Lisa Scottoline - Dead Ringer

Needleman scoffed. “We have none. The prime suspect is the John Doe who killed the Belgian banker. Tell the family we are actively pursuing that theory.”

Bennie nodded. “Now, did the autopsy yield anything?”

“No.”

“Type of knife?”

“Common.”

She thought of the Palm. “Steak knife?”

“I said common.”

“Any prints at the scene?”

“No.”

“Blood, fibers, or other evidence?”

“Not yet.”

“I would think so, there had to be some sort of struggle.”

“We’re working on it.”

“Any witnesses?”

“No.”

“You talk to anybody at the Palm?” Bennie was going to keep asking questions until he stopped her, which he did, turning to the office door.

“No. Don’t undermine us with the family. The department doesn’t need more of that.” The detective paused on the threshold. “The very next time you step out of line, you’re in trouble, Rosato. Fool me once, but don’t fool me twice. Good-bye.” He turned and walked away.

“Got it, Detective!” Bennie called after him. “Sorry, and thanks for coming by.” She gave his back a little wave of friendship and farewell.

As soon as he was gone, David turned to her with an incredulous grin. “I’m your secretary? ”

“My really big secretary. Why not? I love secretaries. After mothers, they’re the unsung heroes of the world.”

“But me ?”

“Can’t a woman lawyer have a male secretary?”

“Not this male,” David said, then shook it off. “Did you really do what that detective said you did?”

“Guilty.” Bennie was already reaching for her phone messages. She needed to pick a lunch partner. “You gonna yell at me too?”

“Hell no. I’m just mad you didn’t take me with you.”

“Really?” Bennie looked up with the same warm rush she’d felt before, and David was smiling at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now what are you doing there?”

“Picking a lunch partner. It’s either my friend Sam or a potential client, Mort Abrams.” Bennie found the message slips, so she had both numbers. “It’s almost noon, and I can’t decide who to eat with.”

“Oh, you lawyers have big problems.”

“Hey, it matters. At least today it does.”

“I’m just the undercover bodyguard. All I care about is where you’re gonna eat.”

“That’s all I care about too. And that, I already know.”

“Aha, I see,” David said, catching up, and Bennie smiled.

“You’re learning, sailor.”

Silverware jingled as busboys cleared empty tables, ice cubes clinked in scotch glasses carried on round trays, and waiters in white coats rustled as they moved professionally between the tables packed with lunchtime patrons, who were buzzing with laughter and conversation. The Palm was one of the most popular restaurants in the city because of location, not decor. The design was early steakhouse, and the walls were blanketed with hand-painted head shots of local celebrities, like TV weathermen. But with City Hall, the Criminal Justice Center, and major hotels within a three-block radius, politicians, lawyers, and tourists flocked to the place, gobbling down grilled New York strip steaks and humongous Gulf shrimp.

Bennie plucked one of her huge shrimp from its orangy sea of cocktail sauce. “This qualifies as a lethal weapon in most jurisdictions.”

“I am above size jokes, honey.” Sam scooped a cherrystone into his mouth and leaned over his plate of tiny clamshells, with a pool of gritty water at the bottom. “So tell me what progress the cops have made.”

“None. And thanks for the check, by the way. I did cash it, you devil.”

“Ain’t I a stinker?” They shared a table by the window, overlooking Broad Street. Indirect light brightened the spot, and Sam used it to examine his fingernails after he’d wiped his hands on the thick cloth napkin. “I’m so sorry about your client.”

“Me, too. Robert was a wonderful man. You would have loved him.”

“I’m sure. I love anybody who talks like Pepé Le Pew.” Sam sipped his ice water and eyed the traffic out the window, on Broad. “You think it was this tourist thing?”

“It’s a possibility.” Bennie stopped herself before she filled him in on her other suspicions, especially about Alice. Sam would just yell at her, or worry about her, which was worse. “I’m leaving this one to the cops.”

Sam set down his water in disbelief. “You are?”

“Yes.”

“You’re staying out of it?”

“Absolutely.” Bennie nodded in a way she hoped was convincing. Of course, this act could put a damper on her plan to interrogate whoever had waited on Mayer and Robert last night. She’d have to be clever and deceitful, neither of which came naturally to her. “I have too much to deal with right now, what with Alice and the firm’s finances, or lack thereof.”

“I quite agree.” Sam’s expression turned grave, the corners of his reddish mustache turning down. “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss that somebody is out there targeting foreigners. The way the mood has been in this country lately, there’s a lot more xenophobia. It’s just another form of hate crime, and believe me, you don’t have to convince a gay man that hate crimes exist. I have a friend who’s gay and Iranian. He shaved his beard and went drag.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Bennie was drawing her own parallels, to the Brandolini case and the internment camps. She’d said good-bye to Mary before she’d left for lunch and felt proud of her. “Strange things happen when people feel threatened, don’t they?”

“Sure do.” Sam sighed. “Anyway, I have to tell you, as bad as I felt for your client, I felt worse for you. I don’t want to think about what losing his case means for you, Bennie. It’s a financial disaster. You have to let me give you some more money, at least lend it to you, with your house in play-”

“Not so fast,” Bennie interrupted him. “Robert’s murder may not drop me from the class action, if whoever succeeds him wants to continue the suit. I already have a call in to the vice president, who should know. And I’m getting phone calls from the other class members. I even had one invite me to lunch, but I chose you because you’re way more fun.”

“Also I’d pick up the tab.”

“Okay, that, too. Sorry. Also, guess what? I was offered two million bucks for my firm this morning.”

“What?” Sam dropped his clam fork. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?” So Bennie filled him in on the meeting with Linette. Sam’s thin, fair skin colored with excitement as she spoke, so brightly that she thought his navy-patterned bow tie was cutting off his oxygen. When she got to the part about the company Porsche, he got so hot and bothered that he had to take off his blazer. When she was finished, he reached over and put his fine, if clammy, hand over hers. “Bennie, I have one word for you. Sell.”

“Why?”

“No, three words. Sell, sell, sell. ” Sam wet his lips “Or how about, sell right now. Or, sell it, honey.”

“I built that firm. I saw it through everything. I grew it to full staff. I worked my ass off. Why should I sell out?”

“It’s not selling out, it’s selling, and are you seriously asking me why ? Why ? You’re bankrupt, you idiot! Did you forget? ” Sam rolled his eyes behind his hip glasses. “Bennie, listen up. Some money is better than no money. This is an essential financial principle, and even you can understand it. Take the money. Also three words.”

“But Linette’s only buying us to keep the class. He doesn’t care about Rosato amp; Associates.”