Free Heart of a Killer by David Rosenfelt

idea where Eastside Park was, so I figured I’d ask when I got in the area.
    I made very good time and was approaching Paterson on Route 4 at about eight o’clock. I stopped at a gas station and asked the attendant where Eastside Park was, and he didn’t have a clue. He told me his boss would be back in a minute, and that he would likely know.
    The mention of “boss” jarringly reminded me that I had a meeting at nine-thirty scheduled with Gerard Timmerman, an appointment I would not be able to keep.
    Once the gas station boss gave me directions to the park, I called Timmerman’s office, and got his administrative assistant, an imposing woman named Mildred. She was the only person under sixty that I had ever met with that name, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.
    “I’m sorry, but something important has come up, and I’m going to have to reschedule my meeting with Mr. Timmerman this morning.”
    She didn’t answer at first, no doubt finding it difficult to process. Then, “You’re rescheduling?”
    “Yes, I’m afraid so. What time works for him?”
    “You’re sure about this?” she asked, clearly incredulous. Her tone was screaming at me that this was an ill-advised career move.
    “Listen, I know this is unusual, but I’ll explain when I see him. And I’m in something of a hurry. I’m late for a meeting.”
    “You set up a different meeting?”
    I was getting in deeper, but there was nothing I could do. Finally, she told me that Timmerman had an opening on his schedule for eleven-thirty, and she would pencil me in for then. If Timmerman found that unacceptable when she spoke to him, she’d call me.
    I got to the tennis courts five minutes early, and exactly five minutes after that former detective, now lieutenant, John Novack pulled up. He got out of the car and walked toward me, glancing around, probably to make sure he didn’t see reporters, which would force him to cut out my tongue.
    “Speak,” he said.
    “Thanks for coming.”
    “Speak words that matter.”
    “Okay. I’m representing Sheryl Harrison; you’ve probably seen the media coverage about what’s going on.”
    He didn’t say anything, so I pushed forward. “You were the arresting officer in the murder case, and the first one on the scene. Sheryl confessed to you.”
    “You planning on telling me something I don’t know?” he asked.
    “Actually, I’m not. I’m more interested in learning what you do know, or more accurately, what you think.”
    “About what?” His tone was still belligerent, and it was getting on my nerves. Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to alienate him.
    “Look, Reggie told me you don’t like defense lawyers, but that’s not what I am. I just sort of wandered into this, and I’m doing the best I can. I’m trying to save a girl’s life.”
    “And lose your client’s in the process.”
    “I’m not happy about that, but it’s her decision, or at least that’s what I’m hoping to make it.”
    He seemed to think about this for a moment, and then seemed to soften a little. A very little. “What does this have to do with me?”
    “I don’t give us much chance to win in the courts, and even if we do, Karen won’t make it that long. Public opinion is on our side, and we can milk it as we go along, but it’s not so one-sided that the state is going to back down.”
    “So?’
    “So Sheryl has a parole hearing in three weeks. It’s just a formality at this point, but I want to make it more than that. I want her to get the parole and go out in the world. Then there will be nothing to stop her from saving her daughter’s life.”
    “She won’t get paroled,” Novack said.
    I nodded. “Not on the current evidence.”
    “You have something new?”
    I shook my head. “No. That’s where I’m hoping you come in.”
    He laughed. “Let me go check my car; I think I’ve got some new evidence in the trunk.”
    “Reggie doesn’t think she did it,” I said.
    Novack didn’t say that