Heart of a Killer Read Online Free PDF Page B

“What do you think?”
    “Sheryl Harrison. That’s the woman who slit her husband’s throat?”
    I hadn’t mentioned how she killed him, only that she had. “Yes, you remember it?”
    “I pretty much remember every significant criminal case in this county for the last thirty years. It’s a curse. But this one was near the top of the list.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it didn’t make sense to me. I never really bought that she did it.”
    “She confessed.”
    He nodded. “I know, which doesn’t say much for my theory. And don’t forget, I think everyone is innocent.”
    He stood up. “Let’s go.”
    “Where?”
    “I’ve got to be in court in twenty minutes. We can finish talking on the way.”
    We started making our way from Regg’s Main Street office in Paterson to the courthouse, about a fifteen-minute walk. It should take ten, but each store seems obligated to have stands set up out in the street with their merchandise, as if the junk, when seen in the light of day, will prove too enticing to pass up. It makes walking on the streets very difficult. Since at many points the walking area was only one-person wide, it wasn’t that well suited for talking either. Especially since Charlie walked at about forty-five miles an hour.
    “So what do you think of her chances?” I yelled up ahead, while trying to simultaneously catch my breath.
    “She doesn’t have any chances.”
    “What does that mean?”
    He stopped for a moment, to let me close the gap. “They won’t go for it. They won’t come close to going for it.”
    I had come to the same conclusion, but his certainty still annoyed me. “Why not?”
    “You’re asking them to kill her. There is no death penalty in New Jersey.”
    “They don’t have to do the actual killing, and this isn’t a penalty; this is the granting of a wish.”
    He nodded as if that cleared it up. “Ohhh, why didn’t you say that before? That changes everything; prisoners get three wishes that are always granted. This could be her first and last one.”
    “So they would let her daughter die?”
    “Her daughter is not their problem; she is. Take your best shot, Jamie, and let me know how I can help. I think she’s right, and I approve of what you’re doing. But you and she have no chance.”
    We reached the courthouse, and he shook my hand and told me he had to get inside for jury selection on his next trial.
    “Are you going to win this one?” I asked.
    He laughed. “You must be kidding. I’ve got less chance than Sheryl Harrison.”
    He started to walk across the street, then stopped and came back. “Who was the detective assigned to the case at the time?”
    “John Novack,” I said.
    “He’s the best. Let me know if you want to talk to him.”
    “Why would I want to do that?”
    He shrugged. “Because pretty soon you’ll be grasping at straws, and maybe he’ll be able to help.”

 
    The way to get through life is to reduce the number of potential “no”s. Most people in most jobs are trained to say “no”; it’s much easier and much safer. A “yes” involves a lot of risk, and it’s very public and easy to trace back. A “no” has a good chance of remaining anonymous, and anonymity is a valued perk in our workforce.
    A “no” stops something cold, often leaving little or no chance to appeal. So if you want an answer on something, you go as high up as you can, bypassing as many potential “no-sayers” as possible.
    This is the reason why I didn’t go to the director of inmate affairs at the prison, or even the warden. They would be very likely to say “no,” and no doubt powerless to say “yes.” The best I could hope for, and that would be a long shot, was that they would pass it up to their superiors for a ruling. The more prudent move for me would be to go straight to those superiors, if I was able to.
    So that’s what I tried to do, and I tried to do it quickly. Just four hours after promising Sheryl that I would work my ass off,