Deadly Diamonds Read Free

deep breath. “My son, Kevin. And it’s not a court matter. Not yet. It could be.”
    That was a horse of a different hue. The newspaper articles I was trying to pull back seemed to concede that the criminal life stopped with the father. The son was ensconced behind a Chinese wall, so to speak. He was, if memory served, a junior at Northeastern University.
    â€œIn that case, if you please, one dollar. Cash, check, or stamps. No credit cards.”
    He looked puzzled.
    â€œMr. O’Byrne, I don’t want to have to go to jail for not answering a prosecutor’s questions about whatever you’re about to tell me. You and your family are magnets for grand juries. Let me have a dollar, and for the moment—understand,
for the moment
—I’m retained counsel for you and your son. That means attorney-client privilege.”
    The furrows were gone, but so was the smile. He pointed a disconcerting finger in my direction.
    â€œLet there be no misunderstanding on that score, Mr. Knight. If you were to disclose anything said in this room to anyone, prison would be the least of your worries.”
    I had no answer. The cards were on the table, especially the ugly ones. My heart, soul, and mind reached a unanimous conclusion:
Get Charlie the hell up here and hit the street
. If I had fifty cents for every time in the next two weeks that I regretted not following that conclusion to the letter, I could retire to Bimini.
    â€œI’ll take the dollar now, Mr. O’Byrne.”
    He shrugged and reached into his pocket for a bill.
    Without another word, he led the way down the back set of stairs and turned left into an alleyway. I’d have valued Charlie’s company, but Mr. O’Byrne and I were both alone.
    Fifty feet into the alley, a bulb over a doorway picked up the gleam of a Cadillac, Black Diamond Edition, high end. I could make out the drooping figure of what looked like a boy in his late teens, head in his hands, sitting on the stoop beside it.
    â€œKevin, come over here.”
    The boy looked up and squinted at us, silhouetted against the backlight from the street. The voice brought him to his feet. He was closer to my height than his father’s five-foot something. He looked lean and athletic with a confident way of moving, but even in that light I could see red rims around his eyes.
    â€œKevin, this is Mr. Knight.”
    His hand came up automatically, but no sound.
    â€œTell him, Kevin.”
    He looked at his father like a child actor being pushed on stage by his mother.
    â€œTell him. He can help. I know how these things work.”
    He looked up at me from a slouch. I could hardly hear the words.
    â€œI was with two other kids. We … I never did anything like this. One thing led to another. It was like a dare. Dad, I don’t want—”
    A fist shot out of the father’s side that caught him in the ribs and straightened him up. The voice that went with it even straightened me up. “Speak like a man! You get into a man’s trouble, you act like a man.”
    The boy was looking me eye-to-eye now. The stammer was gone. He seemed to want to get it all out in one breath.
    â€œWe saw a man leave the keys in the car. They dared me to drive it around the block. They thought because of my father I’d dare to do it. The man came back when I was driving off. He ran down the street screaming. I panicked. I drove here.”
    â€œWhere was the car when you took it?”
    â€œIn front of Patrini’s Restaurant.”
    â€œOh, crap in spades. Tell me you don’t mean Patrini’s in the North End.”
    He just nodded. I looked over at his father who clearly understood the reason for the question.
    â€œI don’t suppose you’d know, but did anyone follow you here?”
    â€œI don’t think so. I was gone before they could catch up. It was dark, about midnight.”
    â€œWho were these kids? Are they from the North