The Innocent Woman

24

“Still mad at me?” Tracy said, as they came out the front door.

Steve Winslow glanced over his shoulder, spotted cops hanging out by the entrance. “Let’s get away from here before we talk.”

They found an all night diner on Chambers Street, ordered coffee and took a booth in the back.

“So,” Steve said, “you went back there to leave your fingerprints?”

“Why not?” Tracy said. “You sent Amy back. I figured if it could work for her, it could work for me.”

“It may not work for her,” Steve said. “Dirkson’s already sold on the idea that was her second visit.”

“How come?”

“A small petty cash drawer problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was shut.”

“What?”

“Amy goes up there, calls the cops. They come, she tells Stams she went up there and found the office robbed and Fletcher dead. One small problem-she never looks at the desk, and somewhere between the time we were there and she came back, someone got into the office and shut the fucking drawer.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. Which brands her whole story false. In the worst possible way. There’s no chance that she is mistaken. She’s lying. Plain and simple.

“And it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. The only reason she would tell such a stupid, obvious lie is because she thinks it’s the truth. Which means when she saw the drawer it was open. Which means she was there at another time.”

“Good lord,” Tracy said. “When did you find this out?”

“When I talked to her in jail.”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I was pissed at you. About Branstein.”

“Even so.”

“It never entered my mind,” Steve said. “When it occurred to me just now, I was surprised to realize you didn’t know.”

“Uh huh,” Tracy said. “So what’s the verdict? Did I make up some for the Branstein mess?”

Steve exhaled. “Look. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be hard on you. Yeah, this was a good move. Under the circumstances, probably the best you could do. The Branstein mess is a mess, and don’t think it’s over. It’s just beginning. Why do you think Dirkson wanted us out of there? So he could go to work on Branstein. The guy may not be much of a witness now, but what do you want to bet by the time he gets on the stand it turns out he can positively identify Amy Dearborn as the woman and me as the guy?”

“Which was the whole point of my calling on him,” Tracy said. “The guy saw a woman go in. He didn’t see her very well, and from his description it could have been Amy or it could have been me. He sat there looking me right in the face and didn’t bat an eye. We’re not sure if it was me, but still. But we know it was you. He didn’t recognize you either.”

“Yeah, because of the way I was dressed. Of course, he remembers the way I was dressed, and he just described it to Dirkson. Because it’s different from the way I’m usually dressed, it makes an impression. Dirkson’s got it already, and you can bet he’s working that angle now. He knows it was me. He knows it was you. He knows what we’ve done. The only real concern, is whether he can prove it. Right now, the chance of that is relatively slim.” Steve frowned. “Which is what bothers me.”

“Why does that bother you?”

“Because Dirkson’s smug. He’s the cat that ate the canary. He can’t prove I was the guy, but he acts like he could. So either he can and I just don’t know it yet, or it’s something else entirely. Is there a pay phone here?”

Tracy looked around. “Yeah. There’s one by the door.”

“Do me a favor. Call Mark, see what’s up.”

Tracy went and made the call. Steve sat, sipped his coffee, tried to think.

She was back in a minute.

“Nothing doing?” Steve said.

“Machine’s on. Mark went home. Message says if it’s an emergency call him at home, otherwise leave a message after the beep.”

“Shit. Any way to pick up his messages?”

“Not from here. I mean, there would be if I knew it-I know how to pick up mine-but it’s different for each machine. With Mark’s, it’s never come up before, so I don’t know it. I could find out, but I’d have to call him and ask him.”

Steve waved it away. “Let’s not go nuts over this. It will be morning soon enough. What time is it now? Jesus Christ, three o’clock.” Steve stretched. “Okay, let’s try this again. Tracy, I’m putting you in a cab. This time, I strongly advise you go home and get some sleep.”