Episodul 31 · It Fits Too Well

The investigator called Thursday morning, a few minutes after eight, while Soles had not yet finished his coffee.

— Can you come by today?

— Did something happen?

— We’ll talk here.

Soles left his coffee and went to tell Maxim. Whatever the investigator had found, he wanted to hear it before he spent another morning imagining it.

Maxim drove him in the truck, postponing a collection until after lunch. Neither mentioned yesterday at the riverbed.

Maxim parked the truck outside police headquarters. Soles went in alone, keeping his bandaged left hand against his coat.

He waited forty minutes beneath a clock that ran two minutes fast. An elderly woman opposite held a shopping bag against her chest. Neither spoke.

When the door opened, the investigator came out himself to get him. He shook Soles’s hand without smiling and led him into a small office with a window onto the inner courtyard and a dried ficus on the sill. He indicated the chair. He sat opposite and placed both palms on the closed file.

— Kerr confessed, he said.

Soles did not move.

— Last night. With his lawyer present. Everything.

— What does everything mean?

The investigator opened the file. He did not turn it toward Soles. He read from it in the low, even voice of a man who had read this several times already and was trying not to add anything.

For years, Banks had received money from donations meant for restoring the garden. Some of the work had been invoiced twice. Some had never been done at all. The reinforcement of the bank along the old riverbed, with stone blocks brought in by barge, had been billed for three times the amount actually placed there. The crane that had set the blocks was Marta. The crew’s chief engineer was Kale.

— According to the statement, the investigator continued, your father noticed the difference. He kept a notebook of the loads, as many crew chiefs do. He saw the invoice somehow—Kerr didn’t explain that part clearly. He threatened to take the notebook to city hall.

Kale had checked every load himself. Soles could believe in the notebook. He wanted to see it, not hear what Kerr said it contained.

— Kerr says he went to talk to him. To persuade him. That the conversation got out of control in the yard. That your mother came out of the greenhouse and saw.

The investigator paused.

— And that he fired. He says you arrived while he was leaving, and he panicked.

— He was waiting beside the kitchen door.

— That is what you told us. It remains in your statement.

Soles heard a small sound and only a moment later realized it was his own. His breathing, stopped and started again too quickly.

— Who sent him?

— He says no one. Says it was his idea. That Banks was effectively his company, even if someone else’s name was on the papers. That he had the most to lose.

— That isn’t true.

The investigator looked at him.

— How do you know?

— He told me. In Ivo’s yard. He said none of it was his idea.

— You told me. I wrote it down. I asked him. He says he was trying to get rid of you.

— And the other sentence?

The investigator turned a page.

— You weren’t supposed to be there. You were supposed to come later. He says he had been waiting for you to be at work. That he watched the house for two days and knew you came home in the evening. That he didn’t want witnesses.

Every question had an answer.

The invoices were real. So were the stone blocks and Marta. But a true invoice could not tell him who had sent Kerr through their gate.

It fit too well.

Usually, when a repair explained itself that neatly, Soles checked what he had left out. Here, the explanation left out a man in a gray car.

— And the gray car? he asked.

— The partial plate leads nowhere. There are several hundred possible combinations.

— And the man who asked Serren to vouch for him?

— Serren refuses to name him. We can’t force him. He isn’t accused of anything.

— And the money Kerr asked Serren for? Because someone was looking for him?

— You were looking for him.

The investigator shut the file.

— Listen to me. We have a man who admitted he killed your parents. He gave details we can verify and have already verified. The prosecutor has enough to bring charges. You should be…

He stopped. Did not finish the sentence. Soles was more grateful for that than for anything else the man had said that morning.

— Can I see him?

— No.

— Just one minute.

— No. You called before you went yesterday. I told you to wait. Your cousin had to call again because you crossed anyway. Next time, listen.

He stood. Soles stood too, slowly, one hand on the chair back.

In the corridor, a metal door opened beside the basement stairs. Two officers came out with Kerr between them, wrists cuffed, right arm still bandaged.

Soles stopped.

Kerr saw him. He did not stop, but his step changed, only slightly, like a man finding a stair lower than he expected. For three steps they looked at each other across the length of the corridor.

Then Kerr shook his head. Once. Briefly.

It was not a threat. It was not an apology. Soles did not know what it was. It looked like the gesture you make to someone about to put a hand on something hot.

The officers took him down the stairs. The metal door closed behind them.

— Mr. Soles?

The voice came from behind him, beside the investigator’s office. Soles turned.

The man wore a well-tailored navy suit, his tie properly tightened, a slim leather briefcase under one arm. He was compact, with a smooth, narrow face and hair combed close to his scalp. Nothing about him seemed out of place in the corridor.

— I’m Mr. Kerr’s attorney, he said. I only wanted to tell you how deeply sorry I am for your loss.

He held out his hand.

Soles did not take it. The man lowered his hand without appearing offended. An expensive watch slipped beneath his cuff.

— How do you know my name? Soles asked.

— It’s in the file, Mr. Soles.

The smile stayed. Too polite for a police corridor.

— My client has chosen to cooperate, the lawyer continued. I believe it’s the best thing for everyone. Especially for you. Now you can rest.

— Rest.

— You’ve been through a great deal.

The investigator watched them from the doorway without a word.

The lawyer inclined his head slightly in farewell and passed Soles toward the stairs. His shoes made no sound on the tile. Halfway down the corridor he stopped for a moment, looked at the wall clock, then at his own, and adjusted something on the dial with his thumb.

He went down.