The Baxter Trust

18

Sheila Benton came down the stairs and checked her mailbox. As expected, the mail had not come yet. Damn, she thought. She really could have used a hit of coke, what with how things were, what with how much sleep she'd gotten.

At least Johnny would be back. God, she needed him. He'd been so strong and understanding on the phone last night, when he'd called her. And so sorry about the mix-up about the hotel. Though that wasn't really like him, to make a mistake like that. He was usually so precise about everything, which was surprising, considering how much he liked to kid around. Well, it just showed he was human. Told the wrong hotel to her and to his secretary. Because he'd stayed there before, and he'd confused the names. Could have happened to anyone. And he was a real brick on the phone. Not to worry about anything. He'd be there and he'd take care of it.

Sheila couldn't wait to see him.

She came out the front door, started for the car and stopped.

Steve Winslow was coming up the street. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day before. He'd shaved, but his hair was poorly combed, his eyes were bloodshot and his jacket looked as if he'd slept in it.

He raised a hand in greeting. “Good morning, Miss Benton.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood, I just thought I’d drop by.”

“You look like hell.”

“I don’t feel so hot either. It happens that I’ve been working while you’ve been getting your beauty sleep.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. This guy Greely. The guy you don’t know. The dead guy. Well, it happens the police don’t know him either. He has no criminal record. His prints are not on file. That’s the good news.”

“Why is that good news?”

“Wake up. The theory is the guy was blackmailing you so you killed him. If the guy had a police record as a blackmailer that would just about sew it up.”

“Oh. But he doesn’t?”

“No. And that’s gotta be worrying the police some. And at this point, keeping the police worried is about the best we can hope for.”

Sheila looked at him. “Why do you say that?”

Steve shrugged. “Well, that’s the bad news. The cops have located Greely’s address. It’s a dive in the Park Slope section of Brooklyn. But here’s the thing. The cops have sewed it up tight. There’s no information coming out whatsoever. I’ve got detectives crawling all over the place and they can’t find out a thing. And that’s strange, ’cause we got a pipeline into police headquarters- that’s how we know the cops I.D.’d Greely and found his address-and we still can’t get anything. Once the cops got the lead to Greely’s apartment, they clamped the lid on tight. And that can mean only one thing. They found something.”

“What?”

“Best guess is something that proves Greely wrote the blackmail letter.”

“Like what?”

“Newspapers with words cut out would do it. I don’t know. That’s just the best guess, but it’s not really a good one.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you’re here. The cops haven’t picked you up yet. And if they had solid evidence that Greely wrote that letter, you would think that they would.”

Sheila frowned. “So you don’t think that’s it?”

He shrugged again. “Maybe, maybe not. There’s another factor to consider. The D.A. had a visit from Mr. Marston, of Marston, Marston, and Cramden yesterday.”

“Who?”

“The attorneys for your Uncle Max.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Luckily I got that bit of information before the pipeline shut down. Anyway, that’s the other explanation. If Uncle Max is throwing his weight around and leaning on the D.A. to keep you out of this, well, then it’s possible the cops have linked the letter to Greely, but they’re not going to make a move on you till they have an airtight case.”

Sheila bit her lip. “I see. But if Uncle Max has hired attorneys-”

“Don’t worry about it. Uncle Max can hire anybody he wants. As far as I’m concerned, I’m working for you.”

She looked at him. “Wait a minute. Uncle Max didn’t give you a retainer?”

“That’s neither here nor there.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No.”

“But I can’t pay you. I have no money.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you want me, I’m your lawyer. That’s all you have to consider. Uncle Max is going to pay me. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

She frowned.

“Unless you’d like me to bow out of the case. Which you have a perfect right to do. In which case, Uncle Max would be delighted to retain Marston, Marston, and Cramden to represent you.”

“No.”

“Okay. I’m your lawyer till you fire me. So, as they say in the singles bar, let’s talk about you.”

“What?”

“Let’s assume the cops linked the letter to Greely. That makes him a blackmailer. You have a trust fund that you lose if your name is connected with any scandal. So all the cops would need to give them an airtight case would be to find out what he could have been blackmailing you about.”

Her eyes faltered. “I see.”

“Well? What could it be?”

She looked at him defiantly. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Steve sighed. “You sure know how to boost a guy’s confidence. All right. So tell me. Where are you going?”

“To the airport.”

He smiled. “Flight is an indication of guilt,” he said lightly.

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Oh? Who?”

“John Dutton.”

“Who’s John Dutton?”

“A friend.”

“That narrows the field. Now I know you’re not going to meet an enemy. Is this John Dutton anyone special?”

“He’s my boyfriend, if you must know.”

“That’s nice. Does he live with you?”

“He has his own apartment.”

“He ever sleep over?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“As a matter of fact, it is my business. Any hint of scandal, remember?”

Sheila pouted, said nothing.

“Where’s he coming from?”

“Reno.”

“When’d he go there?”

“Two days ago.”

“The same day you got the letter?”

Sheila bristled. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just trying to get the time straight.”

“Yeah, it was the same day. I dropped him at the airport. When I got home the letter was in my mailbox.”

“And then you got the phone call?”

“Yes.”

“Was his plane in the air at the time?”

Sheila glared at him. “Are you trying to imply-”

“Yes, I am. Did you think it was him?”

“Now look here-”

Steve cut her off sharply. “No. You look here. I’m going to give you a little bit of advice, first of all because you need it, and second of all because that’s what a lawyer’s supposed to do. And it’s this-stop being so outraged all over the place. This is just a sample of the type of questions the DA.’s going to be throwing at you, and let me tell you, if you’re going to react like this you’re a dead duck. And this is nothing. These are pretty innocuous questions. Wait’ll you get cross-examined by someone who isn’t on your side.

“Now, stop being so hotheaded and emotional, and think rationally for a minute. You’re just a normal, ordinary person going about your business, living your life. One day, as a bolt out of the blue, you get that letter. If, as you say, there is no reason for anyone to blackmail you, then your first reaction would be what any normal person’s reaction would be under those circumstances-you would think it was a joke.”

Steve paused and let that sink in. “Now, wasn’t that your first reaction? Didn’t you think it was a joke?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“Of course you did. And your next reaction would be to think who could have played this joke. Right?”

“I guess so.”

“Well, it’s only logical, isn’t it? Wouldn’t that be your next reaction?”

“Yes. I guess it was.”

“This what’s-his-name, this John Dutton-is he a funny guy? He like to kid around?”

“Yes. He’s very funny.”

“So you immediately thought it might be him.”

“Well-”

“Of course you did. It’s a completely natural reaction. You don’t think it was him any more, not now, not after everything that’s happened, not now that you know it’s not a joke.

“But you did at the time. You thought it might be him. And that’s why when I suggest it might have been him, you’re outraged, you get angry, you fly off the handle. If you’d really never thought it might be him, when I asked you that you’d laugh and say, ‘John Dutton? Don’t be silly.’

“Instead you get angry. Which happens to be a guilty reaction. I know it, and the district attorney knows it. It’s what we look for on cross-examination. Any time we can get the witness angry, we know we’ve got something, we know we’ve hit a nerve. And then we bear down.”

Steve stopped and looked at Sheila. Her eyes blinked. She looked slightly pale.

“Hey, nothing to worry about,” Steve said. “Don’t let it bother you. You’ll get better.”

“Better?”

“Yeah. At lying.”

Sheila’s head snapped up. She opened her mouth for a terrible rejoinder.

“Ah,” said Steve. “An outraged reaction.”

Sheila wilted.

“Well,” he said casually. “How you getting to the airport?”

She pointed to the MG.

Steve looked at her in surprise. “You own an MG?”

“Of course not. It’s Johnny’s.”

He looked at the car and nodded thoughtfully. “All right. You wait here. I’ll go pick up Johnny at the airport.”

“Why?”

“Frankly, I’d like to talk to him before you do.”

She frowned.

He looked at her and grinned. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to drive an MG.”