“Like you said. Who had access? See, David’s immediate superior was his father, Stanley Castleton.”
“What?!” Steve said incredulously.
“That’s right. In charge of the division, being groomed to take over the company.”
“Why in hell would a man in that position risk something like that?”
“I don’t know, and I tell you, it’s nothing that David said. It’s just the impression I got. And would account for him being so upset. You asked me, so I told you.”
Steve rubbed his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah. It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say. So you left him the disk?”
“Right.”
“And you left his apartment?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Eleven-fifteen, eleven-thirty. Somewhere in there.”
“And you went straight home?” Steve said. He knew the answer, of course, but he didn’t want her to know he knew.
“That’s right. I went home, went to bed. Next thing I know, cops are knocking on the door.”
“And you never told David Castleton who you were?”
“No.”
“And you never told him your address?”
“No.”
“Or phone number?”
“No.”
“Or any way to get in touch with you?”
“No. I told him I’d get in touch with him.”
Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“How the cops got onto you so fast. Tell me something, you ever own a gun?”
“A gun? Why?”
“Why do you think? David Castleton was shot. With a thirty-two-caliber automatic. So tell me. You ever own a gun?”
“Of course not.”
“Ever borrow one?”
“No.”
“There was a gun found next to the body. Are you telling me there’s no way that gun could be traced to you?”
“Absolutely not. How could there be?”
“I don’t know. But it would explain how the cops got onto you.”
“I see that. But the answer is no. I’ve never had any connection with any gun. It had to be something else.”
“Yeah. Great. You sure you didn’t talk to the cops. Tell ’em anything?”
“Nothing. So what about it. Will you be my lawyer?”
Steve ran his hand over his head, sighed. “Yeah, I’m your lawyer. Tell me, where’s the other floppy disk? The original.”
“In my apartment.”
“How will I find it? Is it marked?”
“Yeah. It’s in a box of disks in my top dresser drawer. It’s marked with an X.”
“An X?”
“Yeah. In gold pen. There’s a special gold marker you can use to write on floppy disks. It shows up against the black. You can write right on the disk itself. I didn’t label the thing, I just marked it with an X. Right on the tab. You’ll see it riffling through the disks.”
“What about the other one? The one you left with David? Was that marked?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“X dash one.”
“In gold pen?”
“Right.”
“Then the cops should have found it. I’ll check on that.”
Steve took out a pen and pencil and slipped it through the wire mesh screen. “Here. Write out a note to your super, stating I’m your attorney and you’re authorizing me to get stuff out of your apartment.”
Kelly scribbled the note, pushed the pen and paper back through the screen.
“You’ll get the disk?” Kelly said.
“Yeah. I’ll get the disk.”
She looked at him with pleading eyes. “And then you’ll get me out of here?”
Steve sighed. “That may be a little harder.”
18
Steve dropped a quarter in the pay phone, called the office.
“Tracy, it’s Steve. Did Mark call?”
“I’ll say. Every two minutes. Did you take the case?”
“Yeah. She’s our client. What’s Mark want?”
“You, basically. He’s having a shit-fit. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him to hang in there, keep getting the dope, do nothing till he hears from me.”
“Should I tell him you took the case?”
“Sure.”
“You coming back to the office?”
“In a bit. I got something to do first.”
“Where you going?”
“Tell you later.”
Steve hung up the phone, stepped out in the street and hailed a cab. He paid it off a block from Kelly’s apartment, walked over and rang the super’s bell. He was in luck-the super was in. He was a skinny Hispanic with a moustache. He read Kelly’s note, then looked up at Steve Winslow with suspicious eyes.
“How I know she wrote this?”
“You don’t know her handwriting?”
“How should I?”
“Didn’t she ever leave you a note?”
“Sure, but I should remember?” He shook his head. “Nice girl. What the cops want with her?”
“Murder.”
His eyes widened. “No?”
“Yeah. And I’m her lawyer and I need to get in.”
“You don’t look like no lawyer.”
“I know,” Steve said. He whipped out his wallet. “Here’s my I.D. Steve Winslow.” He jerked his thumb at the phone. “Call the cops. Ask ’em who Kelly’s lawyer is.”
The super thought that over. He nodded. “Okay. You say that, it must be true.”
Which was a relief. Steve was bluffing. He didn’t really want the super asking the cops if he could get into Kelly’s apartment. Not that they had any right to deny him permission. He just didn’t want to start them speculating on what he was after.
It was also a relief when the super unlocked Kelly’s door and went back downstairs, leaving him to search alone.
Which wasn’t hard. It was, as Kelly had said, the most modest of one-room apartments. The furniture consisted of a single bed, a dresser and an end table.
The box of computer disks was in the top dresser drawer, just where Kelly had said it would be. Steve opened the box, riffled through the disks.
The disk with the gold X wasn’t there.
19
Steve pushed open the office door. “Mark call again?”
Tracy looked up at him. “Are you kidding? I can hardly get off the line with him before he calls again.”
The phone rang.
“See?” Tracy said. “There he is now.” She snatched it up. “Steve Winslow’s office … Yes, Mark, he’s here.”
“Tell him to come down,” Steve said.
“He just got in, he says come on down.” Tracy listened a moment, covered the phone, said with some exasperation, “Mark says he’s got too much stuff coming in right now, you should go up.”
“Tell him to put a man on the phone and come down. Tell him you’re pissed off at being left in the lurch and I’m afraid you might quit on me.”
The phone squawked.
Tracy hung up. “He heard that, and he’s coming down.”
“Great.”
Steve walked into his inner office, slumped into his desk chair, leaned back, closed his eyes and rubbed his head.
Tracy followed him in and stood there looking at him. “What’s the matter?” she said.
Steve opened his eyes, sighed, shook his head. “This fucking case. It’s really getting to me.”
“What about it?”
“I listen to this girl, and she’s either totally innocent or she’s the most accomplished liar I ever heard.”
“Oh?”
“The first story she told us was hogwash, or at least most of it.”
“She didn’t type nude?”
“Yeah, she did.” Steve held up his hands in exasperation. “That’s just it. The parts of her story that sound like outlandish, preposterous lies turn out to be true. It’s the reasonable stuff that turn out to be lies.”
“So what’s going on? You gonna tell me?”
“Of course. That’s why I had Mark come down. Turns out I got a lot to tell.”
“Like what?”
“Like-”
Then came the sound of the outer door banging open.
“There’s Mark now.”
Seconds later Mark Taylor came barreling into the room.
“All right, Steve. What the fuck is going on?”
“Take it easy, Mark. What’s the matter?”
“What’s the matter? The girl’s charged with murder, I’m sitting on a bunch of key evidence, and you ask me what’s the matter?”