Филипп Марголин - The Perfect Alibi

“Not until I told her.”

“My investigator talked to several of the guys you talked to after the game. They say that Randi did know about the party.”

“Then I guess Randi may have heard about it.”

“Blaine Hastings said he found out about the party from some of the PSU players. It must be the same guys.”

“Maybe.”

“Did the guys tell you Blaine was going to be at the party?”

Roche’s shoulders folded in. “Uh, no. Not that I remember.”

“Dino Portis told my investigator that Randi knew and you were standing next to her when she found out.”

“Maybe I did know. I’m not sure.”

“If you and Randi hated Blaine, why did you go to a party he was going to attend?”

“There’s a lot of people at those parties. We weren’t going to hang out with him.”

“But Randi did. She danced with him, made out with him, and went into a bedroom with him.”

“So?”

“It just seems odd if she hated him so much.”

Roche shrugged again.

Robin noticed that Roche was worrying the skin on one of her fingers. Robin was wondering what was bothering Roche when she remembered Blaine Hastings’s cryptic statement about the DNA evidence that had been crucial to his conviction.

Robin studied Roche. A reason for Roche’s nervousness occurred to Robin—a reason that made her feel a little sick.

“Let’s go over some basic stuff about testifying, Annie. Did Rex Kellerman, the DA who prosecuted Blaine Hastings, talk to you about perjury and the consequences of lying under oath?”

Roche’s cheeks reddened, and she squirmed in her seat. “He told me that it was important for me to back up Randi’s story about Blaine raping her.”

That would be typical of Kellerman, who was always more interested in a conviction than the truth, Robin thought. Out loud, she asked, “You know that the DNA evidence in Blaine’s case was crucial?”

“Yeah.” Roche looked uneasy, and that encouraged Robin to press her.

“Rex got in trouble because he bribed an expert to lie about the DNA evidence in another case. He was facing serious jail time before he was killed.”

“Why are you telling me about this?” Roche asked. “You’re Randi’s lawyer.”

“I am, but I’m also an officer of the Court, so I have a duty to keep from putting on testimony if I know it’s not the truth.” Robin paused and look Roche in the eye. “You’ve been very nervous since you entered my office. Is there a reason for that?”

“No,” Roche answered, but her answer didn’t sound convincing.

“Did you hear about Blaine’s scam, the way he got out of jail after he was convicted?”

“Yeah, Randi told me.”

“So, you know that Blaine’s father paid a woman to put Blaine’s ejaculate in her vagina and claim she was raped.”

Roche didn’t move.

“Did you know that Blaine attacked me in my parking garage?”

Roche nodded.

“Here’s the thing,” Robin said. “While we were in the garage, Blaine insisted that he never raped Randi. I said that DNA doesn’t lie. He said that the DNA evidence in his case had been rigged.”

Roche twisted in her seat.

“Did Blaine get the idea for his scam from Randi? Did Randi lure Blaine into a dark bedroom and jerk him off so she could get his sperm? Did Randi shout ‘Get off me’ as a signal for you to come into the bedroom so she could put his cum in her when you walked in and distracted him?”

“Why are you cross-examining me like I’m some kind of criminal?”

“I’m just asking you questions Blaine’s lawyer is going to ask when you testify for Randi in her civil case, and I wanted to see how you’d hold up. With millions at stake, Blaine’s family is going to hire the most vicious lawyer they can find. He’ll try to rip you apart. Doug Armstrong is a pussycat compared to the attorney who will be defending this case. He’s going to try to make the jury believe that you lied on the stand to convict Blaine so you could get revenge and a share of the money Randi gets.”

“Well, that’s… that’s not true.”

“Good, because witnesses who lie in court get in a lot of trouble.”

“Well, I’m not lying.”

“So, Blaine didn’t get the idea for his scam from Randi?”

“I have no idea how Blaine dreamed that up.”

“Well, that’s good to know. Now, let’s go over the questions I’m going to ask you.”

“Why did you lace into Roche like that?” Jeff asked as soon as they were alone.

“You weren’t in the garage when Blaine attacked me, so you didn’t hear the way he protested about being framed. He really sounded sincere.”

“Blaine Hastings is a sociopath. You can’t believe a thing he says. You sat through the trial. You heard the testimony. Hastings raped Randi Stark.”

“Yeah, but Hastings has insisted that Randi gave him a hand job and that he never penetrated her. If he ejaculated in her hand and she put Hastings’s cum in her vagina, the same way Braxton did, it would explain how his DNA got inside her and how he got the idea for his scam.”

“You think Randi’s smart enough to come up with a plan that complicated?”

“You told me that Portis kid said she’s bright, and she’s studying nursing. She told me that she has a 3.65 GPA. That’s up there. I’m pretty sure that Randi would have the medical know-how to pull off something like this.”

“You think she made up the rape?” Jeff asked.

“What do you think?”

“I think that Roche was nervous because you scared the hell out of her, and I think Blaine Hastings raped Randi Stark.”

Robin thought for a minute. Then she shook her head. “You’re right. I’m probably still concussed and not thinking straight.”

“I found something you need to know,” Peter Okonjo told Carrie Anders as soon as she answered her phone.

“Tell me.”

“We dug a bullet out of the wall in Rex’s place, and I ran it through the National Integrated Ballistic Information Network. NIBIN came up with a match to a bullet used to murder a lawyer in New York City named Tyler Harrison III.”

“Now that’s interesting. Can you match the bullet to a particular gun?”

“If we had the gun. Without it, all I can say is it’s the kind of bullet that could be fired from a certain type of gun. This one could have been fired from an automatic like a Smith and Wesson, a Beretta, or a Glock nine-millimeter. Why, do you have a specific gun in mind?”

Anders had a thought. “Let me get back to you.”

As soon as she disconnected, Anders phoned Roger Dillon and told him to meet her at the Nylanders’ house.

Frank Nylander’s widow lived a few blocks from the Armstrongs in a yellow and white Dutch Colonial. Janet Nylander had put on makeup, but it didn’t completely disguise the dark circles under her eyes, evidence of the many sleepless nights she had endured since her husband was murdered.

“We’re sorry to intrude, Mrs. Nylander, but we want to ask you about something that may help us figure out what happened to your husband,” Anders said.

“Go ahead.”

“Did Frank own a gun?”

“Yes, a handgun.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“No.”

“Where did he keep it?”

“I don’t know. He bought it when there were a rash of home burglaries in our neighborhood. But that was a while ago.”

“Could it have been in his office or his car?” Roger Dillon asked.

“I’m not sure where it is.”

“Can you look for it now?” Dillon asked.

“Yes. Of course. Why don’t you wait in the living room?”

Janet returned twenty minutes later. “I can’t find it,” she said. “I looked in our closets, the den. I’ll keep looking after you leave. I could have missed it.”