“Protected against what?”
“Things have been rough, lately. They’re both under considerable stress.”
Milo opened the car door and put his gear in.
Bateman edged closer and spoke in a lower voice. “I don’t expect you to care, but Ken—Ken Sr.’s having some financial difficulties. Serious ones. The real-estate market.”
Milo straightened but didn’t answer.
“It’s a hard time for both of them,” said Bateman. “First Ken’s wife died, very sudden, an aneurysm. And now this. Ken built his business from nothing. Built this building twenty years ago and now it’s on the verge of foreclosure. And losing it won’t solve all his problems, there are plenty of other creditors. So you can see why he’d be nervous about the legal process. I’m his friend as well as his lawyer. I feel obligated to protect him as much as I can.”
“We’re not talking real estate, here, Mr. Bateman.”
The attorney nodded. “Truth is, I don’t know shit from shinola about criminal law and told Ken so. But he and I go back to grade school. He insisted on having me present.”
“So he thinks the boy needs legal help.”
“No, no, only in general terms—not getting shafted by the system. To be frank, Kenny’s no genius and he has a bad temper. So does Ken. So did his dad, for that matter. The whole damn bunch of them have short fuses, for all I know that’s how they got the family name.”
He smiled but Milo didn’t return it.
“Is Kenny an only child?”
“No, there’s a daughter up at Stanford Med.”
“The bright one.”
“Cheryl’s a whiz.”
“How do she and Kenny get along?”
“Fine, but Kenny’s never been at her level and everyone knows it. My point is, Detective, take those tempers and add all the stress, and without some sort of structure, there’s a good chance both of them would eventually get hot under the collar and pop off. Give the wrong impression.”
“Which is?”
“That Kenny’s capable of violence. He isn’t, believe me. He played football with my kid in high school, had the speed and the muscle but got dropped from the team because he wasn’t aggressive enough.”
“No killer instinct, huh?”
Bateman gave a pained look. “Furthermore, he assures me that on the night of the murder he was in San Diego.”
“Does he have someone to back that up?”
“No, but like I said, he’s no Einstein.”
“So?”
“What I read about the murder sounded thought-out: stalking the woman, leaving no physical evidence. That just isn’t Kenny. He might lose his cool and run his mouth, maybe even punch someone, but he calms down fast.”
“He’s smart enough to get into the U,” I said.
“A miracle,” said Bateman. “Believe me. Ken pulled in some alumnus chits, had him tutored, the boy took the SAT four times. Then he worked his butt off, but still couldn’t cut it. Couldn’t hack College of the Palms either. Now this. It couldn’t come at a worse time, in terms of his self-esteem. That’s why that cra—your remark about his having free time was hurtful. Being interrogated by the police isn’t pleasant. To be honest, Detective, he’s pretty scared about today.”
“He didn’t seem scared.”
“He puts on a show. Believe me, he’s scared.”
Milo finally smiled. “You like him, huh?”
“Yes, I do, Detective.”
The smile widened. “Well, I don’t, Mr. Bateman. ’Cause he hasn’t done anything to earn my liking him.”
“Det—”
“I’ve got a brutal, unsolved murder with a lot of angry overtones to it on my hands and what I see in your client is a big, strong, aggressive kid with a very nasty temper who’s been playing hard-to-get and finally shows up with Daddy acting antsy and a lawyer trying to block every syllable that comes out of my mouth. What do you want me to do, serve up my questions on a doily with parsley on the side? If I wanted to cater, I’d learn how to cook.”
Bateman bared his teeth again. The affect behind the mannerism was hard to gauge but his body language said submission.
“Of course not, Detective. Of course not, I’m just trying to—all right, let’s give it another try. Ask what you want, tape everything, but I’ll be taking detailed notes. And do try to remember this is a good kid.”