’t want to cause him any more pain than can possibly be avoided.”

“By having his son arrested and charged?”

“That’s it. Look, nobody’s been hurt here so far. She’s not going to charge me with rape, so it’s not going to make the papers and I’m not going to be fired from Woodman and Weld, and Marshall is not going to fire the firm, and my career won’t be over tomorrow.”

“You have a point,” Stone said. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Let’s do it a different way,” Herbie said, and began to explain.

34

HERBIE AWOKE the following morning, still feeling fuzzy. He’d had only about four hours of sleep, but that would be enough. He called the rehab farm in Connecticut and made an appointment to see Dink, then he had a long conversation with the director of the farm. He showered, shaved, had a good breakfast, then transferred his security tape to his iPad and put it into his briefcase, along with a copy of Carson Cullers’s signed statement. He inserted a tiny recorder into the breast pocket of his tweed jacket, then he called Cookie and told her to clear his morning, that he had to see a client, which was true. He got out the Maybach and drove up to New Haven, thinking that, maybe, he should be driving something less ostentatious.