White River Burning полностью

Gurney’s customary uneasiness at any public mention of his name was amplified by the fact of its occurring on RAM-TV. It certainly wasn’t something he could ignore, particularly after Marv Gelter’s comments at lunch. He went into the den, accessed the site on his laptop, and clicked on that day’s edition of NewsBreakers. He used the time slider on the video window to get past the promotional graphics to the point where Stacey Kilbrick and Rory Kronck, sitting at their studio news desk, frowning with concern, were addressing their top story. As the audio kicked in, Kilbrick was in the middle of a sentence.

“. . . learned today that there have been two more suspicious deaths in White River. The bodies of Blaze Lovely Jackson, a leader of the Black Defense Alliance, and her sister, Chalise Jackson Creel, were found in their apartment by detectives Mark Torres and David Gurney—someone we’ll have more to say about later in this program. The district attorney’s office, which is overseeing the investigation, is calling the deaths possible homicides.”

She turned toward Kronck. “The terrible carnage in White River just keeps going on. What do you think are the chances these ‘possible’ homicides turn out to be the real thing?”

“My guess would be ninety-nine percent. But so far the DA has released very little specific information. I suspect he wants to be absolutely certain before he has to acknowledge two more murders on his watch—two more murders in a case that was already bizarre.”

Kilbrick nodded grimly. “On the other hand, Cory Payne, son of the mysteriously missing police chief, was very forthcoming with his own view of the situation.”

“You can say that again, Stacey! I overheard your interview with him, and that young man certainly doesn’t pull his punches. Let’s show our viewers what we’re talking about.”

The scene shifted to the simple setting in which Gurney recalled seeing Kronck interviewing Kline. The most conspicuous difference now was the camera being positioned to include the interviewer’s short red skirt and long, shapely legs.

Payne appeared somewhat academic in a brown tweed sport jacket, a pale-blue shirt open at the neck, and tan slacks. His hair was still pulled back in a ponytail, but it looked more carefully combed than Gurney remembered. His face looked freshly shaved.

“What are you watching?”

Madeleine’s voice behind him at the den door surprised him. He hadn’t heard her come in.

“Cory Payne. Being interviewed. On that NewsBreakers program.”

She pulled a second chair over to the desk and peered intently at the screen.

Kilbrick was resting a clipboard and a pen on her crossed legs. She leaned forward with an expression of painful earnestness. “Welcome to NewsBreakers, Cory. I appreciate your coming here today. You’ve been at the center of the most disturbing criminal case I’ve ever encountered as a journalist. Among other horrible events, your own father accused you of murder on national television. I can’t imagine how that must have felt. We sometimes use the term ‘worst moment of my life’ loosely. But in this instance, would you say that was true?”

“No.”

“No?” Kilbrick blinked, evidently nonplussed.

“It was the most infuriating,” explained Payne, “but far from the worst.”

“Well . . . that does raise an obvious question.”

He waited for her to ask it.

“Tell us, Cory, what was the worst moment of your life?”

“The moment at boarding school when I was told that my mother had died. That was the worst. Nothing has ever come close to that.”

Kilbrick consulted her clipboard. “That was when you were fourteen?”

“Yes.”

“Your father was already prominent in law enforcement at that time. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And he made a number of public statements blaming illegal drugs, specifically heroin, for her death.” She looked up from her clipboard. “Was that true?”

Payne’s gaze turned icy. “As true as blaming a rope for the death of a hanged man.”

Kilbrick looked excited. “Interesting answer. Could you expand on that?”

“Heroin is just a thing. Like a rope. Or a bullet.”

“Are you saying there was more to your mother’s death than a simple overdose?”

Payne spoke softly. “I’m saying that he killed her.”

“Your father killed your mother?”

“Yes.”

“With drugs?”

“Yes.”

Kilbrick looked stunned. “Why?”

“For the same reason he killed John Steele, Rick Loomis, Marcel Jordan, Virgil Tooker, Blaze Jackson, Chalise Creel, and Judd Turlock.”

She stared at him.

“They threatened his future, the way he wanted things to turn out.”

“Threatened all of that . . . how?”

“They knew things about him.”

“What did they know?”

“That he wasn’t what he seemed to be. That he was dishonest, cruel, manipulative. That he extorted confessions, tampered with evidence, and destroyed people’s lives to build his own reputation. To ensure his own security. To prove to himself how powerful he was. He was a truly evil man. A killer. A monster.”