CHARLES MONTGOMERY WAS in court today in Alabama and gave an allocution to the judge that he killed your parents.”
Decker tapped his hand on the arm of his chair as he sat looking at Melvin Mars, who was finishing a full week of rehab at a facility attached to the hospital.
Mars looked pretty much normal. The swelling was gone, along with the soreness. The docs had given him a clean bill of health. He was to be released the following day.
Mars put down the weights he had been lifting and toweled off his face.
“So what does that mean exactly?”
“It’s a formal statement under oath that what he said is true. It included specific details about the murders of your parents.”
“And the court accepted it?”
Decker nodded.
He had come here today by himself. He wanted some time alone with Mars.
“So what now?”
Decker said, “That statement has been forwarded to the court here in Texas that has jurisdiction over your case. The court will review it and then make a determination.”
“What about the people who actually prosecuted me?”
“They’ve retired. But the state lawyers are in the loop and they are also considering everything. If they come down on the side of believing Montgomery and throw their support to you, then I don’t think the court has any choice but to set you free. Pretty much immediately.”
Mars wrapped the towel around his neck, his muscles straining against the tight T-shirt, and sat down opposite Decker.
“How long you reckon all that will take?”
“I can’t imagine that long.”
“What was he like?” Mars asked quietly.
“Who, Montgomery?”
Mars nodded, his gaze on the floor.
“Probably like a lot of guys you’ve known in prison.”
“So just a screwed-up asshole looking to hurt people?”
“He was a Vietnam vet. Said stuff over there gave him headaches. Couldn’t take the pain. Turned to crime to pay for the drugs because the VA wouldn’t help him.”
“But why’d he kill my parents?”
“You really want to hear this? It can’t change anything.”
Mars glanced up at him. “Tell me.”
“Wrong place, wrong time. Montgomery tried to pawn stuff at your dad’s shop. He said your dad wasn’t buying, maybe dissed him. He got pissed, followed him home, wanted money, but your dad told him he was only the clerk there, that the owner put the money in the bank every night. So…he did what he did, using your shotgun he found in your room. And that gas can in the garage.”
Mars studied the floor. “And you believe him?”
“He had details only the person there would’ve known.”
Mars looked up again. “But do you believe he did it?”
Decker said nothing.
“So you don’t believe him, then?”
“Doesn’t matter what I believe. It matters what the truth is.”
“And that doesn’t come close to answering my question,” Mars said irritably. “Why do you have to make everything so damn hard, Decker?”
“My job is to find the truth, Melvin. I told you that the first time I met you. Right now, I don’t believe anybody.”
“Including me?”
“With you, I’m getting there. Faster than I normally do.” He added, “It’s probably because you’re so lovable.”
Mars laughed. “Didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”
“I don’t. You must be rubbing off on me.”
“So where do I go while all this stuff is being decided?”
“A safe house maintained by the FBI. It’s in Austin.”
“Haven’t been back to Austin since I played at UT.”
“I figured.” Decker paused. “Got a question for you.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“I read your mother’s full autopsy report.”
Mars stiffened as he looked warily at Decker. “And what? Did you see something off?”
“I saw that the coroner concluded that your mother had terminal brain cancer.”
Mars nearly toppled off the stool. He managed to keep his balance by slamming a hand down on the floor and righting himself.
“I can tell from your reaction that you didn’t know.”
“That’s bullshit,” exclaimed Mars.
“Not according to the report. There were pictures of the tumor. I won’t show them to you because the shotgun blast had done a lot of damage. Stage Four, pretty much always fatal. It’s what Ted Kennedy died of.”
Mars was staring at the floor, his eyes wide in disbelief. “She never said anything to me. Nothing.”
“Did she show any signs of being sick?”
Mars pressed the towel against his face and began to sob into it.
Decker, unprepared for this, sat back and simply waited.
When the sobs finally subsided, Mars rubbed his face dry and slowly sat up, his chest still heaving.
“She’d lost weight. Didn’t have much of an appetite. And she had headaches. Migraines, she said.”
“Did she ever go to a hospital? Receive any treatment?”
“I can’t believe this. She had brain cancer and they didn’t tell me? She was dying and they didn’t think to mention it to their only child?”
“I know this is a shock, Melvin. But if she’d started treatment you would have known, right?”
“I don’t know. I was gone a lot. But she didn’t lose her hair or nothing like that. I would’ve noticed that.”
“Was she still working at the end?”
Mars looked up. “No. Dad said he wanted her to take a break. I just thought it was because of the money I’d be getting. I never…” His voice trailed away.
“Would they have gone to a doctor in town?”
“I guess. They had their dentist. And Mom used a chiropractor sometimes. All the work she did made her stiff.”
“Do you know the name of the doctor?”
“No.” He paused. “I guess back then it was all about me, Decker. I really didn’t have that much to do with my parents. I was so busy with football. But…but I still loved them. I was going to take care of them. But…shit.”
He looked down, his features full of a guilty misery.
“You were dealing with a lot for a young guy, Melvin. I wouldn’t beat yourself up too badly.”
“This brain cancer. Do you think it has anything to do with their deaths?”
“I don’t see how. But what I don’t see right now could fill a library.”
Mars sat up and wiped his face again. “What do I do if they let me loose, Decker?” he said in a hollow tone. He looked across at Decker like a little boy lost in a world he didn’t even know existed.
Decker appeared uncomfortable at this query and said nothing.
Mars looked down and continued, “I was nearly twenty-two when I left the world. I’m almost forty-two now. I was a kid then, now I’m a man. But back then I still had plans. Lots of ’em. Now, I don’t have a…damn clue what I’m supposed to do.”
He glanced up at Decker, saw the blank face staring back at him, and looked away. “Forget it. I’ll figure it out. Always do.”
“Let’s take it one step at a time, Melvin.”
“Yeah, right,” said Mars absently.
Decker leaned forward. It was time to discuss what he had come here to talk about.
“What if you didn’t do it and Charles Montgomery also didn’t do it?”
Mars sat up looking bewildered. “What?”
“What’s the third option, Melvin? That’s what I want to know.”
“Third option?”
“Your parents’ past is too fuzzy. Nobody looked at that back then because they had you dead to rights for the murders. But there are too many holes. There might be something in one of those holes that would explain why they were killed.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“But why don’t you believe Montgomery? He knew stuff from my house.”
“He could have been told all that by whoever really did it.”
“But why would he do that? Confess to a crime he didn’t commit?”
“Because he’s already a dead man. What’s two more murders? They can’t execute him a second time. And what if someone asked him to do it in return for setting up his wife and kid for life?”
Mars slumped back in his chair. “Set them up for life? That’s big money. My parents…why would anyone with big money care about them? Or care about getting me outta prison after all this time?”
“I don’t have answers for that. I just have the questions.”
Mars rubbed his face with a sweaty hand. “You’re throwing me for a loop with all this shit, man. First you tell me my mom had cancer and now this,” he added angrily.
“I figured you might want to know the truth. The real truth. If I spent twenty years of my life in prison for something I didn’t do, I’d want to know exactly who put me there. And why.”
Mars stared at him for a few seconds and then started to nod. “Yeah, me too. So how can I help?”
“By remembering anything you can about your parents. Something they said that seemed odd. Letters, phone calls they might have gotten that seemed off somehow. Visitors. Anything that might tell us where they really came from.”
“I’ll have to give that some thought.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”