Bennie nodded. “Door number three, the cab. He’s too self-important to take a bus, much less walk.”
“I thought so, too.” Carrier held up a finger, her china blue eyes keeping a secret. “Now, we know that he didn’t go back to the office. So we need to eliminate the possibility that he went home.”
“How do we do that?”
“We do what I did. First question. What is the way that most lawyers, especially ones with major dough, get a cab at that hour?”
“They call a radio cab, Penn Call. We did it at Grun.”
“Right, and we did it at Stalling and Webb, too. It’s easiest. They come right away. You charge it to the firm, you sign a receipt for the fare and the tip. It costs nothing and it’s instant. So I made a basic assumption, that if Linette changed his mind about going to work, he would have taken a Penn Call cab home. You with me?”
“I don’t know.” Bennie was dubious. “It’s not that hard to get a cab at a hotel like the Hyatt, where the Palm is.”
“True, but Abrams would have seen Linette grab a cab there, especially because he had to wait for the valet to get his car. Abrams didn’t say he had seen Linette do that. So it’s logical to assume that if Linette got a cab, it wasn’t at the Palm.”
“Okay,” Bennie said. The reasoning held up.
“So let’s say Linette walks toward his office and then decides to go home. There are so few cabs in this city, it’s not New York, and I think he’d save himself the hassle and do what the rich lawyers do. Phone Penn Call.” Carrier paused. “So I called Penn Call, pretending to be Linette’s secretary. I told them that he’d left his Montblanc pen in the cab last night, and asked if they knew which cab he took from the Palm to his house.”
Bennie smiled. “Cute.”
“They said if he had taken a cab, the driver would have turned in the receipt. But guess what? They had no record he took a trip from the Palm to his house, and they checked all the receipts. They even asked the drivers. And yes, Linette does have an account with Penn Call. He uses them exclusively. The dispatcher told me he even keeps them on speed dial, on his cell.” Carrier couldn’t hide her pride. “And by the way, they also told me they didn’t take him anywhere else that night either. Linette was not in a Penn Call cab the night Robert was killed.”
Hmm. Bennie was worried about something. “What if the cab company-”
“Calls and tells Linette?” Carrier held up her traffic hand. “Don’t worry, I thought of that. I called back as the secretary, saying I’d made a mistake and please not to tell my boss I screwed up.”
“Smooth.”
Carrier grinned. “So let’s review. What have we learned? That Bill Linette didn’t go back to the office or to his house on the night St. Amien was murdered. So, where was he?”
“Interesting.” Bennie mulled it over. “Of course, there are other places to go.”
“We’re talking about Philadelphia.”
Murphy’s lovely green eyes shifted to Carrier. “Judy, how many married men do you know?”
“My dad,” Carrier asked, nonplussed, and Bennie smiled while Murphy followed up.
“Well, I know more than a few, because they hit on me all the time. I’m not bragging, I’m just giving you a field report. Nine times out of nine, if a man is hitting on me, he’s married.”
“You’re kidding,” Carrier said, so surprised she couldn’t finish her second doughnut.
“If Linette didn’t go home on a night he told a client he was going back to the office, I bet you he’s got a chick somewhere.” Murphy pushed aside her coffee. “And he’s probably set her up in an apartment in town, within walking distance of his office, for his convenience.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s the standard offer. Platinum AmEx, BMW convertible. It’s minimum wage.”
“Whoa,” Carrier said, but Bennie was remembering her visit to Linette’s plush offices.
“Linette has a receptionist who looks like Miss Texas.”
“Now you’re talking,” Murphy said. “I’d start there.” She turned to Carrier. “Sorry to shoot your theory, Jude.”
“It’s not shot, Murph. We just go digging.”
“What do you mean?”
“We find some reason for you to go over to Linette’s office and see if he hits on you.”
Murphy sniffed. “Of course he’ll hit on me. I’m practically undefeated.”
“Are you two nuts?” Bennie interrupted.
“What?” they both asked, in unison. The phone started ringing but everybody ignored it.
“Have Linette hit on you, Murphy?” Bennie couldn’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth. “It’s crazy, dangerous, and revolting! And it wouldn’t prove anything!”
“It could,” Murphy answered.
“Like what?”
“We don’t know yet. We’d be investigating.” Murphy looked as if she were actually considering it, sipping her coffee and narrowing her eyes. “We have to find out what Linette’s up to, then confront him.”
Carrier joined in. “Or turn him in. Or catch him in a lie. It’s not the whole picture yet, boss. It’s just a piece. That’s how we always do it. Piece by piece, like a puzzle.”
“What? No we don’t. It’s not a puzzle!” Bennie wanted to tear out her moussed hair. The only problem with Mama was the kids. “I do not send my associates to seduce killers!”
“I bet we could crack this case, Bennie,” Murphy added.
“Absolutely not!” Bennie’s good mood vanished. She reached for her coffee but it was cold. The intercom starting buzzing on her phone, and she picked up. “Yes, Marshall?”
“Got Sam on line one. He says it’s really important.”
“Okay, thanks. Ask him to hold while I kill my associates.” Bennie pressed off the intercom and turned to the offenders. “Girls, leave my office and get back to work. Do legal work, since we’re back on the class action. Leave Linette alone. And leave me alone.”
“Okay.” Carrier got up, obviously disappointed, and Murphy went after her, taking her coffee.
“Making a big mistake, Bennie.”
“Right. See ya. Bye.” Bennie hit the flashing light on her phone. “Sam, before you tell me anything, let me tell you something. I’m back in business. St. Amien’s son wants to continue the case.”
“Wonderful, but I’m not calling about money. I’m calling about your friend David. Did you get my envelope? I had it hand delivered.”
“Uh, wait.” Bennie fished through the mail that Marshall had given her, then gave up. “What’s it say?”
“Read it. I would have faxed it to you, but the photo came out too black.”
“Hang on a minute.” Bennie reached for the manila envelope with the red hand-delivery stamp from Grun, and slipped her hand inside. “Gimme the sneak preview.”
“Your bodyguard David has a past you should know about.”
“What?” Bennie pulled out the piece of paper from the envelope. It was a photocopied clipping from a local newspaper in California. The headline read, SEAL INSTRUCTOR CHARGED IN CADET’S DEATH, and next to it was a small head shot of David, mostly obscured by the darkness of the fax. She could recognize his eyes and mouth, pixilated, in inky black-and-white dots.
Oh my God. Bennie’s heart stopped as she read the brief paragraph:
David R. Holland was indicted today in the death of Cadet John Wellington, 23, of Encino, who died Monday morning, during training of the Navy SEALs. Cadet Wellington succumbed to a heart attack during one of the exercises supervised by Instructor Holland, comprising so-called “Hell Week.” Instructor Holland, who served as Assistant Director of the training facility, was suspended pending a military hearing on the charges. The hearing is set for March 3.