"Look, Patrick, I will not hear your case, so I'm not here as your Judge. I'm not your lawyer. I'm your friend. You can talk to me."
Patrick reached for a small can of orange juice with a straw in it. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No."
He took a short drink and put the can back on the table. "I guess it sounds romantic, doesn't it? The dream of simply walking away, vanishing into the night and when the sun comes up you're somebody new. All your problems are left behind-the drudgery of work, the heartbreak of a bad marriage, the pressure of becoming more and more affluent. You have that dream, don't you, Karl?"
"I guess everybody does at some point. How long did you plan it?"
"A long time. I seriously doubted that the baby was mine. I decided-"
"I beg your pardon."
"It's true, Karl. I'm not the father. Trudy slept around throughout our marriage. I loved the child as best I could, but I was miserable. I gathered evidence and promised myself I would confront Trudy, but it was easy to put off. Oddly enough, I sort of got used to the idea that she had a lover. I was planning to leave, but I just didn't know how to do it. So I read a couple of underground books on how to change identities and obtain new papers. It's not complicated. Just takes a little thought and planning."
"So you grew a beard and gained fifty pounds."
"Yeah, I was amazed at how different I looked with the beard. That was right about the time I made partner, and I was already burned out. I was married to a woman who wasn't faithful, playing with a child who wasn't mine, working with a bunch of people I couldn't stand. Something clicked,,Karl. I was driving one day along Highway 90, headed somewhere important but stuck in traffic, and I looked out across the Gulf. There was a lonely little sailboat barely moving on the horizon. And I wanted so desperately to be on it, to sail away to some place where no one knew me. I sat there, watching it move, aching so badly to swim out to it. I cried, Karl. Can you believe that?"
"We all have days like that."
"Then I snapped, and I was never the same afterward. I knew I would vanish."
"How long did it take?"
"I had to be patient. Most people get in a hurry when they decide to disappear, and they make mistakes. I had time. I wasn't broke or running from creditors. I bought a two-million-dollar life insurance policy, and that took three months. I knew I couldn't leave Trudy and the baby with nothing. I started gaining the weight, eating like a maniac. I changed my will. I convinced Trudy that we should make our funeral and burial arrangements, and I did it without arousing suspicions."
"Cremation was a nice touch."
"Thanks. I highly recommend it."
"Makes it impossible to determine cause of death and identity, a few important things like that."
"Let's not talk about that."
"Sorry."
"Then I got wind of Mr. Benny Aricia, and his little war with the Pentagon and Platt & Rockland Industries. Bogan kept him under wraps. I dug deeper and found out that Vitrano and Rapley and Havarac were all in on the deal. All the partners but me. They changed, Karl, all of them. They became secretive and devious. Sure I was the new guy, but I was a partner after all. They had voted unanimously to make me a full partner, and two months later they were dodging me while they conspired with Aricia. Suddenly, I was the guy doing all the traveling, which worked out just beautifully for everyone. Trudy could arrange her little trysts. The partners could meet with Aricia without hiding. They sent me everywhere, which was fine with me too because I was making plans. Once I went to Fort Lauderdale for three days of depositions, and while I was there I found a guy in Miami who could do perfect papers. Two thousand bucks and I had a new driver's license, passport, Social Security card, and voter registration papers from right here in Harrison County. Carl Hildebrand was my name, in honor of you."
"I'm touched."
"In Boston, I tracked down a guy who can get you lost. For a thousand bucks I had my own one-day seminar on how to vanish. In Dayton, I hired a surveillance expert who taught me about bugs and mikes and dirty little devices like that. I was patient, Karl. Very patient. I stayed at the office at odd hours, and gathered as much of the Aricia story as I could get. I listened hard, quizzed secretaries, rummaged through the garbage. Then I began wiring offices, just a couple at first to learn how it's done. I wired Vltrano's, and I couldn't believe what I heard. They were going to kick me out of the firm, Karl. Can you believe it? They knew their cut from the Aricia settlement would be around thirty million, and they were planning to split it four ways. But the pieces would not be equal. Bo-gan, of course, would get more, something close to ten million. He had to take care of some people in Washington. The other three would get five million, and the rest would be spent on the firm. I, as it was planned, would be on the streets."
"When was this?"
"Throughout most of '91. Aricia's claim got tentative Justice approval to settle on December 14, 1991, and at that time it was taking about ninety days to get the money. Not even the Senator could speed things along."
"Tell me about the car wreck."
Patrick shifted his weight, then kicked his legs from under the sheet and got out of bed. "A cramp," he mumbled as he stretched his back and legs. He stood by the bathroom door, rocking gently from one foot to the other, looking down at Karl. "It was a Sunday."
"February ninth."
"Right. February ninth. I spent the weekend at my cabin, and as I was driving home I had a wreck, got killed, and went to heaven."
Karl watched him closely and never smiled. "Try it again," he said.
"Why, Karl?"
"Morbid fascination."
"Is that all?"
"I promise. It was such a masterful job of deceit, Patrick. How'd you do it?"
"I may have to skip a few of the details."
"I'm sure you will."
"Let's take a walk. I'm tired of this place."
They entered the hall, and Patrick explained to his guards that he and the Judge needed a stroll. The deputies followed at a distance. A nurse smiled and asked if she could bring anything. Two Diet Cokes, Patrick said politely. Patrick walked very deliberately, saying nothing until they came to the end of the hallway, where plate-glass windows overlooked the parking lot. They sat on a vinyl bench, looking back down the hall, where the deputies waited fifty feet away with their backs turned to them.
Patrick wore scrub pants, no socks, leather sandals.
"Have you seen pictures of the crash site?" he asked, very quietly.
"Yes."
"I found it the day before. The ravine is fairly steep, and I thought it was the perfect place to have the accident. I waited until about ten, Sunday night, and left the cabin. I stopped at a little store at the county line."
"Verhall's."
"Right, Verhall's. I filled the tank."
"Twelve gallons, fourteen dollars and twenty-one cents, paid with a credit card."
"That sounds right. I chatted with Mrs. Verhall, then left. There wasn't much traffic. Two miles away, I turned pnto a gravel road and went a mile to a spot I had picked out. I stopped, opened the trunk, and proceeded to get dressed. I had a set of gear used by dirt bikers-a helmet, shoulder pads, knee and hand pads, the works. I quickly put it on over my clothing, everything but the helmet, then returned to the highway, where I drove south. The first time, there was a car behind me. The second time, there was a car coming toward me in the distance. I braked hard anyway, leaving skid marks. There was no traffic the third time. I put the helmet on, took a deep breath, and left the road. It was scary as hell, Karl."