William Bernhardt - Murder One

“Of course, that was before you became a criminal defendant.”

Ben pursed his lips. The woman’s logic was relentless. “I only need it for an hour or so.” Long enough to get to Kinko’s and plug some quarters into the photocopier.

She pondered a few more moments. “I suppose there’s no harm in that. I’ll get the file. It’ll take a few minutes. Let me warn you in advance—it’s a thick one.”

“Thanks, Penelope. You’re an angel.”

“Yes, but my halo’s getting a bit tarnished. Too much contact with criminals. And their lawyers.”

Ouch! Ben thought, but he could live with it—as long as she produced the file.

And quickly. Christina and the others were certain to return to the office soon, and he wanted to be back before they did. It would spare him answering a lot of unpleasant questions, and no doubt elongating his Pinocchio’s nose. Christina had been firm about his staying out of the investigation, and she was probably right, but he couldn’t just sit on his hands and do nothing, not while Keri’s freedom was on the line—not to mention his own. Besides, Penelope would never give Christina or Loving the file; the only one who had a shot was him. Now if he could just get it and get outta here …

“I don’t believe it. You! ”

Ben felt his heart sinking and his blood pressure rising. He didn’t have to turn his head to identify the owner of that belligerent voice.

Matthews. “Son of a bitch. Right here in our own offices.” Matthews stomped directly in front of Ben. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

Ben took a deep breath, trying to remain cool. “This is a public building. I’m a taxpayer. I have as much right to be here as anyone.”

“Like hell. You’ve got your snoop harassing us when we’re off duty, and now you’re shoving your stinking face around our offices. This is too damn much.” Matthews glanced at the nameplate on the desk. “She’s Morelli’s secretary, isn’t she? Trying to worm some favors out of your old college buddy? Maybe hide some more evidence to keep your sorry butt out of prison? That’s what you do best, isn’t it? Weaseling criminals out of their punishments.”

“I’m not the one who botched his case with improperly obtained warrants. That was your stroke of genius.”

“Don’t give me any fancy lawyer talk. What are you doing here?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you. And I don’t intend to.”

His face contorted with anger, Matthews grabbed Ben by the collar and jerked him up to his feet. “Is that right? Let me tell you something. Joe McNaughton was my partner, and the best man I ever knew. The best. And his murder will not go unpunished. That little blond piece of ass you’re protecting is gonna swing. And maybe you with her!”

“If you don’t let go of me— now —I’ll bring charges for assault. And I’m not just threatening, either. An undeniable case of police brutality right now could do nothing but help me.”

Matthews shoved Ben back, his face twisted with disgust. “You revolting piece of—” He drew in his breath, fighting back the bile. “I’m not going to give you an excuse to pull more of your flashy lawyer tricks. Get the hell out.”

“I’ve got business here. And it isn’t over.”

“Your buddy ain’t here, Kincaid, got it? No one’s gonna help you. There’s no one here who wouldn’t like to take you apart and drown the pieces. So for your own safety, get the hell out.”

“I’m not fin—”

“ Do you hear what I’m saying? ” It would be impossible for Ben not to, as the man was barking directly in front of his face. “You just being here is an insult to Joe’s memory. And I’m not gonna let that happen. So don’t make me call security, chump. Get out!”

Ben carefully weighed his options, as much as was possible with the man literally breathing down his neck. He could stand fast, but the scene would only escalate, making it all the more impossible for Penelope to help him. Better to concede for now and hope to come back at a later date. When Matthews was somewhere else.

“I’ll go.” Ben turned and started toward the door, but apparently it offered Matthews a target he couldn’t refuse. Just before he left the cubicle, Ben felt the flat of the man’s shoe on his backside. The kick knocked him across the corridor.

Ben pulled himself together quickly and started toward the elevators. Unfortunately, Matthews’s shouts had attracted too much attention; there was no chance of his getting out as surreptitiously as he got in. Practically everyone working on the fourth floor had emerged from their cubicles and stood at the openings. All over the office, people were scurrying for a better look, jockeying for position. Everyone was staring at him, and the stares did not contain much warmth.

It was like walking the gauntlet. True, no one was beating him with clubs as he passed by, but they were beating him with their eyes, pouring out malice with every glance, and in some ways, that was worse.

Ben had never felt such relief in his life as when he made it to the lobby. He decided waiting for the elevator was too slow, plus he might meet someone inside and start yet another unfortunate scene.

He opted for the stairs. He pushed open the pneumatic door to the stairwell …

And found Penelope waiting for him.

“Decide to get a little exercise?” she asked.

“You could say that. How’d you know I’d take the stairs?”

“Intuition. Also, I could hear Matthews ranting halfway across the building. Did he try to rough you up?”

“More intuition?”

“That, plus the imprint of his shoe on your butt.” She held out a thick manila folder. “Here’s the file. Just mail it back to me. They won’t miss it for a day, and I don’t think you want to come back here.”

“You got that right.” Ben took the file and tucked it under his arm. “Thanks, Penelope. I really appreciate this.”

“Well, I know Mike thinks you’re worth messing with, so I suppose I should honor his wishes. Anything else I can do?”

Ben hesitated. “I … don’t suppose you’d like to tell me where Mike has gone?”

“Can’t. Don’t know.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ve heard any of the cops talking about visiting my office? Like maybe to plant a knife?”

Penelope shrugged. “I have no idea who might be behind that. But I do know this, Ben. These people are used to getting what they want. One way or another.”

“Even if it means breaking the law?”

“They are the law, Ben. And as long as they believe the end result is just, they don’t worry too much about the means.” She took a step closer, her expression solemn. “Please be careful, Ben. Very careful.”

17

KIRK STUMBLED DOWN THE Stroll, one foot after the other, no idea where he was going, or when, or for that matter, why. How many nights had he forced himself out like this? Prowling the worst parts of the city, late at night, looking for trouble, usually finding it. Brushing shoulders with hooligans and pushers and pimps and whores and—

He tried to erase the ugly word from his brain, without success. That was the word those bastards used to tarnish Keri, back in the courtroom. That was what they called her, just because she had to take her clothes off in that crummy club, just because she was dating that dirty cop. It wasn’t right. She never did anything wrong, not really. She was a good girl, clean and pure, deep down. She was his sister, for God’s sake. Those creeps didn’t know what was in her heart. But he did. He knew. They—

Standing before him, he saw a heavenly vision, a shapely female figure barely over five feet tall, with platinum blond hair.