I Is for Innocent

The voice was well modulated, the tone cautious.
    "He had a heart attack. Who is this?"
    There was a pause. "I'm not sure that's relevant."
    "It is if you want to talk to me," I said.
    Another pause. "My name is David Barney."
    My heart did one of those sudden hard bangs. "Excuse me. I'm the wrong person to ask about Morley Shine –"
    He cut in, saying, "Listen to me. Now, just listen. There's something screwy going on. I talked to him last Wednesday –"
    "Morley called you?"
    "No, ma'am. I called him. I heard some ex-con named Curtis McIntyre is set to testify against me. He claims I told him that I killed my wife, but that's bullshit and I can prove it."
    "I think we should stop this conversation right here."
    "But I'm telling you –"
    "Tell it to your attorney. You have no business calling me."
    "I've told my attorney. I told Morley Shine, too, and look how he ended up."
    I was silent for half a second. "What's that supposed to mean?"
    "Maybe the guy was getting too close to the truth."
    I rolled my eyes. "Are you implying he was murdered?"
    "It's possible."
    "So is life on Mars, but it's not likely. Why would anybody want to murder Morley Shine?"
    "Maybe he'd found something that exonerated me."
    "Oh, yeah, really. Such as what?"
    "McIntyre claims he talked to me outside the courtroom the day I was acquitted, right?"
    I said nothing.
    "Right?" he asked again. I hate guys who insist on a line-by-line response.
    "Make your point," I said.
    "The fucker was in jail then. It was May twenty-first. Check his rap sheet for that year. You'll see it plain as day. I told Morley Shine the same thing Wednesday morning and he said he'd look into it."
    "Mr. Barney, I don't think it's a good idea for us to talk like this. I work for the opposition. I'm the enemy, you got that?"
    "All I want to do is tell you my side of it."
    I held the phone out and squinted at the receiver in disbelief. "Does your attorney know you're doing this?"
    "To hell with that. To hell with him. I've had it up to here with attorneys, my own included. We could have settled this years ago if anybody'd had the decency to listen." This from a man who shot his wife in the eye.
    "Hey, you have the legal system if you want someone to listen. That's what it's all about. You say one thing. Kenneth Voigt says something else. The judge will hear both sides and so will the jury."
    "But you won't."
    "No, I won't listen because it's not my place," I said irritably.
    "Even if I'm telling the truth?"
    "That's for the court to decide. That isn't my job. My job is to gather information. Lonnie Kingman's job is to put the facts before the court. What good is it going to do to tell me anything? This is stupid."
    "Jesus Christ! Someone has to help me." His voice broke with emotion. I could hear mine getting colder.
    "Talk to your attorney. He got you off a murder rap... so far, at any rate. I wouldn't mess with success if I were you."
    "Could you meet with me... just briefly?"
    "No, I can't meet with you!"
    "Lady, I'm begging you. Five minutes is all I ask."
    "I'm going to hang up, Mr. Barney. This is inappropriate."
    "I need help."
    "Then hire some. My services are taken."
    I put the phone down and jerked my hand back. Was the man nuts? I'd never heard of a defendant trying to enlist the sympathies of the opposition. Suppose, in desperation, the guy came after me? I snatched up the phone again and buzzed Ida Ruth.
    "Yessum?"
    "The guy who just called. Did you give him my name?"
    "Of course not. I'd never do such a thing," she said.
    "Oh, shit. I just remembered. I gave it to him myself."

Chapter 9
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    I picked up the phone again and placed a call to Sergeant Cordero in Homicide. She was out, but Lieutenant Becker picked up. "Hi, this is Kinsey. I need some information and I was hoping Sheri could help."
    "She won't be back until after three, but maybe I can help. What's the scoop?"
    "I was going to ask her to call the county jail and have someone check the jail release forms for a fellow named Curtis McIntyre."
    "Wait a minute. Let me grab a pencil. That was McIntyre?"
    "Right. He's an informant set to testify on a case for Lonnie Kingman. I need to know if he was incarcerated on May twenty-first, five years ago, which is when he claims he talked to the defendant. I can get the information by subpoena, but it's probably just a wild-goose chase and I hate to go to all the trouble."
    "Shouldn't be hard to check. I'll call you back when I've got it, but it may take a