Puzzled Indemnity Page 5
“You’re the only one in town!” Brittany cried in exasperation.
Becky smiled. “Yes. That is one of the few advantages of practicing law in Bakerhaven. Now then, we found out your husband is seeing another woman, and you’d like to know who she is. Certainly a reasonable request. Though I’m sure Cora could give you a dozen reasons why it’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What a surprise,” Cora said. Before Brittany could react, she went on. “If Becky wants you to know who she is, I’ll tell you who she is. Even though it would be better if you didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Say the woman’s found dead. The police look for someone with a motive. How about the jealous wife whose husband was cheating on her? Jackpot! Warm up the cell. I wish all cases were this easy.”
“She’s not going to turn up dead.”
“No? Even if you go see her? Argue with her? Accuse her of stealing your husband? A catfight escalates into violence. You struggle; she falls; she hits her head. ‘Uh-oh. Should I call the cops? It’s an accident. At worst, self-defense. But what if they think it’s a murder? Maybe I should cover my tracks, get out of here. Wipe the apartment down for fingerprints, sneak out, pretend I was never there.’”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“It certainly is. They always catch you when you do that. Sometimes it’s not even your fault. The cops find a message from her on your husband’s answering machine. They figure you heard it. It doesn’t matter if you did or not; they fry you for it.”
Brittany frowned.
“And that’s just the accident. Your husband can put two and two together, figure out what you’ve done. If he’s a vindictive son of a bitch—and most husbands are—he’s going to lead the cops in your direction. Hell, he’ll practically have to. Because otherwise they’ll pick on him. Figure she was his problem, insisting he leave his wife. And he doesn’t want to bust up his marriage, so he kills her to shut her up.”
“Can you shut her up?” Brittany said.
“Cool it, Cora. You’re freaking my client out.”
“Not my intention. I was just pointing out why sharing the information I gathered might not be a hot idea. But it’s not up to me. I work for you. You have my report. You want to show it to her, that’s your business.”
Brittany stuck out her hand. “Gimme.”
Becky picked up the paper with the woman’s name and address and passed it over.
Brittany read the name. “‘Madeline Greer.’”
“Right,” Cora said. “Probably calls herself Maddy. So now you got the name and address. What you gonna do? You gonna call on this woman?”
“No.”
“Confront your husband with her?”
“Certainly not.”
“So,” Becky said, “without the document, that’s all I can do. You get ahold of it, bring it in. Or if your husband says anything that sheds any light on the situation, let me know.”
“In the meantime you might want to avoid moonlit drives on wooded lanes,” Cora said. “If you go out alone, check your brakes before driving over any mountain roads. I also wouldn’t eat anything he won’t.”
Brittany’s mouth fell open. “That’s awful.”
“Yeah, it is. Particularly if you’re fond of spicy foods. They’re good at hiding poison.”
Brittany put up her hands. “Okay, okay, I get the point. You gotta find out if he’s up to something. You just can’t let him know you’re doing it.”
Brittany jammed the name and address into her purse.
“I wouldn’t let your husband find that,” Cora said.
“Oh, what a clever suggestion. I never would have thought of it.” Brittany glared at Cora and flounced out the door.
“Well, I guess we’re not fired,” Cora said.
“No, but you certainly tried hard enough.”
“Damn right I did. That girl spells trouble.”
“You don’t think she’d kill her rival?”
“I don’t know what she’d do. She has a pathological fear of her husband. Which isn’t always a bad thing, husbands being what they are. But in her case, there’s no telling what it might drive her to. I wouldn’t put it past her to kill this woman just so she wouldn’t have to ask him about his insurance.”
“You really don’t trust her.”
“Do you? I notice you didn’t give her the picture.”
“Okay, you got me. If she really is as neurotic as she seems, why make it easy for her? If she wants to confront this woman, she’ll have to ID her first.”
“Do you want to confront this woman?”
“That would be contrary to my client’s wishes.”
“Everything is contrary to your client’s wishes. If she wants to find out if her husband’s having an affair, she’s certainly not making it easy.” Cora frowned. “There’s a thought.”
“What?” Becky said.
“If she wants to find out if her husband’s having an affair. Maybe she doesn’t want to find out if her husband’s having an affair.”
“Then why would she hire us?”
“Why indeed?”
“Well,” Becky said, “let’s assume she hired us for a purpose, and go about doing it.”
“Okay.” Cora got up. “Looks like I’m heading back to New York.”
Chapter
15
Crowley’s office was just as Cora had remembered it. Bare walls, cluttered desk, no place to sit unless you were a perp. Cora had been a perp the first time she was there, so she knew the routine. She sat on the metal folding chair, tried to look innocent. It had been easier when she was actually guilty.
Crowley shook his head. “I don’t believe it. You come by my office, in the middle of the day, during work hours, you sit right there, and you ask me to violate every statute in the penal code.”
“I didn’t ask you to kill her.”
“I count myself lucky. Look, IDing the woman was one thing. But this is not the way it works. You get me to violate some small law, then use it as a wedge to get me violate more and more, and the next thing you know I’m suspended from duty pending an internal affairs investigation.”
“I’m not asking you to do anything illegal.”
“Blackmail’s illegal.”
“Who said anything about blackmail?”
“You did.”
“I’m a private citizen. They can’t prosecute you for something I said.”
“It’s not what you said. It’s what you want me to do.”
“Did I ask you to blackmail anybody? Not at all. I asked you to pretend to blackmail someone. The type of thing that cops do all the time. A police scam. An undercover operation. Like a buy-and-bust.”
“This isn’t a buy-and-bust.”
“It could be. Plant some drugs on her, arrest her, see if her boyfriend bails her out.”
“That is a really low-percentage plan.”
“Yeah. Wanna do it?”
“No. Nor do I want to take part in any of the other harebrained schemes you’ve outlined. I happen to have a heavy caseload this afternoon. I’m glad to see you and all that, but I really gotta get back to work.”
“What time you get off tonight?” Cora was trying not to sound needy, wasn’t sure she quite made it.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good. I played hooky yesterday; I’m making up for it today.”
“Right,” Cora said. “Two days in a row would seem like a commitment.”
“Hey. Just because I won’t break the law doesn’t mean I’m not a nice guy.”
“I know.” Cora cocked her head. “Will it get you in trouble if that woman turns up dead?”
“It will if your client did it.”
“She’s not my client. She’s Becky’s.”
“That’s not the point. Just leave the woman alone. If I find out you tried to blackmail her, I will not be happy.”
“Hey. I’m a celebrity. People know who I am.
You think I can walk up to someone and try to blackmail them?”
“I have no idea what you might do.”
“Not in this case. Trust me. I won’t go near the woman.”
Chapter
16
Madeline Greer frowned. Her doorbell was ringing. Her doorbell shouldn’t be ringing. The buzzer from downstairs should be buzzing. If someone rang the doorbell without buzzing, they were either someone from the building or someone with no right to be there. Madeline didn’t know anyone from the building. At least not to socialize with, and she wasn’t the type to borrow a cup of sugar from. The super never buzzed; hell, she couldn’t find the super unless the building was falling down. Even when a water leak on the fourth floor sent cascades of plaster into her bathroom, she couldn’t get his attention. And no, he wasn’t on the fourth floor dealing with the leak; he was down in the basement sleeping on the cot behind the boiler. At least according to the tenant whose plaster was in her bathtub.
A ringing doorbell was a rarity indeed. Madeline peered out the keyhole.
A man in a suit and tie stood in the hallway. He carried a briefcase. He had a pleasant enough face, but his hair seemed too dark and his skin too smooth for a man his age. A funny thought, since those two things were clearly to obscure his age. But Madeline got the impression the man was not as young as he looked.
He certainly seemed affable enough, though. The type of man instantly attractive to women. Madeline wasn’t necessarily buying, but she wasn’t bolting the door and calling the police, either.
She opened the door on a safety chain. “Yes?”
“Miss Greer? Miss Madeline Greer?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Martin Kendrick, of Kendrick and Blake. I believe I have news for you.”
“Oh?”
“Are you familiar with a man named Gerald Waldman?”
“Not that I know of.”
The man nodded and smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. If he was a close friend, this would be a less pleasant occasion.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, since you don’t know Mr. Waldman, it won’t be a shock to learn that he is dead.”
“Dead?”
“Actually three months now. It’s taken that long to get around to probating the will. Whether you know him or not, it would appear you are one of Mr. Waldman’s beneficiaries. Of a rather substantial amount. Assuming you can prove you are the woman in question.”
“Prove? What do you mean, ‘prove’?”
“Well, since you don’t know the man, there is some reason for doubt. Can you prove that you’re actually Madeline Greer?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m going to need see some ID—driver’s license, birth certificate, passport, Social Security card—before turning over a check. And you’ll have to fill out the necessary paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
He tapped the briefcase. “I have it here. It’s a bit of a pain, but I can help you fill it out.”
“Yes, of course.”
She took off the chain, opened the door, and let her visitor in. She led him into the kitchen, sat him at the table.
He put down his briefcase, took out some forms.
“Would you like some tea or coffee?”
He smiled. “No. This won’t take long. Why don’t you have a seat.”
Madeline sat down, composed herself. “What do you need to know?”
“How long have you been sleeping with Hank Wells?”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
“Hank Wells. Is he a steady boyfriend, or do you have several? Not that I blame you if you do. You’re an attractive woman. I could go for you myself.”
Her face hardened. “Who are you?”
“I’m the silver-tongued devil who sweet-talked his way into your apartment. Now I’m the pain in the ass you have to deal with until you find a way to get me out.”
“What do you want?”
He shrugged. “What does anyone want? I want money. I want money from you, and I want money from him. I don’t care how much comes from whom, just so it adds up to ten grand.”
“Ten grand!”
“I’m afraid so. I have some pressing needs.”
“Now, see here—”
“No, you see here. I don’t know how well this is going to sit with the people in your circle, but I don’t imagine it’s going to go over well in his. You did know he was married, didn’t you? I can’t believe you’re that naïve. The guy’s gotta drive back to Connecticut every night. What’s he tell you, he’s superstitious, he’s gotta sleep in his own bed? No, you know he’s married. You just don’t care. His being from out of town’s probably convenient. You got a part-time man you don’t have to worry about.”
“How do you know all this?”
“What, like it’s a secret? The guy rings your doorbell, large as life, right out there for everyone to see. Hell, it would take a blind man not to notice.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Hank’s just a friend.”
He made a sound like a game-show buzzer. “Blaaah! Wrong answer. Friends don’t lie to their wives about who they’re seeing after work. Nope, you’re the home-wrecking mistress, and unless you’d like to be named correspondent in a messy divorce proceeding, it would behoove you to talk some sense into lover boy. It will actually be pretty enlightening. Give you a chance to see how he reacts at the prospect of losing his wife.”
Madeline drew herself up. “All right. I’ve listened to your spiel. Now get the hell out.”
He shook his head. “Clearly you’ve never dealt with a blackmailer before. That’s exactly the wrong attitude. I certainly hope Mr. Wells is better. I imagine he will be. Businessman and all. View it as a financial transaction.”
He stood up, snapped his briefcase shut.
Madeline watched in stony silence. Her lower lip trembled. It was all she could do to hold herself together as she herded him to the front door.
He turned back in the doorway, smiled. “When this is over, and lover boy dumps you, you wanna go out?”
Chapter
17
Melvin slid into the passenger seat and grinned at Cora. “Worked like a charm.”
“She fell for it?”
“How could she not? I was brilliant. Sensational. I should get an Oscar nomination. Hell, even you’d have believed I was a blackmailer.”
“Think she’ll call him?”
“Are you kidding? She was itching to borrow my cell phone. I tell you I was great.”
“Well, modesty was never one of your stronger qualities.”
“Oh, what were my stronger qualities?”
“I’m trying to remember one.”
He put his arm around her shoulders. “I could give you a hint.”
“What’s the matter, Melvin, you in between adolescent bimbos?”
“No, but that’s never stopped me before. Never stopped you, either, as I recall.”
“I’m older but wiser, Melvin. Like in the song.”
“Song?”
“Actually, it’s ‘sadder but wiser.’ From The Music Man. The problem with you is been there, done that.”
Melvin grinned. “Yeah, and wasn’t it great?”
“I recall some fleeting moments.”
“Come on. Whaddya say we get a room?”
“I’m on stakeout.”
“I’m not.”
“So you get a room.”
“And you’ll come by when you’re done?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll find someone.”
“Whatsa matter, you seeing someone?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“So what’s he doing tonight, that you’re spending it with me?”
“He had ethical concerns about blackmail. I figured you didn’t.”
“Good thinking. Hey, we got action.”
Hank Wells strode down the block
, rang the doorbell.
“That’s him,” Cora said.
“Sure seems in a hurry.”
“Yeah, you lit a fire under him, all right.”
“Want me to go back and scare him to death?”
Cora shook her head. “No need. The bimbo should do a perfectly adequate job.”
“Yeah. Lovers are never shy about nagging.”
“Probably not a winning point of view to hit me with.”
“You told me I wasn’t going to win anyway. Why should I bother tiptoeing around?”
“Why indeed.”
Melvin whipped out his cell phone, punched in a number. “Hey, babe. The thing didn’t take as long as I thought. Wanna meet me for dinner?… Your choice. Fine … Pick you up at eight.” He flipped the phone closed.
“You really dial a number, or was that just for show?”
“Oh, like you don’t have a backup plan?”
“Backup to what, Melvin? You were never my first option.”
“I seem to recall you married me.”
“Even then.”
He grinned at her. “This is nice. Sparring with someone who can throw it back. Most women can’t keep up. So. You sitting on him till he comes out?”
“I’d like to know how long he’s up there.”
“Why? You know what they’re saying.”
“I’d like to know how he feels about it.”
“Can’t you guess?”
“I wanna see the look on his face.”
“Even if it takes all night?”
Cora looked at him. “You didn’t get a date, did you? You’re still trying.”
“I got a date. You think I wouldn’t cancel it for something better?”
“Am I supposed to feel flattered?”
“If you got a look at this one, you would.”
Cora sighed. “Melvin, sometimes you say just the wrong thing.”
Melvin looked at his watch. “Come on, Cora. It’s early yet. The night is young. You really mind if I shake this guy down for a few grand? I got alimony to pay.”