“I mean what size bill.”
“A ten, I think.”
“You think?”
“No, it was a ten.”
“What was the fare?”
“Six something.”
“Six what?”
“I don’t remember. Yes, I do. It was six twenty-five.”
“Then you must have got change.”
“Yes, I did.”
“How much?”
“Let me see. I told him to keep seven-fifty.”
“So you got two fifty back?”
“That’s right.”
“You tipped him a buck twenty-five?”
“Yes.”
“You remember him handing the two fifty back?”
“Not really. I remember taking it, shoving it in my purse.”
“But you don’t recall his face, him looking at you when he handed you the money?”
“No, I don’t. I really wasn’t paying attention.”
“But you do remember taking the money and putting it in your purse?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t hand you a receipt, did he?”
Her eyes widened.
Steve groaned. “Oh, don’t tell me.”
She put up her hand. “No, no. He didn’t. I’m sure he didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you asked me to get a receipt. For the other taxi ride. I got it, put it in my purse. I’d have remembered if there was another receipt already there.”
“So,” Steve said. “The receipt you got for the second ride-how much was that for?”
“Six seventy-five.”
“Oh yeah? Faster meter?”
“Yeah, I guess. No, I remember now. The cab had the fifty cent surcharge-for after dark. That was the difference.”
“Is that right?” Steve said.
“Yeah. That’s right.”
Steve leaned back, cocked his head. “You recall last night in my office? I asked you about finding the body, you told me you took the subway down.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh yes you did,” Steve said. “I remember because I was particularly relieved.”
“Maybe so, but I didn’t say that.”
“Oh no? Don’t you remember how we talked about you walked from Seventh Avenue so you must have passed by the window of the music store?”
Amy frowned.
“Beginning to refresh your recollection?” Steve said sarcastically. “Or was that a lie too?”
“It’s not a lie,” Amy said. “I walked from Seventh Avenue.”
“Oh?”
“Because 47th Street’s one-way west. I wasn’t going to have him go all the way around the block. So I paid him off at 47th and Seventh. And walked from Seventh Avenue, just like I said.”
“So the only lie you told was about taking the subway.”
“I never said I took the subway. I may have said I walked from Seventh Avenue, but I’m sure I never mentioned the subway.”
“Fine,” Steve said. “The second cab you took-the one you got the receipt for-he let you out at 47th and Seventh too?”
“No, of course not. You told me to give him the address and go right to the door.”
“Oh.”
“Well, didn’t you? Wasn’t that the whole point?”
“Yes, it was.”
“There you are.”
“Did that cab have to take you around the block?”
“Of course.”
“That’s why there was fifty cents more on the meter?”
“Sure.”
“What about the fifty cent surcharge?”
“Huh?”
“I thought the cab was more because there was a fifty cent surcharge for driving at night.”
“Oh. Well, maybe it was.”
“You can’t even keep your lies straight, can you?”
“They’re not lies.”
“Uh huh,” Steve said without enthusiasm. “Anyway, you paid off the cab and went inside. What time was that?”
“Just about eight.”
“You went in and used your key?”
“I didn’t have to. The door was open.”
“But you were going to use your key?”
“Yes.”
“The door was open and the lights were on?”
“That’s right.”
“You expected Frank Fletcher to be there?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, what did you do?”
“I went in, looked around, listened.”
“Surprised when you didn’t hear him?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Call his name?”
“Sure.”
“What did you do when you got no answer?”
“I went over and looked at my desk. That’s when I saw the petty cash drawer was open.”
“What did you do then?”
“I was scared. The place had been robbed, and Frank was gone. I looked around and found him.”
“Right away?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Last night you said it was five or ten minutes.”
She frowned. “Why do you keep doing that? Telling me what I said last night? I was upset. I’d had a huge shock. I’m telling this the best I can.”
“No, you’re not,” Steve said. “You’re telling me what you think I want to hear. You’re such a liar you pick and choose what you want to say.”
“I do not.”
“Sure you do. I can even tell you why. Last night you weren’t letting on you got a call from Frank. You were telling the other lie-that you went to clean out your desk. There was no reason to be looking for him. So when I ask you what you did, you say you looked around a bit and eventually you went in his office and found him dead. So when I ask you how long it took, you say five or ten minutes. Of course, you can’t say what you were doing during that five or ten minutes, because they didn’t exist. The fact is, the minute you saw the petty cash drawer open, you said, Oh shit, Frank, and went in his office and found him dead. You just made up the five or ten minute bullshit because you weren’t admitting you knew Frank was there in the first place.”
Amy said nothing, just glowered at him.
“But that’s the way it’s gotta be,” Steve said. “At least the way you tell it now. You were on the phone with Tracy Garvin at eight o’clock. You’d already found the body by then. If you left your apartment at seven forty-five, took a taxi straight downtown, you ain’t got time to blow your nose. Five or ten minutes, hell. I don’t know where you found the time to get out and call her from a pay phone on the street.”
Amy’s eyes faltered.
“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “You called her from the office phone?”
“What difference would that make?”
“They’ll trace the fucking calls!” Steve exhaled, shook his head. “Jesus Christ, is it a compulsion with you to lie? We’re at the point, I can’t believe a single word you say.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Again with fair?” Steve said. “I don’t think it’s fair I’m in a position where I could get disbarred. But it’s getting to look damn likely. Look, do me a big favor. Stop trying to make your actions sound better. And stop trying to figure out what I’d like to hear. Just tell me what really happened.”
“I’ve told you what really happened.”
“You’ve given me three or four versions. What about the petty cash?”
“What about it?”
“Did you take it?”
“No, I tell you, I found the drawer open and the money gone.”
“Not last night,” Steve said. “I’m not talking about last night. I mean the trial. The famous petty cash trial. You happen to take any of that?”
Amy glared at him defiantly. Then her eyes faltered.
“Oh, whoopdedo,” Steve said. “I might have known. You care to tell me about it?”
“There’s nothing to tell. I didn’t take the money.”
“Then why the guilty reaction?”
“I don’t know.”
“I do. You’ve told so many lies, you can’t tell which story you’re on anymore.” Steve exhaled, shook his head. “Look, I’m tired of the small lies. Let’s go for the biggie. Tell me. Did you kill him?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Really?”
“I swear I didn’t.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Damn it-”
Steve held up his hand. “When you looked at the body, what did you think?”
That startled her. She blinked. “What?”
“When you first found the body-what was your reaction?”
“I couldn’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’d never seen a violent death. I couldn’t believe he was really dead. Or, rather, I couldn’t believe someone had killed him.”