“I’m not alone. I have Joshua.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He took Jennifer in his arms and kissed her gently. “Oh, God damn it, Jennifer. I’m sorry…”

Michael Moretti had telephoned Jennifer a dozen times. She returned none of his calls. Once she thought she caught a glimpse of him sitting in the back of a courtroom where she was defending a case, but when she looked again he was gone.

35

Late one afternoon as Jennifer was getting ready to leave the office, Cynthia said, “There’s a Mr. Clark Holman on the phone.”

Jennifer hesitated, then said, “I’ll take it.”

Clark Holman was an attorney with the Legal Aid Society.

“Sorry to bother you, Jennifer,” he said, “but we have a case downtown that no one wants to touch, and I’d really appreciate it if you could help us out. I know how busy you are, but—”

“Who’s the defendant?”

“Jack Scanlon.”

The name registered instantly. It had been on the front pages of the newspapers for the past two days. Jack Scanlon had been arrested for kidnapping a four-year-old girl and holding her for ransom. He had been identified from a composite drawing the police had obtained from witnesses to the abduction.

“Why me, Clark?”

“Scanlon asked for you.”

Jennifer looked at the clock on the wall. She was going to be late for Joshua. “Where is he now?”

“At the Metropolitan Correctional Center.”

Jennifer made a quick decision. “I’ll go down and talk to him. Make the arrangements, will you?”

“Right. Thanks a million. I owe you one.”

Jennifer telephoned Mrs. Mackey. “I’m going to be a little late. Give Joshua his dinner and tell him to wait up for me.”

Ten minutes later, Jennifer was on her way downtown.

To Jennifer, kidnapping was the most vicious of all crimes, particularly the kidnapping of a helpless young child; but every accused person was entitled to a hearing no matter how terrible the crime. That was the foundation of the law: justice for the lowliest as well as the highest.

Jennifer identified herself to the guard at the reception desk and was taken to the Lawyers’ Visiting Room.

The guard said, “I’ll get Scanlon for you.”

A few minutes later a thin, aesthetic-looking man in his late thirties, with a blond beard and light blond hair was brought into the room. He looked almost Christlike.

He said, “Thank you for coming, Miss Parker.” His voice was soft and gentle. “Thank you for caring.”

“Sit down.”

He took a chair opposite Jennifer.

“You asked to see me?”

“Yes. Even though I think only God can help me. I’ve done a very foolish thing.”

She regarded him distastefully. “You call kidnapping a helpless little girl for ransom a ‘foolish thing’?”

“I didn’t kidnap Tammy for ransom.”

“Oh? Why did you kidnap her?”

There was a long silence before Jack Scanlon spoke. “My wife, Evelyn, died in childbirth. I loved her more than anything in the world. If ever there was a saint on earth, it was that woman. Evelyn wasn’t a strong person. Our doctor advised her not to have a baby, but she didn’t listen.” He looked down at the floor in embarrassment. “It—it may be hard for you to understand, but she said she wanted it anyway, because it would be like having another part of me.”

How well Jennifer understood that.

Jack Scanlon had stopped speaking, his thoughts far away.

“So she had the baby?”

Jack Scanlon nodded. “They both died.” It was difficult for him to go on. “For a while, I—I thought I would…I didn’t want to go on living without her. I kept wondering what our child would have been like. I kept dreaming about how it would have been if they had lived. I kept trying to turn the clock back to the moment before Evelyn—” He stopped, his voice choked with pain. “I turned to the Bible and it saved my sanity. Behold, I have set before you an open door which no one is able to shut. Then, a few days ago, I saw a little girl playing on the street, and it was as though Evelyn had been reincarnated. She had her eyes, her hair. She looked up at me and smiled and I—I know it sounds crazy, but it was Evelyn smiling at me. I must have been out of my head. I thought to myself, This is the daughter Evelyn would have had. This is our child.”

Jennifer could see his fingernails digging into his flesh.

“I know it was wrong, but I took her.” He looked up into Jennifer’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have harmed that child for anything in the world.”

Jennifer was studying him closely, listening for a false note. There was none. He was a man in agony.

“What about the ransom note?” Jennifer asked.

“I didn’t send a ransom note. The last thing in the world I cared about was money. I just wanted little Tammy.”

“Someone sent the family a ransom note.”

“The police keep saying I sent it, but I didn’t.”

Jennifer sat there, trying to fit the pieces together. “Did the story of the kidnapping appear in the newspapers before or after you were picked up by the police?”

“Before. I remember wishing they’d stop writing about it. I wanted to go away with Tammy and I was afraid someone would stop us.”

“So anyone could have read about the kidnapping and tried to collect a ransom?”

Jack Scanlon twisted his hands helplessly. “I don’t know. All I know is I want to die.”

His pain was so obvious that Jennifer found herself moved by it. If he was telling the truth—and it was naked in his face—then he did not deserve to die for what he had done. He should be punished, yes, but not executed.

Jennifer made her decision. “I’m going to try to help you.”

He said quietly, “Thank you. I really don’t care anymore what happens to me.”

“I do.”

Jack Scanlon said, “I’m afraid I—I have no money to give you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I want you to tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Start from the beginning. Where were you born?”

“In North Dakota, thirty-five years ago. I was born on a farm. I guess you could call it a farm. It was a poor piece of land that nothing much wanted to grow on. We were poor. I left home when I was fifteen. I loved my mother, but I hated my father. I know the Bible says it’s wrong to speak evil of your parents, but he was a wicked man. He enjoyed whipping me.”

Jennifer could see his body tighten as he went on.

“I mean, he really enjoyed it. If I did the smallest thing he thought was wrong, he would whip me with a leather belt that had a big brass buckle on it. Then he’d make me get down on my knees and pray to God for forgiveness. For a long time I hated God as much as I hated my father.” He stopped, too filled with memories to speak.

“So you ran away from home?”

“Yes. I hitchhiked to Chicago. I didn’t have much schooling, but at home I used to read a lot. Whenever my father caught me, that was an excuse for another whipping. In Chicago, I got a job working in a factory. That’s where I met Evelyn. I cut my hand on a milling machine and they took me to the dispensary, and there she was. She was a practical nurse.” He smiled at Jennifer. “She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It took about two weeks before my hand was healed, and I went to her for a treatment every day. After that, we just kind of started going together. We talked about getting married, but the company lost a big order and I was laid off with the rest of the people in my department. That didn’t matter to Evelyn. We got married and she took care of me. That was the only thing we ever argued about. I was brought up to believe that a man should take care of a woman. I got a job driving a truck and the money was good. The only part I hated was that we were separated, sometimes for a week at a time. Outside of that, I was awfully happy. We were both happy. And then Evelyn got pregnant.”