Totes was quiet.
“Carl?”
“I … I don’t know nothin’ ’bout that.”
Decker sighed. “See, Carl, your hair was found on Lilah Brecht’s sheets. How do you explain that?”
Totes shook his head, his expression was pained.
Decker said, “You don’t have any idea how your hair was found on Lilah Brecht’s sheets?”
“Nossir.”
“Well, Carl, if you didn’t visit her the night she was raped, maybe you visited her the night before …”
Totes looked up. “I don’t get what you’re asking me.”
“Have you and Lilah ever had sex, Carl?”
Totes turned angry red. “That’s a turrible question.”
“I’ve got to ask you these questions, Carl. Have you and Lilah ever had sex?”
“Nossir!”
Decker ran his hands through his hair. “Now, you got me confused again, Carl. If you’ve never had sex with Lilah, how’d your semen get on her sheets?”
Totes was still scarlet. “Like you said, mister, you’re confused. So why should I answer your questions, if you don’t even know what you’re talkin’ about?”
Totes folded his hands across his chest, his mouth hardening. Decker appraised him. Totes was the kind of guy who mistook soft-spokenness for weakness. Decker liked the good-cop approach to questioning, but it wasn’t going to work here. Time to shift gears.
“Carl, you said you were in the stable the entire time on the night Lilah Brecht was raped.”
“Yessir.”
“The entire night.”
“Yessir.”
“You never left once?”
“Nossir.”
“Not to go to the bathroom?”
“Nossir, I got a horse’s bladder.”
Marge tried to stifle a smile, but was only partially successful. Decker said, “So you never left the stable that night. Not even once?”
“No … nossir.”
“Carl, how did your hairs get on Lilah Brecht’s sheets?” Decker kept his voice even. “How did your semen get on her sheets?”
“I … I don’t … I—”
“Carl, where were you the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”
“In the stable.”
“C’mon, Carl, stop giving me a hard time. Tell me, how did your semen get on Lilah’s sheets?”
Totes squeezed his hat until his knuckles turned white. “I didn’t rape her.”
“Okay, you didn’t rape her. How’d your hair get on her sheets, Carl? How’d your semen get on the sheets?”
Totes didn’t answer.
“Carl, where were you the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”
“In my stable—”
Decker pounded the table so hard, both Totes and Marge jumped. He waited a beat, then calmly resumed. “Carl, how’d your hair get on Lilah Brecht’s sheets if you were in the stable the night she was raped?”
Totes looked down.
“Have you ever had sex with Lilah Brecht, Carl?”
“I already told you no!”
“So you never had sex with her—”
“Why’re you repeatin’ yourself?”
“’Cause you’re not explaining to me how your semen got on Lilah Brecht’s sheets. How’d that happen, Carl?”
Totes didn’t answer.
Decker said, “Where were you the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”
“In my stable.”
“The whole night?”
“The whole night.”
“You didn’t go out and no one came to see you?”
Totes started to speak, then turned silent. Decker picked up on it.
“Someone came to see you the night Lilah Brecht was raped, Carl?”
Again, Totes didn’t answer. Decker reseated himself next to the stable hand. “Who came to see you the night Lilah Brecht was raped, Carl? Who came to your stable?”
There was a long hesitation before Totes said, “I cain’t tell you that.”
Decker ran his fingers through his hair. “Who came to see you, Carl?”
“I cain’t …”
“How’d your semen get on Lilah Brecht’s sheets, Carl?”
“I … I don’t know.”
Decker said, “Carl, did you see Lilah Brecht the night she was raped?”
Totes shook his head.
“Carl, answer yes or no. Did you see Lilah Brecht the night she was raped?”
“Nossir.”
But Decker knew he was lying, and that made him feel like an ass. All this time he’d been sure Totes was innocent. His gut had told him that. The old gut had been wrong. The stable hand had suddenly turned pale. Decker said, “You want something to drink, Carl? You look a little funny.”
Totes’s expression became mulish. “I’m fine, mister. Be more fine if you’d stop confusin’ me.”
“Then just answer the questions one at a time, Carl. Did you see Lilah Brecht the night she was raped?”
“I told you no.”
“Did you see Lilah Brecht the night she was raped, Carl?”
“Goldern it!” Totes said, “I told you I don’t remember.”
“No, you didn’t, Carl. You told me nossir, you didn’t see her. That’s what you said. But now, you’re telling me you don’t remember—”
“’Cause you’re mixin’ me—”
“You’re mixing yourself up. Which is it, Carl? Nossir or you don’t remember? Did you see Lilah Brecht the night she was raped?”
Totes was breathing heavy. “Nossir.”
“How did your semen get on her sheets, Carl?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you rape Lilah Brecht, Carl?”
“I don’t … you’re confusin’ me!”
Silence.
Decker said, “Carl, how did your hair get on her sheets?”
“I … don’t know.”
“Who came to your stable the night Lilah Brecht was raped?”
“No one.”
“Before, you said you couldn’t tell me. Now you’re telling me no one. Which is it? Who came to see you at the stable the night Lilah Brecht was raped. Who?”
“I … I … I cain’t tell you.”
“How’d