Weir picked up Jim Morel. He was calm. Seemed happy. As they drove away, Jim said, "You know what, before we go out to the mall, can we stop to get a burger or something ... I'm starving."
"Sure."
Jim was thinking, I'm going to get this done and over with right now. First three minutes into our lunch. Jim's objective, he admitted, was to "save his own ass," as he put it. His plan was to get Weir to admit his culpability and, more important, when he told Jim about it. That would prove Jim knew nothing and couldn't have been involved.
They sat down. "Hey, that stuff you told me a few days ago," Jim said, "was pretty disturbing."
Weir thought for a moment ... "Oh yeah, you mean about the murder."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Oh ..." Weir said—and, all over again, proceeded to explain to Jim what happened.
They finished eating. That was easy enough. Jim could go get his sweater, go home and be done with it all.
But then the unexpected happened.




