The Naked Typist

44

Fitzpatrick couldn’t stop laughing. Whether it was genuine amusement, relief of nervous tension or perhaps embarrassment over the harsh things he’d said to Steve Winslow-most likely a combination of all three-the man had a pretty good case of the giggles.

“It’s too much,” Fitzpatrick said. “It’s too much. I mean, I’m not sure this has a legal precedent. I mean, is throwing up on the witness stand considered an admission of guilt?”

Steve Winslow was leaning back in his desk chair, utterly drained. Too tired to answer, he merely smiled.

Fitzpatrick didn’t mind. He was hyped with nervous energy and on a roll. “And what does the court reporter write, that’s what I want to know? I’d like to get a look at the transcript. I mean, you get, ‘Question:’ ‘Answer:’ ‘Question:’ ‘Answer:’ Then you get, ‘Question: (from spectator): “You son of a bitch.” ‘ ‘Witness barfs.’ Is that what they write? ‘Witness barfs?’ Or do they write it phonetically? ‘Blaaaaah!’”

Steve exhaled noisily, shook his head. “What a stroke of luck.”

“Luck, hell,” Fitzpatrick said. “You knew it. You had him. You were right up and down the line.”

“No, I didn’t,” Steve said. “I never could have touched him in a million years. All I had going for me was his fear of that old man.”

Fitzpatrick’s grin faded. His eyes narrowed. “You played for that to happen?”

“Yeah, I did. I knew I couldn’t break Danby myself. So I played to Castleton. Because I believed Kelly’s story, particularly what David told her. That Milton Castleton is fair, Milton Castleton is just, Milton Castleton wouldn’t let that happen.

“And Milton Castleton loved his grandson. I knew if I could sell him, he’d do the rest.”

Fitzpatrick shook his head. “Jesus Christ. A man like Danby, so afraid of a sick old man.”

The door opened and Mark Taylor and Tracy Garvin came in. “News from the front,” Taylor said. “Danby caved in. He’s making a full written confession.”

“You’re kidding,” Steve said.

Taylor shook his head. “Not at all. He’s comin’ clean. When his boss turned against him it broke him. The way I get it, he’d rather go to jail than have to face him.”

“Son of a bitch,” Fitzpatrick said.

“What about Kelly?” Steve said.

“They released her. She’s probably on her way over now.”

Steve sighed. “What a fucking relief.”

“Tell me about it,” Taylor said.

“They release Marcie too?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said. “She just called. You’re not going to believe this.”

“What? She wants her job back?”

“Not at all. She called her answering service. With her performance on the stand and her picture in the morning papers, she’s had calls from talent agents from William Morris and ICM.”

Steve grinned. “You’re kidding.”

“No. A literal Hollywood ending. Looks like you cost me an operative.”

“Or two. Any word from Dan Fuller?”

“No. But from what Marcie says, after she read him the riot act he took off on a camping trip. I expect he’ll resurface after Danby’s confession hits the press.”

“That’s good,” Steve said. “He was the joker in the piece, you know.”

Taylor frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What I said to Danby on the witness stand, about tipping Marcie Keller to the cops, about how that’s how I knew it was him. Well, it turned out I was right. But there was one other possibility. That was Dan Fuller got cold feet and phoned in the tip.”

“Holy shit,” Taylor said.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Hadn’t happened, but that’s what I was gambling on.”

“You were gambling on a lot,” Taylor said.

“I know. I don’t feel good about it at all.”

“So what’s the situation?” Taylor said. “With Marcie and me and you guys? What difference will Danby’s confession make?”

“We’re off the hook,” Steve said.

Taylor nodded. “You’ll pardon a second opinion, but, Fitzpatrick, is that right?”

“Basically, yes,” Fitzpatrick said. “Aiding and abetting, accessory after that fact.” He shrugged. “You can’t aid and abet an innocent person. And Kelly Clay Wilder had nothing to do with the crime. You and your detectives didn’t have any knowledge about Phil Danby’s involvement in this affair, did you?”

“No.”

“There you are. Technically you still withheld evidence, but in the vernacular, who gives a shit?”

“Dirkson won’t go after my license?”

Fitzpatrick shook his head. “Dirkson wouldn’t dream of it. Dirkson wants to get this whole thing out of the press just as fast as he can.”

Fitzpatrick stood up. “Well, I’d like to stick around until Kelly gets here, but I’m two weeks behind on my work. Make my apologies for me.”

“Sure,” Steve said.

Fitzpatrick took a breath, looked at Steve. “I said some rough things yesterday.”

“They were deserved.”

“Anyway, I apologize.”

“I’m the one who should apologize.”

Fitzpatrick waved his hand. “Whatever. I’m not good at this, but what I said about never working with you again. Well, I don’t know how to say this. I’m not saying I ever would work with you again. I guess what I’m saying is, don’t feel you have no right to ask.”

Fitzpatrick smiled, nodded and went out the door.

“Hell of a guy,” Steve said. He sighed.

Tracy took off her glasses, pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Hey, snap out of it,” she said. “You’re the gloomiest winner I ever saw.”

“I don’t feel much like a winner,” Steve said.

There came the sound of voices from the outer office. Tracy pushed open the door and looked. “Kelly’s here. She snagged Fitzpatrick.”

Steve frowned. “Do me a favor, will you Tracy?”

“What’s that?”

“Go out there and stall her off a few minutes. I want to talk to Mark.”

Tracy frowned and nodded. “Sure.”

She went out, closing the door behind her.

“Look, Mark-” Steve said.

Mark Taylor held up his hand. “You don’t have to say it.”

“Yeah, I do. I let you down. I let Fitzpatrick down. I took chances I had no right to take. We won, but that doesn’t excuse it.”

“So?”

“So, I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t thought I had to.”

“I know that too.”

Steve sighed. “This isn’t just an apology.”

“What is it?”

“I guess it’s a warning.”

Taylor grinned, shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me. I already know.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re not about to say, ‘Sorry, Mark, I won’t do it again.’ Because you can’t promise that. You get a client, you lose all sense of proportion. You lose all sense of-Hell, you lose all sense. You’ll do anything at all to protect that client, and nothing and no one’s gonna stand in your way.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know any other way to play it.”

“So you’re telling me you’re real sorry this happened, but the next case that comes along you’ll probably go out on a limb again.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“Okay. I stand warned.”

“And?”

Taylor looked at him. He smiled. “Shit, Steve, we’re friends. You take your business elsewhere, I will be really pissed off.”

Steve exhaled, rubbed his head. He smiled. “Thanks, Mark. That means a lot.”

The intercom buzzed. Steve picked up the phone. “Yeah, Tracy?”

“Fitzpatrick left, and Kelly’s bouncing off the walls. With Danby’s confession, they’re reopening her brother’s case, and the word is the conviction will be overturned and he could be out as soon as tomorrow. Kelly’s absolutely ecstatic, and she can’t wait to thank you. What shall I tell her?”

Steve chuckled. He grinned at Mark Taylor.

“Tell her to keep her shirt on.”