William Bernhardt - Murder One

“So I say that’s what we do.”

“But, Arlen, the case is over. Double jeopardy has—”

“There are ways around that.”

Dodds stared at Matthews, stunned. “Arlen, stop right there. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but whatever it is—”

“What’s the matter? Haven’t got the guts for it, college boy?”

Dodds fell silent, biting back his own anger.

“I want that cheap piece of ass that killed our friend. And I want that cheap lying whore of a lawyer who got her off and made us look like fools.”

“We all do,” Callery replied. “But how are you gonna do it? There’s no way.”

“There is a way.” Calmly, almost in control of himself now, Matthews fell back into his chair. “I’ve got three words for you, boys: The Blue Squeeze.”

2

BEN STOOD BESIDE THE reception table sampling Dean Belsky’s canapés. There were a wide variety of them, but they all seemed to involve cucumbers. Ben hated cucumbers. Actually, it wasn’t so much that he hated them as it was that he didn’t understand their purpose. After all, they didn’t taste like anything. They weren’t especially good for you. They didn’t quell your appetite. What was the point? And yet, there they were, as far as the eye could see, rows and rows of sliced, diced, warm and wilty cucumbers. All in all, it was about the most unappetizing display of appetizers he’d seen in his life.

“Paula, look! Cucumbers! ” Jones, Ben’s office manager, surged past him and bellied up to the table; his girlfriend, Paula, trailed in his wake. He slid his plate under half a dozen of the nearest selections. “I was starving.” He glanced at Ben. “Aren’t you having any?”

“I’d rather eat air. Actually, it’s about the same.”

“Nonsense. Cucumbers are great. So cool, so refreshing.” He took a bite into one of them. The expression on his face rapidly changed. “Unless, of course, they’ve been out on the table a wee bit too long. When did this reception start?”

“Beats me. Seems like forever.”

“Ah, don’t be such a party pooper. This is a big day.” Jones turned his attention to Paula. “Want some, sugar pie?”

“No thanks. I’ll just savor the inside lining of my mouth.”

Ben smiled. “A woman after my own heart.” Paula was the head research librarian for the Tulsa City-County system. She and Jones had met on the Internet more than a year ago and been inseparable ever since. “Better watch out, Jones. I may steal her away from you.”

“As if you stood a chance.” He sniffed. “We’re soul mates.” He clasped her hand. “And hopefully we always will be.”

“And I hope we always will be,” she corrected. “ ‘Hopefully’ is an adverb meaning full of hope.”

“That’s my cute little librarian gal. You’ll always be my sweet thing, won’t you, punkin?”

“You know it, huggy bear.”

They rubbed noses.

Ben didn’t know whether to be enchanted or repulsed. “All right, you two, calm down. We’re in a public place, remember?”

Jones pulled away from Paula’s face. “I remember, Boss. But it’s easy to forget when you’re around my hot little love bug.”

“Uh-huh. So when are you going to make an honest woman of her?”

A touch of frost settled amongst their little group.

Paula laughed, a bit too heartily, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “Bad question, Ben. Jones is still in his twenty-first century sensitive male mode.”

“And that means?”

She winked and mouthed the words: “Can’t commit.”

“Anybody seen Christina?” Jones asked. “We’re here for her, after all.”

“Haven’t seen her,” Ben answered. “Probably searching for a robe short enough to fit. Haven’t seen Loving, either.”

“That’s odd. He said he would be—” Jones stopped. “Wait—oh, my God! There he is.”

“What’s the big—” Ben swiveled around.

“Hey ya, Skipper,” Loving said, with typical exuberance. “Am I late?”

“No, no,” Ben said, trying not to laugh. “You’re fine. A good fifteen minutes till the ceremony starts.” He turned away, unable to suppress his mirth.

“What?” Loving said. “What is it? Did I do somethin’?”

“No. N-not at all,” Jones stammered out. He was doing a considerably less capable job of containing himself. “You certainly look … dapper this morning.”

“What is it? My clothes?” Loving, Ben’s investigator, was about the size of a bear and built like a brick wall. But this morning, that admirable girth was encased in an ill-fitting tuxedo. With morning coat. “You told me this was a dress-up thing.”

“Yes,” Jones said. He was full-out laughing now. “Yes, I did …”

“And I wanted Christina to know how important I think this is. Wanted to treat her special day with respect.” He hooked a thumb under his lapel. “When she sees this, she’ll know how much I care about her.”

“That,” Ben said, “or she’ll think you just came from a royal wedding.”

“What a bunch of boobs,” Paula said. She took Loving’s arm and sidled up next to him. “I think you look dashing.”

“Really?” Loving beamed. “I wasn’t sure, you know?” He lowered his voice a notch. “I haven’t actually worn this thing since high school.”

“Ah. That would explain the fit.”

“ Ben! ”

He twisted his neck in the direction of the voice and saw a familiar red-haired figure blazing a trail through the reception crowd. She was wearing a black gown and had a mortarboard tucked under her arm.

“Ben!” she said, bubbling. “You came! I’m so happy!”

“Well, of course I came,” he said, standing there awkwardly. “I couldn’t miss seeing my, um, you know, one’s legal assistant graduating from law school.”

Paula patted his arm. “Nice job, Ben. Very clinical.” She gave Christina a hug. “We’re so proud of you, Christina. All of us.”

“Are you staying for the ceremony? “

Ben opened his mouth, but whatever he was planning to say, he never got the chance. “Of course we are,” Paula said quickly. “All of us.”

“That’s wonderful!” Christina had always been on the exuberant side, but this morning, she was positively effervescent. “Can you believe I’m finally graduating?” She spun around, and the brick wall wearing a tuxedo caught her eye. “Loving, look at you! You look extraordinaire! ”

Loving tugged on his bow tie. “Me? Nah …”

“You do! Very scrummy! If you wear that thing much longer, you’re going to have to beat the girls off with a stick.”

“Shucks. I wasn’t tryin’ to look good. I just wanted you to know what a big deal we think today is. And how proud we are of you.”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re very sweet.” She turned back toward Ben. “Don’t you think my gown has a certain je ne sais quoi? Don’t you like it?”

“Better than most of your wardrobe.”

“Wanna see what I have on under it?”

“No.” Ben gave her a long look. “You do have something on under it, don’t you?”

“Of course.” She lifted the hem of the gown and gave him a fast flash of a pink poodle skirt lined with black fake fur, white socks, and saddle oxfords.

“You know,” Ben said, “once you’re a lawyer, you won’t be able to dress so … eccentrically.”

“Which is why I dressed up today. I have the whole rest of my life to be boring.” She saw that the other graduates were beginning to file out the rear. “I have to go get in line now.” She paused, this time looking at Ben. “See you after the ceremony?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

And then she was gone, like a strawberry-blond poltergeist, three shakes and a cloud of dust.