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few hours later the ballistics
report revealed that three bullets
were found in the dead German's
body. One had been fired from
Kaprum's gun, two from Maggie
Thorne's. The medical examiner's
conclusion was that Kaprum's bullet
would have wounded the victim.
Either one of the two from Thorne
would have caused immediate death.
    Ainslie was called away, then
returned in time to hear part of a
second session between Jorge and
Thorne. At the end the young girl
asked a question, her expression
serious. "What's gonna happen? Will
we get probation?"
    Jorge made no attempt to answer,
and Ainslie knew why.
    What could you say to someone who
was so strangely ignorant about the
gravity of what had transpired, and
the inevitable consequences soon to
come? How could Jorge tell a young
girl, No, there is not the slightest
chance of your receiving probation,
or even going temporarily free on
bail, or for that matter ever
getting out of jail again. What is a
near certainty is that after the two
of you have
    DETECTIVE 31
    been tried before a judge and jury,
you will be found guilty of murder
and sentenced to die in the electric
chair.
    In court, defense lawyers going
through the motions would rant and
rave, complaining that Thorne's and
Kaprum's confessions had been
obtained under duress. The word
"trickery" might be used not without
some truth, Ainslie conceded.
    But a judge, armed with testimony
that proper Miranda warnings had
been given and that the accused had
knowingly signed their rights away,
would dismiss the objections and the
confessions would stand.
    As to the "trickery," Ainslie had
come to believe it was justified.
With any capital crime, total,
conclusive proof was hard to come by
and because of guileful lawyers
sometimes the guilty walked away.
The O.J. Simpson case came
inevitably to mind. But the Thorne
and Kaprum confessions, however
extracted, represented truth that
would lead to justice, and from
society's point of view and Ain-
slie's that was what mattered most.
    The thought of confessions brought
Ainslie's mind back to Elroy Doil
and the reason for this interminable
drive. He wondered, as he had since
the phone call from Raiford earlier
tonight: What kind of confession was
he going to hear?
    He peered out at lighted signs on
the roadway. They had left I-95 and
were on Florida's Turnpike, with
Orlando their first objective two
hundred miles away.
    3
    Malcolm Ainslie, who had dozed off
soon after passing Fort Lauderdale,
was awakened by a thump perhaps a
road bump or more likely a raccoon;
their carcasses littered the
highway. He stretched and sat up,
then checked the time: ten minutes
after midnight. Up ahead he could
see an exit ramp to West Palm Beach,
which meant they were a third of the
way to Orlando. Jorge, he noted, was
driving in the far left lane amid
fairly heavy turnpike traffic.
    Ainslie reached for the phone and
punched in Lieutenant Newbold's
number. When he answered, Ainslie
announced, "Evening, sir. Miami's
finest here."
    "Hey, Malcolm. Everything okay?"
    Ainslie glanced to his left. "The
mad Cuban hasn't killed me yet."
    Newbold chuckled, then said,
"Listen, I checked some flights for
you, and made reservations. I think
we can get you up to Toronto by
tomorrow afternoon."
    "That's good news, Lieutenant.
Thanks!" He jotted down the details:
a 10:05 Delta flight from
Jacksonville to Atlanta, connecting
with Air Canada to Toronto.
    He would be in Toronto only
slightly more than two hours later
than originally planned, and was
relieved. The
    DETECTIVE 33
    arrangement was not ideal because he
knew that Karen's parents, who lived
more than an hour's drive from To-
ronto's Pearson Airport, had some
kind of party planned for lunchtime,
which he would miss. But he would be
at the family dinner in the evening.
    Newbold continued, "Have Rodriguez
drive you to Jacksonville. It's only
sixty miles; you'll make it easily.
And when you get back, we'll look at
your extra expenses and work
something out."
    "That might