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“No kidding? Is Frank Jaffe representing him?”

“He can’t. He represented Mrs. Pope, so he has a conflict of interest.”

“Too bad. I always wondered how I would have held up if he’d questioned me. I was looking forward to crossing swords with him. So, if Frank isn’t Marsh’s lawyer, who is?”

“Frank’s daughter, Amanda.”

Rose nodded. “That’s right. She’s supposed to be pretty good, too. So, what can I do for you?”

“I wanted to talk to you because Karl Burdett will probably call you as a witness.”

“About Sally trying to hire me to kill Junior?”

Kate nodded. “You were also at the Westmont when Congressman Pope was shot, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but I can’t help your client.”

“Oh?”

“I was some distance from the action in the parking lot, almost at my car, when I heard the shot. I turned around but I couldn’t see much because of the people between me and the congressman, and it was dark.”

“Why were you at the club that evening?”

“I probably worked late. I had administrative duties connected with being the club pro. But that’s a guess. You’ve got to remember, this was twelve years ago.”

“I appreciate that. Maybe I can help you. I’ve just been through the file, so a lot of this is fresh for me. There was a report that contained the statement Sally Pope gave to the police on the evening of the shooting. She says that you tried to talk to her just as the limo with Marsh and his entourage drove up.”

Rose shrugged. “If she said that happened I won’t deny it.”

“Why did you want to talk to her? I would have thought you wouldn’t want to go anywhere near her after she tried to get you to kill the congressman.”

“I honestly don’t remember talking to her, so I can’t help you. Now, will you tell me something?”

“If I can,” Kate said.

“What’s the deal with Marsh? Why is he coming back after all these years? I thought he was safe and sound in…What’s the name of the country where he was hiding out?”

“Batanga. And I really don’t know why he decided to return.”

“Maybe it got to be too much for him,” Rose mused. “It happens. You read about these sixties radicals that have been underground for years and they’re married and have kids and they get an attack of conscience and turn themselves in.”

“Could be,” Kate said. “I really don’t know. Getting back to the case, do you still maintain that Sally Pope asked you to kill her husband?”

“That’s what happened.”

“You’re certain about that?”

Rose laughed. “I may not remember some things about that time but you don’t forget a person asking you to murder someone.”

“And that was in Dunthorpe at the seminar?”

“Right.”

“Okay, back to the Westmont. When you were walking to your car, did you notice Mr. Marsh?”

“I may have, but I don’t recall.”

“How do you feel about Marsh, personally?”

“What do you mean?”

“He did break your nose after the seminar in Dunthorpe.”

Rose laughed. “He didn’t break it, he just bloodied it, and that’s water under the bridge.” Rose swung his hand out in an expansive gesture. “Look around you. You may have noticed that I’ve got a lot on my plate. As far as I’m concerned, that business with Sally and the guru is light-years away. When you see him tomorrow, you tell him I’m not holding any grudges.”

“Fair enough.” Kate stood up. “Thanks for seeing me. I know you’re busy, and I appreciate it.”

Rose also stood up. “No problem,” he said as he walked Kate to the door. She handed him her card.

“If you think of anything, give me a call.”

Rose studied the card. “Sure thing,” he said. “Allison will take you down.”

On her way back to her car, Kate rewound the interview in her mind and concluded that she hadn’t learned a thing. But something Rose had said nagged at her during the trip back to the office. Only she couldn’t figure out what it was.

CHAPTER 29

Amanda stepped out of the hatch of the Gulfstream G550 and shaded her eyes from the sun. As soon as they adjusted to the glare, Amanda spotted TV vans, a mob of reporters, and Karl Burdett and two policemen standing outside the rear door of the FBO. Amanda stared at Burdett for a second, then turned around and glared at Dennis Levy.

“What are they doing here?”

“We have to start selling Charlie’s side of the story if we want to get the public on our side,” Levy explained as if his betrayal was the only reasonable course of action.

Amanda shoved Levy back into the interior of the plane, forcing Charlie to take a few steps back.

“You idiot. Did it ever enter that thick skull of yours that one of the reporters might call the district attorney to get his take on the return of Oregon’s most wanted fugitive?”

“The DA?”

“Yes, Dennis. He’s the gentleman standing with the two policemen. Burdett’s probably here to arrest Charlie because he thinks I double-crossed him by calling a press conference to get our side in front of the public before he could.”

“I…It never…” Levy stuttered.

“If you pull something like this again I will have you on the next plane back to New York.”

“I don’t work for you,” Levy answered belligerently.

“That is correct. You work for World News. I work for Charlie Marsh and I don’t work for World News. If you go behind my back one more time I will advise Charlie to give Newsweek exclusive access to his story.”

Levy paled. “Look, don’t do anything rash. I just thought the publicity would put Charlie in a good light.”

“I don’t try my cases in the press, Dennis. I try them in court. And I know exactly why you stage-managed this media circus. You want to sell copies of World News and promote your book, so don’t go all Mother Teresa on me about how you called the media to help Charlie.”

“No, no, I really wanted to help Charlie. I mean I know this will help me too, but that wasn’t my main motivation.”

Amanda decided not to waste any more energy on Levy. She looked over his shoulder at her client.

“Not a word when the cameras start rolling, understood? If we’re lucky I’ll be able to talk Burdett out of arresting you.”

“I’m not talking to anyone,” Charlie assured her. “The DA can use anything I say to the press against me.”

Amanda stared angrily at Levy. “At least one of you was listening. Now, I’m going to lead us off. You two stay behind me and I’ll try to keep Charlie out of jail.”

The crowd had surged forward the first time Amanda stepped out of the plane, and they were waiting at the bottom of the stairs that connected the private jet to the tarmac. Amanda paused halfway down so she was above the reporters.

“Good morning. I’m Amanda Jaffe, Charlie Marsh’s attorney. I’m glad to see District Attorney Burdett here. I want to thank him for agreeing to let Mr. Marsh voluntarily surrender tomorrow at his bail hearing when he could have taken him into custody today. It’s always a pleasure when the defense and the prosecution can operate on a handshake.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw Burdett’s face turn the color of severe sunburn.

“Why has Mr. Marsh waited twelve years to turn himself in?” a reporter called out.

“We’re all exhausted from our plane ride and we won’t be making any statements right now. I can say on Mr. Marsh’s behalf that he’s excited to be back in America and he is eager to have his day in court.”

“Why did he flee the country, Amanda?” another reporter shouted.

“This venue is an inappropriate place to try Mr. Marsh’s case. The district attorney and I will both be in court and we’ll have our say there. Thank you for being understanding.”