Day of Confession by Allan Folsom Read Free Book Online

cooperate any way I can.”
    “That’s not the only reason, Mr. Addison…”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your clients. You have to protect them. If you had called the United States Embassy as you threatened—or arranged for an Italian lawyer to represent you in your talks with the police—you knew there was a very good chance the media would find out…. Not only would our suspicions about your brother be made public, they would learn about you as well. Who you are, and what you do, and who you personally represent. People who would not want to be linked, however distantly or innocently, to the murder of the cardinal vicar of Rome.”
    “Who do you think I represent that—?”
    Abruptly, Farel cut him off, naming half a dozen of his superstar Hollywood clients in rapid succession.
    “Should I keep on, Mr. Addison?”
    “How did you get that information?” Harry was shocked and outraged. The identity of his firm’s clients was carefully guarded. It meant Farel had not only been digging into his background but also had connections in Los Angeles capable of getting him whatever he asked for. A reach and power that was frightening.
    “Your brother’s guilt or innocence aside, there is a certain practicality to things…. That’s why you’re talking to me, Mr. Addison, alone and of your own free will and will continue to do so until I am done with you…. You have to protect your own success.” His left hand found its way up to caress his skull just over his left ear. “It’s a nice day. Why don’t we go for a walk…?”
    THE MORNING SUN was beginning to light the top floors of the buildings around them as they came out and Farel turned them left, onto Via Ombrellari—a narrow cobblestone street without sidewalks, the apartment buildings interrupted here and there by a bar or restaurant or pharmacy. A priest walked by across from them. Farther down, two men noisily loaded empty wine and mineral water bottles into a van outside a restaurant.
    “It was a Mr. Byron Willis, a partner in your law firm, who informed you of your brother’s death.”
    “Yes…”
    So Farel knew that, too. He was doing the same thing Roscani and Pio had done, trying to intimidate him and get him off guard, let him know that no matter what anyone said, he was still a suspect. That Harry knew he was innocent made little difference. Law school years had made him more aware than most of the long history of jails, prisons, and even gallows that had been peopled with the guiltless, men and women charged with crimes far less grievous than the one being investigated here. It was unnerving, if not frightening. And Harry knew it showed, and he didn’t like it. Moreover, Farel’s digging into his professional world gave everything a calculated spin. One that gave the Vatican policeman added power, because it let him inside Harry’s life, and told him there was nowhere he could go that Farel couldn’t find out about.
    Harry’s concern about publicity had been one of the first things he’d addressed yesterday, as soon as he’d left Pio and checked into his hotel, calling Byron Willis at his home in Bel Air. By discussion’s end they’d enumerated, almost word for word, the reasons Farel had just given for Harry’s keeping a low profile. They’d agreed that, tragic as it was, Danny was dead, and since whatever involvement he’d had or not had in the murder of Cardinal Parma was being kept quiet, it was best for all of them to let it stay that way. The risk that Harry’s clients might be revealed and his situation exploited was something neither they, nor he, nor the company needed, especially now, when the media seemed to rule everything.
    “Did this Mr. Willis know Father Daniel had contacted you?”
    “Yes…. I told him when he called to notify me of what had happened…”
    “You told him what your brother said.”
    “Some of it…. Most of it…. Whatever I said, it’s in the transcripts of what I told the police