Free The Closing: A Whippoorwill Hollow novel (The Whippoorwill Hollow novels) by Ken Oder Page B

know the details. Exactly what did you do to the man?”
    George was one of the few people Nate trusted with ugly truths. “A man was killed in Selk County. Sheriff Grundy arrested a man who worked with the victim.” Nate hesitated and looked at the whiskey bottle. “I was confident he was the murderer. I wrote out a confession. The man had limited mental ability. I convinced him to sign it with his mark before the district court appointed counsel for him. The judge eventually appointed a kid fresh out of law school as defense counsel. I sprang the confession on him and used it to bully him into agreeing to a guilty plea to a lesser offense. Judge Blackwell knew the defendant’s lawyer hadn’t protected him, and he refused to accept the plea.”
    “Old Harry has always been quick to make allowances for a weak lawyer.”
    “Harry was right. Later on, the sheriff found the real killer. The defendant was innocent.”
    “You made a mistake. You pushed too hard to get a conviction. That’s understandable in this business. I don’t see why that cost you your job.”
    “There was a lot more to it.”
    George paused. Then he said, “We go way back together, Nate. You know you can trust me.”
    “All right, George. Here’s the truth. Because of the man’s limited capacity, his confession was worthless without a witness to verify that he confessed of his own free will. I convinced my secretary to sign a statement swearing that the man volunteered the incriminating statements.”
    “She wasn’t there when you questioned him?”
    “That’s right.”
    “She committed perjury. You suborned perjury.”
    Nate nodded.
    George emitted a low whistle.
    Nate wanted a drink in the worst way. He stared at the bottle. “That case wasn’t the only time I crossed the line.”
    “How many cases did you mess with?”
    “Five, including the Tin case.”
    “Does Harry Blackwell know about the other cases?”
    “He asked me and I told him.”
    “What did he do about those?”
    “Tin was released when the sheriff found the real murderer. The other cases were retried. One defendant was acquitted. Three were convicted a second time. The judge tried to keep my malfeasance quiet, but too many people knew. Most of it’s common knowledge in the legal community. I’m surprised you haven’t heard the rumors.”
    “I imagine people were reluctant to spread such dirt my way because of my friendship with you. They were right to stay away from me. I might have popped some self-righteous prick in the mouth for talking trash about you.”
    A tight smile crossed Nate’s lips. “You’re a good friend, George.”
    George frowned. “To tell you the truth, I’m surprised Harry didn’t have you indicted. Harry’s a tough old bird. How did you talk him out of jailing you?”
    “I didn’t talk him out of it. I don’t know the reason he spared me.”
    “How did Harry keep the sheriff and the new commonwealth’s attorney off your back?”
    “He said I wouldn’t be prosecuted, and he kept his word. I don’t know how he did it.”
    “Well, needless to say, I agree with his forbearance.”
    “You’re kind to say so, George, whether you really believe it or not.”
    “No. I mean it. I understand what you did. Prosecution is a heavy responsibility. It grinds you down after so many years. Frustration with the criminal justice system can drive a good man to do bad deeds. What you did was wrong, but I don’t hold it against you.” George turned up his glass of bourbon and drained it.
    “Was someone in law enforcement in Buck County driven to do bad deeds in the Deatherage case?”
    George filled his glass again. “There were some odd quirks in that case, but no bad deeds I’m aware of.”
    “What sort of odd quirks?”
    “That motion in limine was odd.” George ran his hand down his face and sighed.
    “What else?”
    George shrugged. “I’ve said all I care to say about the Deatherage case.”
    Nate had never seen George look so