AT THE POLICE STATION later that morning, Helen is getting irritable.
“Tom,” she says to me in the break room around the corner from the interrogation room, “him not talking only makes him look guilty.”
“I know that, but it’s his right not to talk to you. You know that.”
“Yes, yes, I know, but he hasn’t asked for a lawyer yet.”
I look towards the interrogation room. “Honestly, I’m not sure he will.”
She looks perplexed. “Why?”
I shake my head. “He feels guilty about something. I have a good idea about what, but he has said nothing to me either.”
“So,” she says slowly, “you haven’t heard his confession?”
“No, he hasn’t asked me to hear it.” I trace the rim of my coffee cup. “He needs to. He knows that. But he’s taking his punishment on himself for what he did. Whatever that was.”
“
