Suspended Sentences by Brian Garfield

Author:Brian Garfield [Garfield, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com / Open Road
Published: 2012-04-15T05:34:20+00:00

THE CHALK OUTLINE

“The Chalk Outline” was a visceral response to an accident that involved a friend. The story is an attempt to restate and clarify a point I tried to make in DEATH WISH. I probably would not write the same story today because it seems too much of an endorsement of the character’s behavior; it does not show the distinction between attractive fantasy and destructive reality.

She wasn’t even hurrying.

She turned the corner, driving sedately, and without warning the Murdochs’ new puppy squirted into the lane like a seed popping from a squeezed lemon. Carolyn braked and turned, avoiding it, and that was when the little Murdoch girl, chasing the puppy, grenaded out from behind the hedge and it just wasn’t possible to stop in time.

The lawyer’s name was Charles Berlin. He had represented her in the divorce. He was the only attorney she’d ever dealt with. “This isn’t my usual kind of case,” he told her. “If you’d feel more comfortable with a criminal lawyer…?”

“Criminal?” She hadn’t thought of it like that.

“Manslaughter’s a crime,” he said gently.

It took her a moment to absorb what he was saying. Her mind hadn’t been tracking very well since it happened. “I’m sorry,” she said, and shook her head as if to clear it.

“Don’t get into the habit of saying that all the time,” he said.

“What?”

“That’s about the tenth time you’ve said ‘I’m sorry’ since you walked in here.”

“I’m sor —” Then she nearly laughed.

He smiled at her. “That’s better.”

He was a kind man; she’d appreciated that in him two years ago — he’d handled the divorce with grace and without abrasiveness. She tried to compose herself by sitting up straighter and tossing her hair back and glancing around the office as if to get her bearings. The room was like Charles’s person — ordinary, matter-of-fact, quietly attractive. He was, she supposed, about five years older than she was — forty or so.

Carolyn said, “I just don’t know what to do. What do you suggest?”

“I’ll handle it if you like. I don’t think it’ll be difficult. Technically you’ve committed a crime but it obviously wasn’t intentional. I hardly think they’ll throw the book at you.” And again the reassuring smile. It was the first time she’d ever noticed the dimple in his left cheek.

He was a comfortable and comforting sort of man: very low-key but she supposed he’d cultivated that because a good many of his clients must be people who needed soothing.

He leaned back in his swivel chair with one leg crossed over the other knee, pivoting on the ankle, a yellow pad against the upraised knee and a pencil against his teeth. “Okay. Take it easy. I’m going to have to ask some direct questions. Ready?”

She dipped her head, assenting.

“Formally, then — you acknowledge that you ran down the child?”

She closed her eyes. She knew she’d have to force the words out sooner or later. It might as well be now.

“Yes. I killed the little girl.”

It was all prearranged — an agreement between Charles and the State’s Attorney.

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