Andrew Price - Without A Hitch

“I’m not putting all my eggs in that basket, but we need something from him. If both Russell and Webb stick with their stories, then we have a problem.”

“What’s the plan?”

“The prisoner’s dilemma. Two guys are accused of the same crime. If they keep their stories straight, they both get off. But if you can separate them and offer them each a deal, they’ll rat each other out because they’re afraid of being ratted out themselves. We just need to find out what kind of deal makes Webb tick.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve met a lot of cops. The young guys are motivated by doing the right thing, a sense of honor. The older guys are motivated by keeping their jobs. The political guys just want to get promoted. Webb’s young and he showed no interest in getting promoted. That tells me he’s all about honor. So we offer him a chance to come clean and protect his honor.”

“Unless I miss my guess, you just did that and he declined.”

“ So far he’s declined,” Beckett corrected him. “Give him time.”

“Should we try again to set up an interview with Russell?”

“No, let Webb wonder why we haven’t spoken to Russell. Hopefully, he’ll think Russell is selling him out to save himself.”

Webb sat in his cruiser a block from the coffee shop. He stared at his reflection in the rearview mirror. After some seconds, he turned his radio on again and started the cruiser. He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and pulled up the prosecutor’s number. He looked in the mirror again before returning the phone to his jacket. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said to himself.

There was nothing Corbin or Beckett could do on the case until they met with the judge, which wouldn’t happen for another week. In the meantime, Corbin returned to the Washington office. He wanted to see if anyone there had heard anything about the case. It only took Corbin a few minutes to discover that nothing had changed in his absence and no one knew anything. So he sat at his desk watching the clock. After lunch, he got bored, so he paid Molly a visit. Her desk was covered in catalogs. She held a dozen more in her lap.

“Hey, you’re a guy, right?” Molly asked.

“Last time I checked.”

“Then I need your help. In most things, reading you people is like reading a picture book. But when it comes to gifts, you’re all absolutely incomprehensible.”

“On behalf of ‘we people’ everywhere, I thank you. . I think.” Corbin sat down in the extra chair by the door after moving Molly’s overcoat from the chair to the coat rack and setting her purse on the floor. “Who’s the gift for?”

“Shoe Guy.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“Birthday.” Molly flipped through a catalog, looking for a page she had marked.

“What are we talking about in terms of price?”

“Price is no obstacle, but let’s keep it under fifty bucks.” Molly found the page. “How about this?” She handed Corbin the catalog and indicated a lamp she had circled.

Corbin frowned. “A lamp? Is his place dark or something?”

“No, but his decorating stinks.”

“Ok, hold on. Before we go any further, I need a little clarification. Are you trying to get him something he will like or something you want him to like ?”

Molly pursed her lips.

“I see. The key element is that it makes you happy that he has it.”

“Close enough.”

“What are his interests?” Corbin asked.

Molly shrugged her shoulders. “We spend a lot of time at the movies. Sometimes we watch TV at his place. We go to restaurants. He seems to like Italian food.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“What does he do when you aren’t with him?”

“How the heck would I know?”

“Don’t you talk?”

Molly again pursed her lips. “You really are testy today, aren’t you? Trouble with the perfect girlfriend?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Corbin answered defensively. He’d blown Penny off three nights in a row and he knew that was a mistake.

“Well, you look stressed. I’d offer you a massage, but I don’t like you that much.” Molly smirked.

“Is this your attempt to change the subject?”

“No, but you’re not being helpful asking me about things I couldn’t possibly know,” Molly said defensively as she grabbed the catalog from Corbin. “Just answer the question: what should I buy him?”

“Buy him a book.”

Molly’s eyes lit up. “A book?!”

“Yes, a book.”

“Good idea! They’re cheap. He might even learn something.” She smiled. “This is why it’s good to keep some of you people around.”

Corbin and Penny sat at a table near the window. They were waiting for their meals to arrive. She looked mostly at the table and rarely at Corbin, and she hadn’t smiled. Corbin noticed, but hadn’t said anything yet.

“You look tired,” Penny said.

“I feel tired. It’s been a long week.” He sipped his Coke.

“How’s your aunt?”

“I don’t know yet,” he replied. “The next few weeks could make all the difference.”

“Did you call Blue?” she asked, despite knowing the answer. She’d spent the week trying to convince Blue that Corbin had merely forgotten to call. Blue was particularly upset Corbin never returned the message where he explained how Rex wanted to sign him to a record deal and how it was urgent that Corbin call him. Corbin deleted that message without listening to it.

Corbin winced and slapped his forehead. “Shoot, I forgot to call him,” he lied.

“You should call him. He’s got some great news for you.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t you ask him ?” Penny said, trying to emphasize that Corbin needed to call.

“Because I’m asking you!” Corbin blurted out, surprising both Penny and himself. “Wow, I’m sorry. I’ve been dealing with some difficult people all week. That has me on edge. I didn’t mean that. I really didn’t.”

Penny kept looking at the table.

“I really am sorry,” he repeated. “Forgive me?”

“Is that why you didn’t return my calls all week?”

“Yes. I’m sorry about that. I just got so carried away with everything going on. I literally never had a moment to myself.”

“You’ll call Blue?”

“Yes, I’ll call Blue. I swear.”

Penny seemed placated, but for the first time they ran out of things to talk about.

Corbin returned to Philadelphia the day before the hearing. It was 11:30 in the morning. Beckett was on the phone trying to track down witnesses. Ever since he bombed Corbin’s cross examination, Beaumont had started oozing helpfulness; witnesses were his latest offering. Corbin knew Beckett would be tied up for at least an hour. This presented him with the chance he had been waiting for to search Beckett’s hotel.

To make sure Beckett wouldn’t leave the office, Corbin asked Beckett to watch for a fax they were expecting from Judge Sutherlin’s clerk, regarding their first scheduled hearing. He told Beckett the fax would contain the hearing date and time and might need an immediate reply. In truth, the fax was already safely hidden in Corbin’s briefcase. Corbin then excused himself, ostensibly to get some lunch.

As he stepped into the Tribune Building elevator, Corbin double-checked his pocket to make sure he had the electronic keycard which would let him into Beckett’s hotel room. Corbin took the key earlier from Beckett’s desk when Beckett visited the restroom. The name and address of the hotel and Beckett’s room number were on the paper sleeve in which the card rested.

The hotel was six blocks away. Corbin jogged most of the way. As he entered the hotel, he walked right past the front desk without stopping. The clerk hardly noticed him. When he reached room 214, Corbin inserted the key. It clicked. Corbin entered the room. Beckett’s personal effects were spread everywhere. Corbin searched everything, even between the mattresses, but found no wallet and no stacks of cash. After replacing everything the way he found it, Corbin made his way to the parking garage. He knew Beckett’s car, as he’d been in it many times. He also knew the driver-side door lock was broken, so he didn’t need to smash a window. His search came up empty.