Death Trap by John D. MacDonald Read Free Book Online Page A

then and looked at me, eyes somber, sincere, voice changing slightly, becoming deeper and more resonant. “I have defended twenty-seven persons accused of capital crimes, Mr. MacReedy. My father was murdered. He was an attorney. He made a successful defense in a large civil suit. A week later the plaintiff went to my father’s office and took out a gun and shot him as he sat behind his desk. You can say I am oversensitized to murder. And to murderers. Though I am, in theory, opposed to capital punishment, I feel that murder is the one unforgivable crime. And thus I have never undertaken the defense of any person I have felt to be guilty. Twice I have discovered, late in the game, that my client had deceived me. I could not withdraw. I finished the defense in each case, and did my best. I number Alister Landy among the other twenty-five, among those persons innocent of the crime of which they have been accused.”
    I stared at him. “You believe that?”
    “With all my heart. With all my experience, and with what intelligence I have been able to bring to bear. He didn’t kill that girl.”
    “But won’t anybody listen to you?”
    “I’m not in what you would call an impartial position, MacReedy. The appeals I have made are classified as professional. Also there is a tragic coincidence. Two years ago I would have been able to speak confidentially to the Governor. He was a close personal friend who respected my opinions. We were of the same political party. Now the man in the State House is a political enemy. There is no way I can get a further stay of execution.”
    “Why are you so certain Alister is innocent?”
    “Aside from the fact that I do not think he is that practiced a liar, there is one great logical flaw. The state claimed premeditation, basing it on the supposed theft of the knife. On most intelligence tests Alister nearly runs off the scale. Intelligence of that high order is capable of careful planning. Were it premeditated, there would have been no such errors as there were.”
    “But he did make a terrible mistake!” Vicky cried.
    “Yes. But he was badly rattled then. He found the smear of blood on the car seat. He removed it. He didn’t report it. He suspected it was blood. He was frightened. At my advice, he admitted his actions on the stand. I should never have let him take the stand. It was a tactical error.”
    “What did he do?”
    “He did well until Milligan made him angry. Then he became arrogant, noisy, derisive. He offended the jurors, insulted the court. It made a very bad impression.”
    “Let me ask a question, Mr. Tennant. Do you like him?”
    “Like him? Feel affection for? I have to say no. I respect the quality of his mind. I think I understand him.”
    “He’s easy to hate,” I said.
    “What are you getting at?” Vicky asked.
    “Mr. Tennant knows what I’m getting at. He believes Alister innocent. So somebody is guilty. So somebody framed him—with the blood and the knife and pocket-book, and maybe with the tire tracks. Somebody hated him. There has to be a reason.”
    “I went into that,” John Tennant said tiredly. “I paid a private investigator. I questioned Alister and Vicky. There were no specific enemies, no one who would go to that length, at least as far as we could discover.”
    “How about that girl he went with?”
    “Nancy Paulson? She’d gone with another boy before she went with Alister. But that was back when she had been sixteen,” Vicky said. “That other boy, Robby Howard his name was, died. He was drowned at the lake where the Paulsons go in the summer. It was very tragic. She didn’t go with anyone else until she started going with Al last year.”
    “I can’t imagine him dating a girl.”
    “He had changed a lot, Hugh, really. And I think she was good for him. She’s a very pretty girl. Sensitive and bright. High spirited too. She wouldn’t take any of Al’s arrogance. That was what their last scrap was about when they saw each