Final judgment

FORTY-THREE

Mason left the suite accompanied by Bongiovanni. The elevator was empty as they rode down to the lobby. The hotel piped in Tom Jones singing “It’s Not Unusual.” It was too early in the day for lounge singers, but the lyric was on the money. Nothing in this case was usual.

“Do you really think Mark Hill flipped out and became a jealous psycho killer?” Bongiovanni asked.

“Most murders are committed close to home-not physically but psychologically. Spouses, lovers, friends, coworkers. Somebody or something gets off the tracks. That makes Hill the popular choice.”

“But this isn’t a popularity contest, is it?”

The elevator reached the lobby and they stepped into a throng of retired veterans checking in for their chance at something for nothing, many of them wearing caps with their service insignias on the bill. Mason led Bongiovanni away from the crowd.

“No,” he said. “It’s Sherlock Holmes and The Hound of the Baskervilles. It’s about finding the dog that didn’t bark. What time was it when Mark Hill came home Friday night and started smacking Carol around?”

“Carol said it was a few minutes after nine. She was watching some reality show that had just started.”

“Keegan got off work at eight. The cops showed me a picture of his body they took at ten. That’s not much time, but it’s enough for Mark to have popped Keegan before he went home to work on Carol. He’ll need an alibi once the cops connect him to Rockley and Keegan. That should take until about lunchtime today.”

“But you don’t buy it, do you?”

“I don’t have a better idea, but there are a couple of things that don’t add up. First, Rockley’s killer cut off his head and hands and dumped the body in the trunk of my client’s car. I haven’t found anything to connect Rockley to my client and I don’t believe in bad luck. Second, Keegan’s body was left in a parking lot a mile from the casino still wearing his head and holding on to a piece of paper with my name and phone number on it. There’s no pattern to the murders and I don’t know any reason Keegan would have my name. It would help if I could find out more about those two guys.”

“I’ve got Rockley’s employment records from the arbitration. You’re welcome to them.”

“Thanks. Lari Prillman let me look at hers Saturday night. There’s nothing in either one of them. I even called Rockley’s previous employers. All five of them gave him great references-said he was a great guy, great employee, sorry to lose him.”

Bongiovanni studied Mason, his mouth curling at the corners again. It was a look that said gotcha.

“Mason. I’ve been handling personal injury and employment cases for fifteen years. I talk to employers all the time. They’re scared to death of lawyers and lawsuits. I’m lucky if they’ll confirm someone actually worked for them. No employer says a word about what kind of employee the person was. You got five employers to give you a goddamn reference over the phone. That sounds like a barking dog to me.”

“Yeah, but the dog is barking up the wrong tree. Each company was in a different city and there’s no connection between them. How do you make that work? Besides, I have very good telephone manners.”

“You ought to get a nine hundred number and start charging people. And another thing, you saw Prillman’s files Saturday night and you called me bright and early this morning to see Carol. What did you do, call Rockley’s former employers at home on Sunday?”

Mason realized his mistake. He didn’t answer, waiting to see how far Bongiovanni would push with his next question

“Okay. You don’t want to tell me. Fine. Here’s the way it looks to me. I got a phone call about Rockley around seven o’clock Friday night. First anonymous tip in my career. Very exciting. You called me after midnight, told me about Keegan, and warned me that Mark may go after Carol. This morning, you told Carol that you talked to Mark Friday evening and he told you that she and Keegan were having an affair. Am I right so far?”

“Right enough.”

“You couldn’t have called Rockley’s former employers between Saturday night and this morning. You had to have done that last week. Which means that you knew about Rockley long before I did. The article in Saturday’s newspaper made it look like the cops didn’t even know Rockley was the corpse in your client’s car until that reporter told them. Sounds like you have better sources than my anonymous tipster. Maybe your client told you. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. I just want to know one thing. How did you make the connection to Mark Hill?”

Mason didn’t answer because he didn’t want to tell Bongiovanni the truth and he didn’t have a lie that was good enough to fly under Bongiovanni’s bullshit radar.

“Better not to tell me than lie to me, huh, Mason? I can respect that. Let me answer for you. You had no reason to connect your client to my client until you knew that Rockley was the corpse in your client’s car. But that wasn’t enough to get you to Mark Hill. To make that jump, you had to know about Carol’s lawsuit against Galaxy. You didn’t get that from me, so you had to get it from Galaxy. Now that’s one big goddamn barking dog. So what the fuck is going on?”

Mason always reminded his clients that it wasn’t their job to straighten out the opposing lawyer if he got the facts wrong or jumped to the wrong conclusion. Let him wander around in the wilderness until he figures things out or gives up, Mason told them.

“Woof, woof.”

Bongiovanni stepped close to Mason, clipping his words. “Listen to me, Mason. Carol isn’t just my client; she’s family, which counts for a lot where I come from. I appreciate that you warned me about Mark, but don’t hold out on me if there’s something else I should know.”

“You said that you found a lot of interesting things when you searched Ed Fiori’s office after he was killed. Did you keep any souvenirs?”

Bongiovanni threw his hands into the air. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“The gate swings both ways. We may be able to help each other. You let me have a look at everything you took from your uncle’s office, and I’ll tell you what I know about Rockley.”

Bongiovanni chewed his lip. “That’s a pretty broad request. If you were asking me to produce documents for a lawsuit, I’d say you were on a fishing expedition.”

“Maybe I am. What do you care so long as I’ve got Rockley and Keegan for bait?”

“That stuff is more than just interesting reading. You have any idea what you’re looking for?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.”

“All right. Just remember this. Some of that stuff, if I let you see it, I’ll have to kill you. You don’t mind, do you?” Bongiovanni asked with a wry grin.

“I’ve got the same problem. I guess we’ll have to trust each other.”

“How’s that going to work? We’re both lawyers.”

“What’s the matter? Did you already forget about the Jew and the Italian?”

Bongiovanni laughed. “You are bent, Mason. I’ll give you that. Look. I’ve got a deposition this afternoon. You come by my office tomorrow morning. We’ll play another hand of liar’s poker.”