Heart of a Killer by David Rosenfelt Read Free Book Online Page B

little prospect of finding out anything useful to the caller that wasn’t already public.
    “Information is not what I’m looking for now. We’re coming up on a sensitive time, and this is an intolerable interference.”
    Hennessey had no idea what he meant by a “sensitive time,” because he really hadn’t a clue as to what Murray’s goals were. “Okay. What are you looking for?”
    “Ms. Harrison wants to die.”
    “Yes.”
    “Grant her wish.”

 
    A media contingent was waiting for me outside the prison. They looked exactly like the group in front of my apartment; there seemed to be no limit to the number of people assigned to this story.
    Once I got past them and went inside, the people in the reception area and the guards seemed somewhat more responsive than they had the previous times. I assumed it was because they now knew the world was interested and watching, and scrutiny might be visited upon them.
    I was brought into the same room Sheryl and I had met in twice before, and once again she was waiting for me. It was a conversation I was not looking forward to. I realized that I was seeking her approval, and I was about to get anything but that.
    “I’m sorry, Sheryl. I screwed up big time. I don’t know what else to say.”
    “Tell me what happened,” she said. “Don’t leave out anything.”
    So I told her about calling the Corrections Department, pretending to be a reporter, and meeting with Constance Barkley. I also told her that I had threatened the matter would become public, which I believe provoked them to take the initiative. “It was stupid,” I said. “And I never thought about Karen. Not once.”
    “At the end of the day it’s not going to matter,” she said, once again demonstrating the gift of surprise.
    “What?”
    “We had to go to them eventually anyway, and at least you got heard by the person at the top. This way we didn’t waste time with the losers at the prison. And this was the type of thing that the media was going to grab on to whenever word got out.”
    “But we could have framed it with our point of view.” Weirdly, she didn’t seem angry, or even upset. To her it was another mountain to climb; I suspected she had climbed a few in her life.
    “We still can,” she said.
    “And Karen?”
    “I’m very unhappy about that, but she was going to find out anyway. I wanted to be the one to tell her, but my mother will handle it.”
    “Are you trying to make me feel better?” I asked.
    She gave me the eye contact thing again, in full force. “Harvard, believe me when I tell you this. I totally do not give a shit if you feel better.”
    “I believe you.”
    She nodded. “Good. Now let’s figure out what we’re going to do next.”
    “Before we do that, there’s something else we need to talk about,” I said.
    She seemed wary, as if another bomb was going to be dropped on her. “You raising your fee?”
    “Sheryl, remember the trouble you said you had getting a lawyer? When I suggested you could change lawyers you said you couldn’t go through that process again.”
    “I remember.”
    “Well, at this point lawyers would be throwing themselves at you. This has a high media profile now; you just say the word and you could hold bar association meetings in here.”
    “Is that right?” she asked, as if she hadn’t thought of that before.
    “That’s absolutely right.”
    “Harvard lawyers?” she asked.
    “Hopefully not.”
    She thought for a while, more than a minute, apparently giving it serious consideration. Finally, “No. I’ll stick with you.”
    “Why?”
    “Because you feel guilty about what happened, and because you’re pissed off. You’re invested in this.”
    I was happy with her decision; no, more than happy. I felt vindicated, and maybe even energized. I’m not sure why I wanted to keep a hopeless case that wouldn’t earn me a dime, but I did.
    We talked for almost an hour, planning our strategy, such as it was. We came to the