“What you’ve told me could be of great importance, Mr. Toller. I’m going to talk to Mr. Heider. If he feels as I do, then we may be able to arrange something for you. Now I’m not promising anything, but I want you to know that I appreciate your coming forward with this information.”

Toller seemed flattered and embarrassed by Caproni’s sincerity and, for a second, he forgot the real reason he had contacted the authorities. They shook hands and Caproni left. The session with Toller had drained him and he was grateful to be, once again, in the light of day.

3

Shindler was in Heider’s office, as he had been each afternoon for the past week, helping Heider sort through the evidence that had been amassed during the years of investigation, when Caproni returned. Heider could see that he was excited and he motioned him into a chair.

“What happened at the jail?” Heider asked.

“Something we should look into. The Coolidges may not be guilty.”

Heider cast a quick glance at Shindler. The detective had not moved, but there was a subtle change in his bearing.

“Let’s have it, Al. Don’t keep us in suspense,” Heider said lightly. Inside, wheels were spinning. Tapes preparing to recalculate. The district attorney’s office had committed itself publicly and in the press to the theory that the Coolidges had killed Murray and Walters. Heider had been spokesman for the office and it was his credibility and his political future that would be jeopardized if the Coolidges were innocent.

“I spoke to that man at the jail, Eddie Toller. He told me that he was in Portsmouth in 1961, in mid-January. He was in a bar and he met a man named Willie Heartstone. Toller mentioned that he wanted to get laid and Heartstone said he could fix him up for a price.”

“Heartstone drove him somewhere in the country, not too far from town, to a house where someone named Ralph was living. Toller thinks Heartstone lived there too, but he is not certain.

“Ralph and Heartstone were keeping a girl locked in the basement. She had a padlocked chain around her ankle. Toller said it looked as if they were beating and starving her. He says that a day or so later, he saw Elaine Murray’s picture when her body was found and recognized her as the girl. He said he is certain she was the one. He didn’t come forward then, because he had been in trouble with the law before and didn’t like the police and because he was scared of Ralph and Heartstone and didn’t want to get involved with them again.”

“I see,” Heider said skeptically. “And what evidence did Mr. Toller offer you to substantiate his story?”

“None, except…Just his word. But I believe him. It was the way the man talked. He was upset when he described the girl. His fear communicated. I don’t think he could have faked the way he was talking.”

Shindler laughed.

“Al, I’m surprised at you. You’ve been a cop. I suppose you’ve never been conned before.”

Al blushed.

“A million times. I just don’t think this guy is conning me.”

“Maybe not. Maybe he is telling the truth as he sees it. But it could have been another girl,” Heider said.

“No. He was positive. He saw her picture only a day or two later and his description matches the description of the clothes Murray was wearing when she was found and her hair color.”

“You have to admit that brown hair, slacks and a blouse is not exactly unusual. Besides, he could have gotten that out of the papers. They’re rehashing this whole thing all over the front pages every day,” Shindler said.

“And you’re forgetting one very important point,” Heider said smugly.

“What’s that?”

“When was it that Toller is supposed to have seen this girl alive?”

“The second week in January, a few days before her body was found.”

“Al, according to Dr. Beauchamp’s autopsy report, Elaine Murray was killed four to six weeks before she was found. How could she be alive during the second week in January?”

Caproni looked confused for a moment. Then he remembered something.

“The body. The girl’s body. It didn’t appear to have deteriorated the way you would expect if it had been outside all that time. That was in one of your reports, Roy. Maybe Beauchamp made a mistake. If I remember, his report theorized that the cold weather had kept the corpse preserved.”

Heider shook his head.

“No go, Al. This Toller is just another con trying to make a deal.”

Al shook his head vigorously.

“I just don’t believe that. You had to be there. That man was actually scared when he was retelling that story. I think it should be checked out.”

“Okay, Al. You get back to those transcripts and I’ll have Roy get on it.”

Caproni seemed mollified by Heider’s assurances. They discussed a few other matters and he left. When the door closed behind him, Heider spoke.

“What do you think?”

“Bullshit. Another con with a story.”

“You better hope so. I’ve got my ass on the line with this one and I can’t afford any screw-ups. Go out to the jail. Talk to Toller. If there are any problems, get back to me. They can be taken care of.”

Roger Hessey was doing okay. He had married a real sweet girl, fathered two great kids and gotten in on the ground floor when his father-in-law purchased a franchise in a chain that sold fried chicken. No one expected the restaurant to do as well as it had and Roger earned enough money to set his family up in a comfortable suburban tract home a few minutes’ drive from a shopping center, a golf course and a neighborhood school.

“Some change for me from those high school days,” he said, wagging his head. “We did some crazy things then. Say, can I get you a beer or something?”

“No thanks, Mr. Hessey,” Mark Shaeffer said. They were seated in lawn chairs on Roger’s patio and his two daughters were running and yelling in the backyard. Roger smiled nostalgically and nodded his head again.

“I’ll tell you, I was shocked when I read that Billy and Bobby had been arrested, but I wasn’t surprised.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you’re Bob’s lawyer, so I can tell you, but they were pretty wild kids. I mean we all were in those days. Always fighting. Billy was one of the worst of the lot. He was even into dealing a little narcotics. Pot mostly, but don’t forget this was back in 1960. Everyone thought that stuff was worse than heroin back then.”

“I notice you didn’t mention Bobby just now.”

“Well, Bobby was a wild kid, but he wasn’t mean like his brother. I mean I was wild too. We broke into warehouses and had gang fights. Nothing I’m proud of now. But it was, I don’t know how to put it, oh, all in the spirit of good fun, most of the time.

“I mean, most of us, we’d fight a guy and you’d try to whip him good, but you wouldn’t try to cripple him or really hurt him permanently. It’s hard to explain the line most of us drew, but there was one.

“Then there were kids like Billy. He didn’t draw any lines. That’s why most of us were a bit afraid of him.”

“You knew Esther Freemont, too, didn’t you?”

Roger threw back his head and brayed. The little girls stopped playing, startled by the loud noise. When they saw it was only their father laughing, they went back to their games.

“What’s so funny?” Mark asked.

“Oh, nothin’, I guess. It’s just that thinking of Esther brings back some mighty fine memories. She had the biggest set of tits…”

Roger shook his head in wonder and Mark shifted uneasily on the plastic netting of his aluminum chair. Roger was reclining. He had on an aloha shirt, dark glasses and a pair of checked bermuda shorts. From time to time, he would pat his beer belly with satisfaction or sip from an open can of Coors. The weekend sun was strong and Mark wished that he was swimming instead of working.