Jeff Sherratt - Guilty or Else

She didn’t respond, so I continued: “I’ll make you a deal. I want to win fair and square.” I paused when the busboy filled our water glasses. “I’ll play it strictly on the level and you continue to play it straight with me. Okay?”

A smile played on her lips. “I’ll go by the rules. But, I’ll make you another deal, as well.”

“Yeah, what?”

“You quit quoting Yogi Berra, and I won’t quote Oliver Wendell Holmes.”

Emilio appeared, pushing a small cabinet on wheels. It had our food on top and shelves underneath containing various culinary regalia. He picked up a fork and with it he crumbled a hunk of cheese in a large bowl, splashed in a shot of red vinegar, some olive oil, and sprinkled a pinch of coarse salt over the mixture.

“We only use sea salt.” He kept talking while vigorously working the bowl. “La Baleine, Sel de Mer, it comes from France,” he said with a phony French accent.

Why France? I asked myself. Is the ocean saltier over there? Guess so, the French must know their salt. Finally, Emilio served the salads. Bobbi daintily forked a piece of lettuce, and nibbled on it. I sipped my iced tea. “How did the cops find my client so fast?” I asked. “Or for that matter, the body? She was killed around midnight, and they busted Rodriguez at about five A.M. It was still dark out.”

She rearranged her bread plate, placing it on her left.

“Anonymous tip. The call came in around four in the morning. Male voice, didn’t give his name. Didn’t want to get involved. Told the police where to find the body and who did it.”

“What?” I exclaimed. “An anonymous tip? Don’t you find that weird? A murder is committed and the solution falls out of the sky, in the middle of the night, before the body had time to cool down.” My hand started to shake. I had to put the tea down; the ice cubes were clinking. “I don’t believe it. That never happens. Only in the movies.”

“No, it happens all the time. Some nearby resident or passerby doesn’t want to be identified. Maybe the person has an outstanding warrant, sees something, and calls it in.”

“Hey, the cops must’ve canvassed the neighborhood. Did they find anybody with an outstanding warrant, a hold, or anything to hide?”

She speared a crouton, and held the fork in front of her face. “I would’ve told you about it if they did. It doesn’t matter anyway; we have the killer in custody, locked up, with an overwhelming amount of evidence stacked against him.”

Marilee came to our booth with a plug-in phone. “Mr. O’Brien, you have a call. Would you like to take it here at your table? The caller said it’s urgent.”

I looked at Bobbi. “Do you mind?”

“No, of course not.”

Marilee plugged in the telephone.

“Jimmy, I’ve got news. Big news.” Sol, who else? “I know you’re having lunch with the Ice Princess, doubtless she’s at the booth with you right now. True?”

“Yeah.” Muffled racetrack noises echoed in the background. I heard the announcer call, “And there they go!”

“Did the race just start?” If Sol had a bet riding, he wouldn’t talk until it ended.

“I’m not down on this one. Maiden fillies, meshugas .”

I was eager to hear the news, but I didn’t want Bobbi to know I was talking to Sol. I turned my head and said in a low voice, “What’s up?”

“Jimmy, I’ll be brief. I know you can’t talk in front of Miss Rigid Frigid, and they have a policy about phones here at the track. All outgoing calls are taped. Bookmakers, you know-a plague on society, you know.”

“C’mon, tell me.”

“What?”

“You know. What you called me about.”

“Oh, you mean the news I heard.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Okay, hang on to your seat…” Sol paused for dramatic effect. He always did that. “It seems Senator Goody Two-Shoes Welsh was shtuping the victim, having an affair with her. The info comes from a tipster, whose identity shall remain undisclosed. But I’ll tell you this: the tip came from an extremely reliable source.” Then he whispered, “She was a long-lost friend of Gloria Graham.”

“You just whispered the person’s identity.”

“I wanted you to know.”

“Yeah, but-”

“But, what?”

“You said the phones were tapped. Oh, never mind. But, are you sure she’s on the level?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me a bit. I’ve known Berry Welch a long time. He’s always on the prowl, looking for someone to jump. Maybe it’s an occupational hazard, these power-mad politicians.”

I glanced at Bobbi, sitting across from me. She reached into the butter bowl and removed one of the foil-wrapped pats. With her polished fingernails, she delicately removed the wrapper and put the butter on her bread dish. She pretended not to eavesdrop.

Sol’s news shook me to my core, but I had to play it cool. “Uh huh,” I said to him as he continued to ramble on about Welch’s sexual peccadilloes.

“Jimmy, I gotta go. Angie and Burt just arrived. You know, Burt as in Bacharach?” Sol said. “Their table is next to mine. They’ve got a horse in the Crosby Stakes, and I need some info.” He shouted away from the phone, “Hey Angie, baby-” and the line went dead.

While I was on the phone, a busboy had zipped over and scooped up the dishes, including my untouched salad. I turned back at Bobbi. Her face held a mischievous smile.

“You look a little perplexed,” she said. “Something you ate? Or perhaps it was Silverman’s message?”

“Whose message?” I said.

“Sol Silverman, the investigator. The guy who’s helping you with the case.”

“Silverman? Helping me? Bobbi-”

“C’mon, Jimmy. Everybody knows you retained him. Not a bad move, if I may say so.”

How did she know about Sol so fast? Maybe she had spies too. Maybe everyone had spies. Christ, maybe I was the only one who didn’t have spies.

“You spying on me?”

Bobbi laughed. “You should be so lucky.”

I was a little unnerved that Bobbi knew about Sol and wondered what else she knew about me, or the case. I quickly ran through my mind the jailhouse discussion with Rodriguez. Was there anything we said during the interview that she could use? Not much. Everything we discussed would just help our side.

It would be a violation for the sheriff’s deputies guarding the jail to turn over to the D.A. anything overheard or recorded during a lawyer/client conference. But I knew it happened from time to time. Even if the information gleaned in this manner couldn’t be used in court, it could help the prosecution plan their trial strategy. Sometimes, the deputy D.A.’s had integrity and refused the proffered information, but that was an uncommon occurrence.

Bobbi had beauty and brains, but I wondered about her integrity. Would she play it straight? “Remember, Bobbi, we’re going to be square on this, no tricks. Right?”

“No tricks, he says, and coming out of the gate, he goes running to Silverman.”

“I’m not saying I did, but hypothetically, so what?”

“He knows more tricks than Rex the Wonder Dog.”

“Just a minute ago you said if I hired Sol it’d be a smart move.”

“Jimmy, you’re going to need all the help you can get. But, my friend, I’m still going to pound you into sand.” She flashed a half-second smile. “No offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “But with Rex the Wonder Dog on my side, how can I lose?”

The County picked up the lunch tab. I offered, but Bobbi insisted on paying. She said she had an expense account. We left the restaurant together; she went her way, and I went directly to Angelo’s Fat Burger for a real meal without the pompous bullshit. I asked the fry cook where he got his salt.