Robin held her office door open for Ken. “Let’s talk.”
It was rainy and cold outside, and Robin was wearing a fleece-lined parka. She hung it up and took a seat behind her desk while Ken took one of her client chairs.
“So?” Robin said as she peeled the plastic lid off her latte and took a sip.
“If you need to show that Jose’s attorney was incompetent or that Archie Stallings is a creep who molests women, we’re in fat city.”
At five the previous evening, Loretta had briefed Robin on her theory of how to breach the barrier erected by the attorney-client confidence. When she left the office, Robin had been hopeful about her chances in Jose’s case. She was in a great mood when Ken finished his report.
As soon as she was alone, Robin phoned Black Oaks.
“Good morning, Mr. Melville,” Robin said when her client came on the line.
“Do you have news for me?”
“I do. My investigator talked to three of the women whose testimony you suppressed, and they’re all willing to testify that Stallings was a sexual predator. More important, one of them, Debra Porter, will testify that Stallings tried to force Margo Prescott into a bedroom at a party, and Jose stopped him. So, Stallings had a reason to perjure himself at Jose’s trial, and Jose’s lawyer should have called these women so the jury would know that Stallings had a reason to lie about Jose.”
“What about getting my testimony before a judge? Have you found a way around the attorney-client privilege?”
“I think so. It will be a close call, but my associate came up with an idea I think might work.”
“Will you have a problem with the statute of limitations?”
“We’re barred in state court, but we can go into federal court. I’m going to argue that Jose was denied his Sixth Amendment right to counsel. We’ll allege that his trial lawyer was incompetent because he didn’t find the women who could have impeached Stallings. I’m also going to argue that Jose is completely innocent. That’s another ground for granting habeas corpus that the Feds recognize.”
“It sounds like you’re on the right track. What’s your next move?”
“I didn’t want to get Jose’s hopes up before I thought I could help him, so I haven’t met with him to tell him that we’re going to reopen his case. Now that I think we have a good shot at getting him out, I’m going to drive down to the penitentiary and introduce myself.”
“That’s wonderful. Please let me know what happens when you meet Jose.”
“I’ll call you as soon as I get back to my office.”
As soon as the call ended, Frank Melville leaned his head against the back of his wheelchair and closed his eyes. Robin Lockwood had seemed so positive on the phone. Could his nightmare finally be over? Was it possible that he was going to be absolved of the guilt that had sickened him ever since Archie Stallings had confessed and he’d lacked the courage to tell the truth?
Melville had convinced himself that nothing would have been gained if he’d told the authorities that Stallings had murdered Margo Prescott. Stallings would have said that he never confessed, and Frank would have had no way to disprove the lie. And there was a good chance that he would have been censured or disbarred for revealing an attorney-client confidence. Melville would have risked losing his career if it resulted in freeing Jose Alvarez from the cage into which he had put the young man, but his efforts would have been futile while Stallings was still alive. Now that Stallings was dead, there was hope for Jose and a chance that he could be at peace after years of self-condemnation. If Robin did succeed, Melville vowed that he would do everything in hispower to make amends to Jose Alvarez for the life that had been stolen from him.
It occurred to Frank that there was a chance that he would actually be happy if Robin succeeded. And there was something else that might happen if Robin won. Something he didn’t dare do unless Jose was a free man.
After Katherine died Frank resigned himself to a life of loneliness. He couldn’t imagine meeting anyone whom he could love like he’d loved Katherine or who could love a cripple. Then Sheila Monroe had come into his life. He had never revealed his feelings to her. More important, while she was kind and supportive, she had never given him any indication that she had strong feelings for him.
Frank could not bring himself to tell Sheila how he felt while Jose languished in prison. But if Robin succeeded in clearing Jose’s name…
Frank took a deep breath. Best not to dream of what might be. Not after so many of his dreams had been turned to dust. Best to wait and see what happened when Robin went to court.
CHAPTER TEN
Robin parked in the visitors’ lot of the Oregon State Penitentiary and walked down a tree-lined lane toward the squat, square prison with its thick, egg-yolk-yellow walls, barbed-wire fences, and gun towers. A short flight of stairs led to a door that opened into a waiting room lined with couches covered in rust-colored upholstery that had been manufactured in the prison.
A young woman had just gotten up from one of the couches and was trying to keep a toddler from running away from her. She looked exhausted and angry. Robin wondered if she was here to visit the boy’s father. How far did she have to travel, how often did she visit? The child’s clothes looked like hand-me-downs, and her clothes looked frayed. Robin wondered what life had in store for the little boy.
Two guards were stationed behind a circular counter in the center of the room. Robin showed them her photo ID and bar card and told them the purpose of her visit. One of the guardswalked around the desk and led Robin to a metal detector. After she walked through it, he escorted her down a ramp, through two sets of sliding steel bars, and down a short hall. Robin waited while the guard unlocked the thick metal door that opened into the visiting area, a large, open space furnished with vending machines that dispensed drinks and snacks. The prisoners were easy to identify in their blue jeans and work shirts. They sat on prison-made couches and talked in low tones to their parents, wives or girlfriends, or played with children they got to see once a month.
Robin walked up to a corrections officer who sat on a raised platform at one end of the room.
“I’m Robin Lockwood. I’m an attorney, and I’d like to talk to Jose Alvarez. He’s one of the inmates on death row.”
“They called me when you checked in at the front desk. Mr. Alvarez will be down in about fifteen minutes.”