Sleepers. Part 33

I told them about the rapes.

I told them about four frightened boys who cried themselves to sleep and who prayed to Father Bobby's G.o.d for help that never came. I told them about endless nights spent staring into darkness, rats owning the corners, keys rattling jail cell locks, nightsticks swinging high in the air, a guard's grip, a boy's scream.

I told them everything.

And when I was done, Carol said quietly, in almost a whisper, "Now you tell me, Father. What would a good priest do?"

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Father Bobby stared straight ahead, as he had for the past hour, only his eyes registering any change. He blew out a mouthful of breath and then looked toward the ceiling, his hands resting on the soft edges of his chair.

"It's getting late," he finally said. "You should go. You both look tired."

He stood up and placed a hand on my arm.

"I've got a decision to make," Father Bobby said. "All I can do is pray that it's the right one."

"It will be, Father," I said. "Whichever way you go."

"The boys were on target about you," Father Bobby said, reaching out for Carol and holding her in his arms.

"About what?" Carol asked, lifting her head.

"They always said you had b.a.l.l.s," Father Bobby said. "And they were right."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Carol said. "Especially coming from a priest."

11.

MICHAEL SMILED AT the witness, a dark-haired, handsome woman from New Jersey. She had her legs crossed under the chair, her skirt pleated, her white blouse b.u.t.toned to the throat. Her hands were folded on her lap. the witness, a dark-haired, handsome woman from New Jersey. She had her legs crossed under the chair, her skirt pleated, her white blouse b.u.t.toned to the throat. Her hands were folded on her lap.

"Mrs. Salinas, how often have you had dinner at the Shamrock Pub?" he asked.

"Just that one night," she answered, her voice a.s.sured, speaking in the manner of a woman with nothing to hide.

"What night would that be?" Michael asked.

"The night of the murder," she said.

"What time did you get there?"

"Near seven-thirty," Mrs. Salinas said. "I met a friend for dinner."

"What's the name of your friend?"

"David," she said. "David Carson."

"Who was the first to arrive?"

"I was," she said. "But only by a couple of minutes."

"You waited for Mr. Carson outside?"

"No," she said. "By the coatrack. As I said, it wasn't much of a wait."

"Okay," Michael said. "You and Mr. Carson go in, sit down, order a drink, start catching up on your day. That right?"

"Pretty much," Mrs. Salinas said. "We hadn't seen each other for a few weeks. David had been away on a business trip."

"Who decided to eat at the Shamrock Pub?"

"I did."

"Why?"

"I read about it in a magazine," she said. "They said it was colorful."

"And was it?"

"Up until the shooting," Mrs. Salinas said.

I looked over at the defense table and caught a smirk from John and a smile from Tommy. Their lawyer, head down, was furiously scrawling notes on a legal pad.

"What's he taking notes for?" Carol whispered. "He knows the questions he's supposed to ask."

"Maybe he forgot them," I said. "Left them on a barstool."

"She's good," Carol said, indicating Mrs. Salinas.

"We want her to be," I said.

"Had Mr. Carson ever been there before?" Michael asked now. "With or without you?"

"No," she said. "It was the first time for both of us."

"Where were you seated, Mrs. Salinas?"

"In a booth," she said. "The one closest to the door."

"Was that by choice?"

"Yes," she said. "All but one of the booths was free, so we could have sat anywhere. But David likes fresh air and I don't mind it either."

"Do you remember what you ordered?"

"I asked for the lamb chops," she said. "It was one of the specialties mentioned in the magazine. David had his usual."

"For those of us not familiar with Mr. Carson's eating habits, could you tell us what his usual consists of?" Michael asked, throwing Mrs. Salinas a wide smile.

"Steak," she said. "David always always orders steak, baked potato, and a tossed salad." orders steak, baked potato, and a tossed salad."

"Did you have anything to drink?"

"We ordered a bottle of red wine," Mrs. Salinas said. "A Chianti, I believe."

"That's all?"

"Yes," she said. "That's all."

"Did you notice the number of people in the pub?"

"There were only a few scattered about," she said. "It was quiet. A good place to meet someone and talk."

"Did you notice the victim, Sean Nokes?"

"No," she said. "I did not."

"You didn't even see him when you walked in?" Michael asked.

"No," she said. "Our table was right near the coat check and I didn't bother looking around."

"Your attentions were focused on Mr. Carson," Michael said.

"Yes, they were," Mrs. Salinas said. "As I said, I hadn't seen him for a while."

"Which way were you facing?" Michael asked. "Which side of the booth were you sitting on?"

"The one facing the rear of the pub," she said.

"The side facing down the row of booths?"

"Yes."

"The side facing Mr. Nokes's booth," Michael said.

"I believe so," Mrs. Salinas said. "Yes."

"But you couldn't see him from where you were sitting?"

"I wasn't looking to see him," she said. "I knew there was someone sitting in the rear booth. I just didn't notice."

"Did you notice the two men who walked in shortly after you sat down for dinner?"

"I heard them come in," she said. "You couldn't help but hear them."

"Why's that?"

"They were loud," she said. "They caused a commotion. I'm sure everyone noticed."

"Did you see their faces when they came in?"

"No," she said. "Not when they came in."

"Why not?"

"I was talking to David," she said. "When I finally looked up, they had moved past me."

"Did you notice their faces when they went to the bar?"

"From the side," she said. "I could see them in profile."

"Both of them?"

"Yes," Mrs. Salinas said, the confidence in her voice never wavering. "Both of them."

"Did you see them approach the booth where Mr. Nokes was sitting?" Michael asked.

"I noticed it," she said. "Yes."

"Did you hear what was said between them?"

"No," she said. "I didn't."

"Did you see them pull out their guns?"

"No," she said.

"Did you hear the shots?"

"Yes," Mrs. Salinas said. "I heard the shots."

"What did they do after the shooting?" Michael asked.

"They walked out of the pub," she said. "As if nothing had happened."

"Did you see their faces then?"

"Yes," she said. "I looked up as they walked by."

"Are you positive of that, Mrs. Salinas?"

"Yes," she said. "Very positive."