Degree of Guilt by Richard North Patterson Read Free Book Online Page B

the essence of her story. ‘It was while we were talking,’ she said, ‘that I noticed the tape recorder.’
    ‘Tell me about that.’
    Mary nodded again. ‘It was on the coffee table.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘At first I didn’t understand. When I sat down, I asked him what it was for.’
    ‘You didn’t know?’
    Mary realized that she was staring at the tape recorder. ‘I thought he might be recording us for some reason.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘That it was the tape of Laura Chase. He was going to give me an exclusive opportunity, he said.’
    ‘What did he mean?’
    ‘What he said he meant was that when the book came out, I could do the first television interview.’ She paused again. ‘All about Laura and James Colt.’
    Monk folded his hands. After a moment, he asked, ‘Did Ransom say why he’d brought the tape with him?’
    ‘As bait. He said he might let me listen.’ She stared at her wrist.
    ‘The tape seemed to excite him – he kept looking at it.’
    ‘What did you say?’
    ‘Nothing. He said that he wanted to talk first, about the book. That we should have some champagne.’
    ‘Did you?’
    ‘I didn’t want to. But it was a story, and I was there, and champagne was part of his pretense of elegance. So I let him order champagne from room service. We sat on the couch, talking, and I had one glass.’
    Monk raised his eyebrows. ‘The bottle was empty,’ he observed.
    ‘He drank the rest.’ Mary closed her eyes. ‘While we listened to the tape.’
    Monk was silent. ‘You listened to it?’ he finally asked.
    ‘Yes. At some point, I realized that was why I was there. He wanted to share it.’ She paused, speaking more slowly. ‘He needed me to hear what James Colt had done to Laura Chase.’
    Monk seemed to search for another question. Then he asked simply, ‘What happened?’
    Mary felt cold. ‘It was horrible. The last time I had heard Laura Chase was at the movies, or perhaps on her early records. It was the same voice, but there weren’t any pictures. Instead I was sitting in a hotel suite with Mark Ransom, while an actress who’s been dead for twenty years decribed how a senator I remembered admiring watched two of his friends take turns with her.’ She found herself staring at the tape recorder again. ‘I’m not sure, at first, that I even felt his hand on my knee.’
    ‘Ransom fondled you while the tape was playing?’
    She nodded. ‘At first, I thought it was a mistake. I mean, it was more like grazing than touching. Then I stopped and looked at him.
    ‘He just stared back at me. When he knew he had my attention, he looked down at his lap. Slowly, to make sure I would follow him.’
    ‘And.’
    ‘He had an erection. That was what he wanted me to see.’
    The gold-rimmed glasses seemed to magnify Monk’s eyes. ‘He had his penis out?’
    ‘No. It was obvious enough.’
    ‘Did he say anything?’
    ‘He offered me an “arrangement,” to play the tape on Deadline .’
    ‘Did he say what kind of arrangement?’
    ‘Are you serious?’
    ‘Just what he said.’
    ‘All right. What he said, exactly, was, “I like fucking women I’ve seen on film. It’s as if I’ve made them real.”’
    Monk touched his chin. ‘What did you do?’ he finally asked.
    ‘I told him I was much too smart to fuck him, and took his hand away. Then I said to him, much more calmly, that I was willing to deal with him as a news professional and make some other kind of “arrangement.”’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘That his arrangement was the only arrangement. That I’d like it.’ Mary paused again. ‘All this time, Laura Chase is still talking on the tape, about having sex while James Colt watches.’
    The room was silent. Mary could hear the whisper of the tape.
    ‘What happened next?’ Monk asked.
    ‘I stood up, grabbed my purse off the coffee table . . .’ Her voice trailed off.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Ransom caught me by the arm.’
    Monk waited for a moment. ‘Take your