Chapter 22: For the Record

The visiting room at the county jail had a table bolted to the floor and a camera in each corner.

Shane sat on the far side in an orange suit.

His hair was cut short and his face was clean, and he looked up at me and smiled.

It was the same smile.

A court stenographer sat by the wall with her hands on the keys.

His lawyer stood behind him.

Behind me, in a folding chair by the door, sat a small gray-haired woman in a church coat.

She had flown from Ohio that morning.

She held a purse in her lap with both hands, and she had not taken her eyes off Shane once.

"Lena," Shane said. "You look well."

"Say what you came to say."

"Not yet. I want to ask you something first."

I waited.

"Brynn told my lawyer I killed you once before," he said, lightly. "In some other life. She said it with a straight face.

"I'd like to hear it from you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't remember it." He tilted his head. "And I'm curious whether I enjoyed it."

His lawyer shifted.

I looked at him for a long moment.

"You stood behind me on that terrace," I said.

"You pushed me. And when I hit the rocks, you looked at your watch."

"What time was it?"

"Twenty to ten."

He laughed.

It was a soft, delighted sound.

"I would have had a reservation," he said. "It's very like me."

"Shane," his lawyer said.

"I'm fine." He folded his hands. "I'll say it now. For the record."

The stenographer's keys began to move.

"My name is Shane Whitaker," he said, quite formally.

"Nine years ago I took a girl named Phoebe to a roof in Cambridge.

"She had found out about the joint account. She wanted to go home to Ohio.

"I held her hand. I walked her to the edge. I let go."

Behind me the woman in the church coat made a sound.

Shane didn't turn.

"I took her savings and I kept her bracelet.

"I cut the rail at the Caldwell summer house. I drugged Brynn Holloway. I put my hands on Lena Caldwell and I pushed her.

"I meant it every time."

"That's enough," his lawyer said.

"It's not," said Shane. "I'd do it again. Put that down."

The stenographer's hands shook, and she typed it.

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