Puzzled Indemnity Page 13
“The detective?” Cora said.
“Bite your tongue.”
Chapter
42
Judge Hobbs surveyed the crowded courtroom with displeasure. Cora suppressed a smile. She knew how he felt. This was a simple arraignment, and it was threatening to become a media circus. Rick Reed and his camera crew were set up in the back of the courtroom to film the event, and that was only because they had been denied permission to set up closer.
Brittany Wells was escorted into the courtroom by Dan Finley, the least threatening police presence imaginable. Dan was doing everything in his power to reassure her. She was not in handcuffs, and he was treating her as solicitously as if she were his date for the policeman’s ball. He led her to the defense table, installed her next to Becky Baldwin, and withdrew to a discreet distance.
Judge Hobbs called court to order and addressed the prosecutor. “Mr. Firth, with what is the defendant charged?”
“Murder, Your Honor, in the death of her husband, Hank Wells.”
“Miss Baldwin, how does your client plead?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“Very well. A plea of not guilty is entered and the defendant is bound over for trial.”
“Your Honor, I would request reasonable bail,” Becky said.
Henry Firth nearly gagged. “Bail? How can she request bail? The defendant profited from her crime to the tune of two million dollars. If ever there was a reason to jump bail, I would think that’s it.”
Becky smiled. “She doesn’t have it, Your Honor. And from the noises coming from the insurance company, I doubt if she’ll have it anytime soon.”
Henry Firth’s nose twitched. “That’s silly.”
“I quite agree. And I’ll be sure to quote you to the insurance company. You want to testify if they start making trouble?”
“Yes, isn’t that clever,” Henry Firth said. “The fact that the defendant doesn’t profit from her crime as quickly as she had hoped in no way reflects on the validity of the motive. Even if she never gets it, the fact is she thought she would. This is a cold-blooded murder for profit. The idea of bail is outrageous.”
“Personally, I think binding her over for trial is outrageous,” Becky said, “given that you have no evidence against her beyond the money you claim she mistakenly hoped to obtain. I would say the defense is making a large concession not contesting the arraignment.”
Judge Hobbs banged the gavel. “I would say that no one is conceding anything. You’re like a bunch of schoolchildren bragging about who’s smarter.”
“Oh, Your Honor—” Henry Firth said.
“Aside from the insurance money she’s not getting,” Becky said, “she has no other assets. She’s not going to run away from the insurance money any more than she’s going to run away from whatever bail you force her to raise.”
“I would tend to agree,” Judge Hobbs said. “Mr. Prosecutor, can you think of any extenuating circumstance that would make this particular defendant a flight risk?”
Henry Firth cleared his throat. “Murder is a serious charge, Your Honor.”
“I don’t need a lecture on the law. Murder is always a serious charge. The only question here is how much money will it take to encourage the defendant to show up and face it.” Judge Hobbs considered. “Bail is set at a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Henry Firth protested. “That’s only a ten-thousand-dollar bond.”
“I can do the math. Bail is set at a hundred thousand dollars; defendant is remanded to custody until such time as bail is raised.”
Chapter
43
“What do you want me to do?” Cora said.
Becky considered. “I have no idea. Short of getting someone to confess, I don’t know what I need. I got a woman arraigned on the skimpiest of evidence. As soon as Henry Firth wakes up, he’s going to realize it, too. My best bet is to just stall things along, let him try to make a case.”
“Is your client happy with that strategy?”
“I don’t think she’s competent to make that determination. It would mean understanding the facts, evaluating them, and placing them in the larger context of the situation. I’ve been to law school, and I have a fairly good grasp on what’s happening. She hasn’t and she doesn’t.”
“But she’s willing to let you act in her behalf?”
“That’s right. And as long as I’m in that position, I will continue to make decisions in her best interest in spite of her.”
“At the moment it’s in her best interest to sit tight?”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Becky made a face. “The problem is until this matter is settled the insurance company isn’t going to pay off. Brittany’s liquid assets are now tied up in a bail bond. Leaving her no money for retainers and legal fees.”
“I’m not getting paid?” Cora said.
“Maybe not as quickly as you’d hoped, but trust me you’ll get paid. I just may need to cut back on your services.”
“You’re firing me?”
“Perish the thought. I’m allowing you to control your own destiny. At the moment, I don’t know what to assign you to do. On the other hand, if you can think of anything worth doing, do it. I’ll see that you get paid.”
“I hate that.”
“Why?”
“Are you kidding me? I have to make a value judgment on my every move. As if I didn’t have enough trouble concentrating on the case while I’m dying for a cigarette.”
“I’m sorry. What would you like me to do?”
“Oh, Becky. Don’t lob one across the plate like that. It’s so hard to resist.”
The door opened and Chief Harper came in.
“Don’t you ever knock?” Becky said.
“I thought it was a public office,” Harper said.
“It’s a one-room office. It’s a public office and a private office. See the problem?”
Chief Harper waved it away. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got my own problems.”
“What problems?” Cora said. “You’re a winner. Your perp just got arraigned.”
“You’d think that, wouldn’t you?” Chief Harper sighed. “Henry Firth isn’t happy.”
“When’s Ratface ever happy?”
“Please.” Harper winced at the nickname. “I shouldn’t be spilling trade secrets in front of the defense, but he’s not happy about the case.”
“You’re breaking my heart,” Becky said. “What’s his problem?”
“He charged this woman without thinking it through. Just because a remote-control device makes it possible this woman killed her husband, it doesn’t make it likely. It certainly doesn’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. The only real indication she killed her husband is she had such a powerful motive.”
“You gotta love a good motive,” Cora said.
“That’s what you’d think. But actually it’s kind of a curse. He’s prosecuting the woman. The motive’s so good he can’t dismiss, but the evidence is so sketchy he can’t convict. It puts him in a no-win situation, and, wouldn’t you know it, he’s blaming me.”
“So that’s why you weren’t in court.”
“I thought Dan needed the exposure. Anyway, I think Henry’s starting to realize the idea she rigged a car bomb is going to be a pretty tough sell.”
“That would be my opinion,” Becky said. “I’m pleased to hear he shares it.”
Harper looked alarmed. “You’re not going to quote me on that.”
“Relax, Chief. You’re among friends,” Cora said. “So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your company? You come here just to dump on the prosecutor?”
“That’s not what I was doing.”
“You could have fooled me. Anyway, the defendant will be delighted to know the case against her is so bad.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harper said. “Any time you’re through screwing around you might want to take a look at this.” He reached in his o
vercoat pocket, took out a rolled-up manila envelope. “This was delivered to the police station.” He pulled out a piece of paper.
It was a crossword puzzle.
“What the hell?” Cora said.
“It was slipped under the front door, actually. No one noticed. Dan was at the arraignment; I was in my office. Dan found it when he got back.”
“I’ll be damned.”
Harper held it out to Cora. “It’s a photocopy, so you can solve it.”
Cora, caught off guard, looked to Becky for help. For once, the young attorney was speechless.
Cora turned back to Harper. “That is so nice of you,” she improvised. “Bringing us a copy. I assure you we won’t tell Ratface you did.”
“No, no,” Harper said. “This isn’t your copy. It’s my copy. I brought it to you to solve.”
“Oh.”
“So, come on. Solve it for me. Let’s see what it says.”
Cora bit her lip. “I can’t solve this.”
“Why not?”
“Come on, Chief. I’m working for the defense. I’ll probably be a witness. What’s it going to look like on the stand when Becky brings out how the police coerced me into aiding the prosecution?” Cora shrugged. “Unless you think it will be detrimental to the prosecution’s case. Don’t worry. I won’t tell Ratface you told us.”
Harper scowled. “Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends.”
“We are friends. One friend to another, I’m giving you a little friendly advice. If you want to stay out of trouble, take this puzzle to Harvey Beerbaum. If there’s nothing in it that Ratface wouldn’t want you to tell us, bring it back and I’ll be happy to discuss it. Ratface won’t be mad at you for helping the defense, and Becky won’t be mad at me for helping the prosecution.”
Cora smiled and spread her hands. “Win-win.”
Chapter
44
Cora was on the computer comparison shopping for underwear. Her panties had begun to feel a little tight. She decided to buy one size larger, just to see how they felt. She found the ones she wanted; now she was looking for free shipping. It was hard to get free shipping on a single pair. But not impossible. With a little work, Cora realized, she could get just about anything.
The phone rang. She scooped it up. “Hello?”
“Cora, it’s Becky. Have you heard from Chief Harper?”
“No. Why?”
“He never came back. From Harvey Beerbaum’s. Which has to mean something. He’d have come back unless there was something in the puzzle he didn’t want us to know.”
“He wouldn’t do that.”
“Why not? You put the idea in his head, saying he could get in trouble for showing us the puzzle.”
“I had to give him some reason for refusing to solve it.”
“Well, you didn’t have to give him that one.”
“It’s not like I had time to pick and choose: ‘Solve this.’ ‘No.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Ah—I never solve puzzles on Thursday.’”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“See, I’d have blown it. Becky, it’s done, I said it, I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but it’s kind of where we are.”
“Maybe Harvey Beerbaum kept a copy.”
“I doubt it.”
“Wouldn’t he remember what it said? Doesn’t he have a mind like a computer?”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because Chief Harper brought it to him so the defense wouldn’t see it. You think Harvey’s going to turn around and show it to us?”
“Damn.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll find out sooner or later.”
Cora hung up and drove straight to Chief Harper’s office.
The chief was on the phone. He covered the mouthpiece and hissed, “Shh!” He uncovered the phone, said, “No, no, I understand. Believe me, I’m running down every possible lead. I’ve got a call on the other line.” He hung up the phone and said, “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”
“I’ve got a lot of nerve? You took the puzzle and never came back.”
“You didn’t want to solve it for me.”
“So Becky wouldn’t have an ethical conundrum and you wouldn’t get in trouble for showing us.”
“Ethical conundrum?”
“Yeah. Becky suffers from them. Terrible disease. And no one marches for it.”
“Cora.”
“That was Ratface, wasn’t it? That’s why you’re upset. You don’t want him to know I’m in your office.”
Harper said nothing, glared at her.
“There was obviously something in the puzzle he wants you to investigate. Which you’re already doing. Evidenced by that ‘call’ on your other line. What are you doing about the new lead, Chief?”
“There’s no new lead.”
“Right. The crossword puzzle was a recipe for fruitcake.”
Harper exhaled noisily. He jerked open his desk drawer, took out a paper. “This is the puzzle. I can’t let you see it. It would get me into an incredible amount of trouble.”
“I can be discreet,” Cora said.
“Your discretion is the type that comes with a wrecking ball. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it. I hope you understand.” Harper put the puzzle down on his desk. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you. Do me a favor. Hang on a minute. I gotta give Dan some instructions.”
Harper got up and went out. The minute he was gone Cora jumped up and grabbed the crossword puzzle.
She read the theme answer:
You missed
It by a mile
Look at who
Is on trial.
Cora heard footsteps. She quickly replaced the puzzle and sat down in her seat.
Harper came in, closing the door behind him. “I think I set him straight.” He sat down at his desk. “Now then, what were we talking about?”
“You had something you wanted to tell me.”
“Oh,” Harper said. He picked up the puzzle, opened his desk drawer, dropped it in. “What?”
“I don’t know, because you didn’t tell me.”
“I can’t remember.” Harper shrugged. “It couldn’t have been that important. Anyway, I’d like your opinion.”
“On what?”
“The case, of course. Never mind if Henry Firth has sufficient evidence or not, what do you think of the case?”
“You’re asking this of a member of the defense team,” Cora pointed out.
“Right.”
“And you’re asking it as a member of the prosecution team. That’s a sticky situation.”
“Yes, it is,” Harper said. “So, what do you think? If the defendant didn’t do it, who should I be looking at?”
The only real answer was the girlfriend. It was the most logical answer to the question, and it was the answer that most helped Becky’s client. It was also the only one Cora could think of at the moment, which put it pretty damn high on the list of possible answers. If only it weren’t likely to get her in trouble for blackmail.
Cora was tempted to say “Billy the Bug.” But she’d caused the poor man enough trouble, finessing Rick Reed into asking about him on television. And the chief had already shot the idea down in no uncertain terms.
Cora hesitated.
“Come on,” Harper said. “You say Brittany Wells didn’t do it, who do you think should be on trial?”
Cora took a breath.
“I have no idea.”
Chapter
45
Sergeant Crowley wasn’t answering his phone. Nothing new there. Cora wasn’t sure if she wanted to drive all the way into the City and run the risk of bumping into Stephanie. Somehow that thought just kind of took the edge off her ardor.
She was hopelessly torn. She started, stopped several times. Got bundled up, went out to the car, thought better of it, went back inside, shrugged off her overcoat, and made herself a cup of coffee. “Made” was perhaps too st
rong a word. Cora didn’t brew herself one. There was coffee left over from a pot Sherry had made, and Cora zapped it in the microwave. She drank it, wondered belatedly if it was decaffeinated. She didn’t really want to be kept up late with bad thoughts bouncing around her head.
Aw, hell.
Cora pulled on her overcoat, got in the car, and headed for New York.
She got as far as the mall. She pulled up in front of Target, went in and bought a Samsung 37-inch high-definition TV set, went home, and set it up in her bedroom.
Buddy was pleased to see her but confused by the television. He loved the box, though, so much so she hated to take it away from him. She left it in the living room for him to play with.
Of course the TV wouldn’t work without a converter box, but Cora had bought a fifty-foot roll of cable. She ran it down the hallway and hooked it up to the cable box on the TV in the living room. She went back in her bedroom and turned on her new TV.
It was beautiful! In your face, Sherry Carter. You think you’re the only one with a TV in the bedroom, well, think again.
The only problem was Cora couldn’t change the channel without going back in the living room and zapping the converter box with the remote. She’d call the cable company in the morning, get them to come out. If they tried to stall her off, maybe she’d tell them she was the Puzzle Lady. Cora didn’t abuse her celebrity status often, but for something as important as a TV remote you didn’t have to jump out of bed and run into the other room to use it was surely excusable.
Particularly when that TV was small consolation for a New York cop with a girlfriend.
Cora went in the living room, disconnected the cable, reconnected the living room TV, picked up the remote, and flipped through the channels. She found a Knicks game. They were playing the Miami Heat. Excellent.
She disconnected the TV, reconnected the cable, went back in the bedroom where the Knicks now graced her new television, and flopped down on the bed to watch. Buddy hopped up beside her. Ah. This was the life.
She lay there, watching the Knicks, and fantasizing that she actually had a remote control, that she could change channels during the commercials. Or at least mute them. Boy, there would be a lot of things she could do then.