"Trimble figured he was working way too hard when
he could get a lot more money out of Pettijohn by
threatening to reveal what was happening over on
Speckle."
"Do you believe Pettijohn ordered Bobby to hurt
those people? Beat them up? Set fires? Or was Bobby
elaborating?"
"I'm sure some of it was exaggerated," Smilow
said. "But if you're asking me if I think Lute was ca
pable of nefarious tactics like that, the answer is yes.
He would go to any lengths to get what he wanted."
"Whatever he was doing, it must have been bad,
because he agreed to pay Bobby one hundred thousand
dollars cash to keep quiet about it."
Smilow picked up the story again. "But in Bobby's
own words, he 'wasn't born yesterday.' Lute capitulated
almost too quickly to his demands. Bobby was
mistrustful of the haste with which Lute had agreed.
Collecting the cash was risky business. Even Bobby
is smart enough to figure out that he could have been
walking into a trap."
"Enter his sister."
"Half-sister," Hammond corrected. "And she
didn't 'enter.'"
"Okay, he looked her up and recruited her."
"He found her on a fluke. He spotted her picture in
the Post and Courier.'"
No doubt Alex rued the day she had signed on as
a volunteer to help organize Worldfest, a ten-day film
festival scheduled in Charleston each November. A
seemingly innocuous newspaper write-up and an accompanying
group photo had exposed her to her
nemesis.
On the recording Trimble had said, "I couldn't believe
my eyes when I saw Alex's picture in the newspaper.
I read the names twice before I realized she
must've changed hers. I looked up her address in the
phone book, staked out her place, and sure enough,
Dr. Ladd was my long-lost half-sister."
Hammond said, "Until he saw that write-up, he
didn't even know she lived in Charleston. After years
of hiding from him behind her new identity, she was
not pleased to see him."
"Or so she claims," Steffi said.
"If he were your brother, would you be happy to
have him reappear in your life?"
"Maybe. If we'd been successful partners before."
"Partners my ass. He used her sexuality in the
worst imaginable way, Steffi."
"You believe she was an innocent?"
"Yes, I do."
"Hammond, she was a whore."
"She was twelve"
"Okay, she was a young whore."
"She was not."
"She granted sexual favors for money. Isn't that
the definition of a whore?"
"Children." Smilow's quiet rebuke put an end to
their shouting match. He gathered a stack of written
materials into his case file and passed it to Hammond.
"That's everything you need to take to the
grand jury. They meet next Thursday."
"I know when they meet," Hammond snapped.
"I've got some other cases pending. Can't this wait a
month, until they meet again? What's the rush?"
"You have to ask?" Smilow said sardonically. "I
have to tell you the importance of this case?"
"All the more reason to make sure we've got it
sewed up before the grand jury hears it." He grappled
for another argument. "You made Trimble a sweet
deal. A measly purse snatching. One night in jail,
max. He's probably laughing his ass off."
"Your point being?"
"Trimble might have killed Pettijohn, and is using
his sister as a scapegoat."
Smilow thought about it for a second, then shook
his head. "There's no evidence placing him at the
crime scene, whereas physical evidence puts Alex
Ladd in the room with Pettijohn. Daniels's statement
puts her there at the estimated time of his death."
"Frank Perkins could easily fudge that time frame.
And you've got no weapon."
"If we had the weapon, I would charge her today,"
Smilow said. "As it is, remind the grand jury that
Charleston is surrounded by water. She could have
dumped the gun at any time Saturday evening."
"I agree," Steffi said. "We could search till doomsday
and not find that pistol. You really don't need it,
Hammond," she said confidently.
He dragged his hand down his face, realizing for
the first time that he hadn't taken time to shave that
morning. "I'll have a hard time selling them on her
motive."
"That'll be a breeze," Steffi argued. "You'll have
Trimble's testimony about her past."
"You're dreaming, Steffi," he said. "It happened
more than twenty years ago. But even if it had happened
yesterday, Frank will never permit it to come
out during trial. He'll argue her juvenile record's irrelevance,
and any fair judge will rule it inadmissible.
The jury will never hear that shit. If by some legal
maneuvering on my part it is ruled admissible, I'm
not sure I would use it. It could have the opposite effect
and work against us."
Smilow's eyes narrowed on Hammond. "Well, Mr.
Prosecutor, maybe you're representing the wrong
side. You're ready to throw up any and all obstacles
to this case, aren't you?"
"I know what can happen in court, Smilow. I'm
only being realistic."
"Or cowardly. Maybe Steffi should alert Mason
that you've developed cold feet."
Hammond withheld an obscene comeback.
Smilow was deliberately provoking him, and an
angry outburst would give him exactly what he was
hoping for. Instead he spoke very quietly. "I have an
idea. Why don't you dispense with all the legal ways
to win a conviction? Let's see, what underhanded
methods could you use? I know." He snapped his fingers.
"You could withhold exculpatory evidence.
Yeah, you could do that. It wouldn't be the first time,
either, would it?"
Smilow's very clean-shaven jaw knotted with
rage.
"What are you talking about?" Steffi asked.
"Ask him," he said, never taking his eyes off
Smilow. "Ask him about the Barlow case."
"If you weren't already banged up--"
"Don't let that stop you, Smilow."
"Guys, cut the crap," Steffi said impatiently.
"Don't we have enough to worry about without you
two slapping each other with gloves?" She turned to
Hammond. "What were you saying about Ladd's juvenile
record working against us?"
Several seconds passed before Hammond pulled
his eyes away from Smilow and focused on Steffi.
"As Dr. Ladd was listening to the Trimble recording,
you only had to watch her face to see how much she
detests him. The jury will be watching her, too."
"Though maybe not as closely as you."
If she had jabbed him with a hot poker, he couldn't
have reacted more fiercely. "What the fuck?"
"Nothing."
"Something," he insisted angrily.
"Just an observation, Hammond," she replied with
maddening calmness. "You couldn't take your eyes
off our suspect today."
"Jealous, Steffi?"
"Of her? Hardly."
"Then keep your snide remarks to yourself." He
cautioned himself not to go too far down that track or
he might not be able to get safely back. He picked up
the topic where they'd left off. "Trimble is slime. He
even offended you, and you're not easily offended.
His testimony will repulse women jurors."
"We'll coach him on what to say and how to say
it."
"Have you ever seen Frank Perkins on cross-examination?
He'll flatter Trimble into expounding
on some of his chauvinistic theories. Trimble will be
too vain to see the trap. He'll orate himself right into
it, and we'll be sunk. It would be tough for me to sell
a jury on the notion that Dr. Ladd--and you can bet
Frank will line up a legion of character witnesses-- was in cahoots with a guy like him."
Steffi thought on it for a moment. "Okay, for the
sake of argument, let's say she's as pure as the driven
snow. When her criminal half-brother showed up
with his blackmail scheme, why didn't she immediately
report him to the authorities?"
"Association," Hammond replied. "She wanted to
protect her practice and her reputation. She didn't
want all that garbage from the past dredged up."
"Maybe, but she could have called his bluff and
threatened to sic the cops on him. Or she could have
ignored him until he gave up and went away."
"Somehow I don't think he would be that easy to
ignore. He would have kept hacking away at her,
threatening to expose her to her patients, and friends,
and the community. They weren't empty threats. People
are always willing to believe the worst about
someone. Patients entrust her with their problems.
Would they continue that trust if they heard what
Bobby had to tell them? No, Steffi. He could have inflicted
some serious damage, and she knew it.
"She's made a name for herself professionally. Established
herself as an expert on acute anxiety disorder.
She's admired and respected. After the years it
took her to work through God knows how many
hang-ups from her childhood and construct her life,
she would do just about anything to protect it."
"That's our case!" Steffi cried excitedly. "You've
just nailed it, Hammond. Bobby threatened her with
exposure if she didn't go along with his scheme. In
order to get rid of him, she agreed to collect the
blackmail money. Something went awry inside that
hotel suite, and she had no choice but to kill Pettijohn."
Too late, Hammond realized how ill-chosen his
words had been. Steffi was right. He had just made
his case. "It might work," he mumbled.
"What other explanation is there for her being in
that hotel suite with Lute Pettijohn? She certainly
hasn't offered one."
That was the rub. Hammond could waltz around it
all he wanted, but his fancy footwork always brought
him back to that. If Alex was totally and completely
innocent of any wrongdoing, why had she gone to see
Pettijohn that afternoon?
Smilow headed for the door. "I'll tell Perkins that
the grand jury is hearing our case next Thursday."
"Why don't you just arrest her?" Steffi asked.
The thought of Alex spending any time in jail sickened
Hammond, but he thought it wise not to voice
any more protests.
Thank God Smilow did it for him. "Because
Perkins would cry foul and force us to charge her before
incarcerating her. He'd have her out on bail
within hours anyway."
"He's right, Steffi," Hammond said, feeling as
though he had been granted a reprieve. "When she's
charged, I'd rather have a grand jury indictment behind
it."
Smilow left, giving his office over to them.
Steffi looked at Hammond sympathetically. "Are you sure you're up to preparing the case? Whether
you admit it or not, this mugging took a toll. You'll
probably feel even worse over the next several days
when the real soreness sets in. I'll be glad to take over
this responsibility for you."
On the surface it sounded as though a concerned
colleague was offering to do another a favor, but
Hammond wondered if the gesture was entirely unselfish.
She had wanted the case and probably resented
his getting it.
Beyond that, her offer could also be a carefully
laid trap. After her innuendo about his being unable
to take his eyes off Alex, he was wary. If Steffi was
entertaining even the hint of a notion that he was attracted
to Alex, she would be watching him like a
hawk. Everything he said and did would be filtered
through her suspicion. If she discovered that his attraction
went much further than even she suspected,
it would be disastrous for both him and Alex. He
couldn't be obvious about favoring their suspect.
On the other hand, Steffi's offer could be wholly
unselfish, her concern genuine. She had every right to
be angry and upset with him because of the breakup,
but she hadn't let that compromise their professional
interaction. He was the one with the hidden motives.
Chagrined, he thanked her for the courteous offer.
"I appreciate it, but I've got a week to recuperate. I'm
sure by next Thursday, I'll be back to normal and raring
to go."
"If you change your mind ..."
CHAPTER
30
There's press outside?" Frank Perkins asked with
angry incredulity.
"That's what I was told," Smilow replied blandly.
"I thought you ought to be warned."
"Who leaked it?"
"I don't know."
The solicitor snorted. "Sure you don't." He turned
away and, taking Alex Ladd's arm, escorted her toward
the elevator.
Steffi sidled up to Smilow, remarking, "I can't
wait for Thursday."
"It won't be easy."
She looked at the detective, surprised by his discouraged
tone. "Don't tell me Hammond's pessimism