The Alibi (51 page)

"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