31

Bennie, Mort Abrams here.”

“Yo, Mort, how you doin’?” Bennie couldn’t stop looking at the photo of David. It was just too surprising. She never would have thought he could be involved in anything like this. The death of a twenty-three-year-old.

“Bennie, you there?”

Get over it. “Mort, yes. Sorry, it’s hectic here today.”

“I gather. The cops caught that animal who killed Robert, I hear. And that banker, too. I bet you’re happy.”

“Yes, right.” Bennie folded the article and slipped it under her mail. She couldn’t concentrate with the headline staring at her. “How can I help you, Mort?”

“Well, I’m calling with good news. I’ve decided to go with your firm, for representation in the class action.”

Really? “Really! How wonderful. That’s great news. Thank you so much for your confidence in us.” Bennie struggled to keep the surprise from her voice, but she was more puzzled than anything else. She had never done less to get a client. Maybe she should have been doing less all along, like reverse psychology. Trash your clients, so they come running. You’ll get clients with intimacy issues, but business is business.

“I look forward to our working together, Bennie. Now, when can you come out to our facility to meet the rest of my team and see the place? We’ll give you the grand tour of FitCo. Our lunchroom is great too.”

“Uh, well.” Bennie couldn’t begin to deal with it. “Here’s what I’d suggest, if it’s okay with you. Send me any paper and documents that arguably pertain to the suit. All the stuff on your English sub, and the contract you lost.”

“Key Medical, Inc.”

“Of course. I’ll review the file as soon as I get it, then come out and meet with you and the gang. This way I won’t waste your time, or your staff’s, asking questions I can answer myself.”

“Okay, good deal.” Abrams sounded cheered. “And payment, how do we work that?”

“I’ll send you a fee agreement for your signature. I work on standard contingency, but a small retainer could get us rolling. Say five thousand dollars?”

“That’s doable. Send me the agreement, I’ll sign it and send it back with a check.”

“Great, Mort. Appreciate it.” Bennie couldn’t believe this. Two days ago she would have been deliriously happy at the cash. Now she could barely get her act together.

“I’ll get you those papers right away.”

“Looking forward to it.” They said corporate good-byes, and Bennie exhaled audibly the moment she hung up the phone. She should have been happy, but it was impossible.

David. She had trusted him, but he hadn’t told her everything. Still. He had watched over her. Taken care of her. Seen to it that she had food and rest. And he’d given her good advice last night. He couldn’t have been in cahoots with Alice on anything. Thanks to him, she’d felt great when she’d gotten up today, and great when she’d come in. Her gaze fell on the edge of the article, sticking stubbornly from her mail, and she knew just what to do with it. Tuck it back inside. So she did.

It left her facing a flock of pink message slips, with CoreMed’s on top. She hadn’t focused on it before, at the reception desk. She slid out the message, and there were others stuck to it that she hadn’t seen. Total Lenz of Korea. Reiss, Inc. Tumflex. She didn’t know any of these names, but they sure sounded like lens manufacturers. They had to be potential class members. They didn’t sound like debt consolidators.

Bennie arranged the phone messages on her desk, with Julien St. Amien’s on top. He was her biggest and best client ever, and if the others were new business too, she had better stop whining and pay attention. Work had always focused her. Seen her through, even when all else failed. She’d rested last night, but that was then. And this was now. It was time to get on the horn. She picked up the receiver and punched in the number.

“Julien?” she asked when a man’s voice picked up, then the accent registered. “Georges?”

“Yes, this is Bennie? How are you, Bennie?”

“Fine, thanks.” A tide of guilt washed over her. “I’m so sorry I didn’t call you last night after I went to the police. I spoke with Detective Needleman and saw the suspect in Robert’s murder.”

“His name is Ronald Johnson, eh? Detective Needleman says he’s a Nazi type, a skinhead. He belongs to a group. So there are these people, after all, in America.”

“Yes, there are,” Bennie said. It felt like a shameful admission, even though Johnson wasn’t the killer. For a civil libertarian, there were times even she hated the First Amendment.

“So I see I am wrong, and I am glad they have him. I hope today or tomorrow they will charge him.”

“Me, too.” Bennie wanted to shift the subject because she was such a lousy liar. “Julien called, and it may be important. May I speak with him?”

“He isn’t in. He went out with Micheline.”

Bennie’s ears pricked up. “He seems very friendly with Micheline.”

“They get along very well, yes. It’s good that they spend time together, for Julien lost his mother when he was quite young.”

And Micheline is so motherly. “What, did she take him out to lunch?”

“Perhaps, I don’t know. I got my cast off this morning, and when I came back, they had left a note.” Georges paused. “Bennie, I am worried a little bit about Julien. He has been behaving so strangely.”

“With Robert’s death, he would be.”

“No, not sad. Secretive. What was it he talked to you about yesterday? Micheline told me she saw you two talking outside in the square.”

Oh, that. Bennie bit her tongue. She had said she’d keep it confidential, so she told a white lie: “Just a few things about the company. It’s probably what he’s calling me about.”

“Really? You sure that was it?” The doubt in his voice suggested he had a good merde detector. “Micheline said it looked as if Julien was upset, and she knows the boy quite well.”

“Yes, that’s all it was. Business. Please tell him I called.” Bennie said a quick good-bye and hung up before Georges asked another hard question. She sifted through the messages for the next business call, then punched in the number for CoreMed, Inc. “Is Mr. Gupta in, please?” she asked, introduced herself, and was put through.

“Gupta here,” said a voice with a thick Indian accent. “Ms. Rosato, thank you for calling back. It is a pleasure indeed to speak with you. I am a lens manufacturer for medical equipment, based in New Delhi, and I was a friend of Robert St. Amien’s.”

“It’s wonderful to speak with you, then.”

“I see on the news they have his murderer. It is a terrible crime. A terrible shame.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, to the point. I had the opportunity to see you in court the other day, I was watching your performance, and I admired very much the way you dealt with the situation, and also your liveliness.”

Bennie smiled. “I am lively.”

“I call Julien to send my respects to him and his family, and he is telling me that you will continue as their counsel. Is this true? He is quite happy about this, he tells me on the telephone.”

“Yes, it is true, and I am happy to do so too.”

“Then perhaps I wonder if you would consider serving CoreMed as counsel and representing my company in the class action?”

“Yes, of course,” Bennie said, amazed. It was like picking low fruit off a tree, this plum thanks to Julien. And even while she was saying yes, another call was coming in, which Marshall picked up. “I’d be honored to do so.”

“Excellent. This makes me very happy. When shall we meet to discuss our claim?”

“Let me check next week.” Bennie got out her desk calendar and flipped the pages to the next week. Empty, empty, empty, empty. “Friday looks good to me,” she said, for effect.

“Two o’clock on Friday?”

“Done. Why don’t you send me all the documents that are arguably relevant to the case and I’ll read them before we meet.”

“An excellent idea. I value such efficiency. Now, what about the payment terms?” Mr. Gupta asked, and she filled him in. She’d send the fee agreement, he’d send the retainer check. Bennie could almost hear the ca-ching ca-ching. She was on her way to solvency. Paying back the money she owed. Getting her house out of hock.

She picked up the next message before the phone rang again and punched in the number for Tumflex, Inc. When the call connected, she asked, “Is Mr. Riagrelli in? This is Bennie Rosato, returning his call.”

She spoke with Mr. Riagrelli, who wanted to retain her, then Mr. Grsucjki of Reiss, Inc., Ms. Lutenka of SeeMore, and after that Ms. Hurye, Horst Balshamn, Dreyer Ertmann, and Seji Yamamoto. It was a veritable United Nations of well-paying clients, and they didn’t care that she had taken only high school Latin. They all wanted to speak with her, meet her, or retain her right away, based on either Robert’s reputation, Julien’s recommendation, or what they’d seen of her in court. Of this latter group, they liked her spunk, feistiness, courage, balls, toughness, softness, cleverness, honesty, and oh, yes, muscular legs. Go figure.

Bennie took all comers and worked through lunch, and all the time she was talking, the other phones were ringing. When Marshall brought her a tuna sandwich, which she inhaled, she also had ten more phone messages. By the time Bennie was finished returning all of the calls, she had a list of twelve new clients, nineteen possible clients, and accounts receivable of over fifty thousand dollars, to be paid within the week. It was almost too good to believe. Not only was Bennie back in business, she was back with a vengeance. And if this kept up, there would be no contest at all about who would be lead counsel.

She picked up the last message, from Linette. He had to know what was going on. If he couldn’t feel the almost seismic shift of power, they all had to be buzzing about it. He had called twice while she was on the phone, but she wasn’t returning his call yet. Let him sweat. He’d want to know her response to his offer, but she’d known the answer even when she was broke. Yesterday. And Bennie still couldn’t believe he was Robert’s killer, or had him killed. Not with Alice out there somewhere.

She checked her watch. Three o’clock. Sooner or later she’d have to call David. What am I going to say?

“Incoming,” Marshall said, walking in with another batch of messages. “What is going on, Bennie?”

“It’s like dominoes. When one fell, they all did.” Bennie threw up her hands, astounded. “I think we got our law firm back, and you got enough maternity benefits for triplets.”

“Well, congratulations to both of us.” Marshall smiled, with relief she let Bennie see for the first time.

“You were worried. I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you don’t have to worry anymore, and I’m going to miss you.” Bennie ignored the silly lump in her throat. “When this baby comes, do whatever you want. Stay home if you want to. I’ll pay you for six months, full benefits and all. You have to be free to do what your heart says.”

Marshall looked at her as if she were nuts.

“I read it somewhere.”

“You’re assuming this baby is ever coming out.”

“It’s gotta come out, Marshall. How’s it gonna go to law school?”

“Ha!” Marshall said. She set down the messages and wandered out, her hand on her lower back, and Bennie winced just from looking at her.

“I keep telling you, I’ll come to the desk and get the messages.”

“Walking is good for me!” Marshall called back as Bennie picked up the first message from her desk. Mr. Cho, of Cho & Co. He could be her new favorite client. She suppressed a smile and punched in the number.

Bennie was bleary-eyed by four o’clock, when there was a very loud knock on her door. In the threshold stood Murphy and Carrier, looking very pleased with themselves. Bennie set down the telephone receiver. “I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve been working like dogs. Because we got so much work it’s not even funny.”

“We heard. But we’ve been doing something I think you’d approve of, very much,” Murphy said.

“Very much.” Carrier nodded. “We totally stayed away from Linette because he could be dangerous and a killer and repulsive, like you said.”

Bennie eyed them. “So where have you been?”

“Lunch,” Murphy answered. “A really long, really late lunch. But not with Linette. We had a better idea.”

“What did you do and why didn’t you ask me first?”

“I went to lunch with Ross, an associate from Linette’s office, and I didn’t clear it with you because there was no risk or weirdness.”

“Also you would have said no,” Carrier added, and Bennie felt a tension she couldn’t explain.

“Carrier, where were you while she was having lunch with this Ross?”

“We worked as a team, and I was backup. I sat at the next table, incognito, in case she got into any trouble.”

“As I was saying, Ross Pacine is an associate who works for Linette.” Murphy eased into a chair opposite Bennie, and Carrier into the chair next to her. “I went over to Linette’s to drop off some papers—”

“What papers?”

“An extra copy of our complaint, which I know is bogus, but it gave Ross the chance to ask me out. Which he did. So I said how about a late lunch instead, and he said sure. And we went to lunch and he had a few Amstels and he dished.” Murphy licked her glossy lips. “Linette is having an affair with the new receptionist, the one you call Miss Texas. He bought her a love shack at the Water’s Edge, down on Front Street. Near his house.”

“Ross knows this for sure?” Bennie asked.

“Everybody in the office knows it for sure. But Linette didn’t go see Miss Texas on Tuesday, the night Robert was killed.”

“You asked him that? Murphy, this could be dangerous.”

“Of course I didn’t ask, but I know just the same. Because Miss Texas had a breast job on Tuesday morning, paid for by Linette. I’m guessing she wasn’t in the mood for love that night.” Murphy folded her arms. “So where was Linette on the night of the murder? He wasn’t anywhere he was supposed to be, and he wasn’t even where he wasn’t supposed to be.”

“I thought he could have another mistress,” Carrier interjected.

“Ross said he doesn’t, Miss Texas would kill him.” Murphy raised an auburn eyebrow. “We think it’s time for you to talk to Linette. Ask him what he did Tuesday night, in some casual way, and see if he lies to you. Then Murphy and I can follow up.”

“Follow up?” Bennie repeated. “You two?”

Carrier was nodding eagerly. “And you know what else we found out? Ross says that Linette has a big goon who hangs around him from the old days, when he did criminal defense. This guy supposedly does all sorts of sleazy jobs for Linette, and I was thinking maybe Linette hired him to kill Robert. His name is Luke Deal.”

Oh, no. Bennie’s mouth went dry. “Luke Deal was tried for a brutal double murder ten years ago, in Bridesburg. The case made all the papers. Linette was his lawyer, and he got him off on a technicality, by suppressing his confession.”

Carrier’s face lit up “That’s incredible! Maybe Deal’s the one! We should definitely follow this up. I’ll research Deal online and find out where he lives.”

Murphy bubbled with excitement. “What if Linette was with Deal the night Robert was killed? They could have been in it together! I’ll call Ross and see if he wants to meet me for dinner, and afterward I’ll make up some excuse to stop by Linette’s office. I wonder if there’s a way I can slip away from him and sneak into the financial records and see if there are any suspicious payoffs and then—”

“Are you two nuts?” Bennie shouted, suddenly furious, and the associates looked at her in surprise. “Why do you think you can go running around after murderers!”

“What are you so mad about, boss?” Carrier asked, confused. “You do it all the time.”

Murphy frowned. “And why do you have to get so freaked out? We know what we’re doing!”

“I can take risks like that, but you can’t!” Bennie shot back. Then she heard herself shouting. She was so freaked out. She couldn’t let them get hurt solving this case. It made her realize something. She loved them. Loved them. The thought silenced her, at least for the moment. And the two girls, oblivious, kept chattering away.

“It only got dangerous when Ross made his move,” Carrier was saying with a smile. “He tried to grab Murphy’s knee under the table. Then I stepped in and saved the day, like Batgirl.”

Murphy looked askance. “You saved the day? Please. I handled him.”

“Oh, don’t even start with me! I was the one who dropped my fork and stabbed him in the ankle, accidentally on purpose. That’s why he yelped!”

“That’s not why! He yelped because I kicked him in the shin. It was nothing my Manolo couldn’t fix.” Murphy wiggled her overpriced designer pump, and Carrier laughed.

“No way! You needed me!”

“Who needs Batgirl when she has Blahnik?”

“Oh, blah blah Blahnik. You did!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!” Carrier gave her a playful shove, and Murphy shoved her back, less convincingly.

“Bennie, she hit me!”

Bennie let them bicker—her thoughts were going elsewhere. Her smile faded, and a chill came suddenly over her. Because she had realized something else:

She knew who had killed Robert St. Amien.