“Still having trouble remembering what happened on the evening Frank was murdered?”
Doug stopped smiling and shook his head. “That’s still a blank. I keep trying, but…” He shook his head again.
“I might be able to help you fill in the blanks.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I know who killed Frank.”
“Really?”
Robin nodded.
“That’s great! Who killed him?”
“We both know the answer to that question.”
Doug looked puzzled, and Robin flashed a sad smile. “You can stop pretending. I know you murdered your best friend and I know why.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You were always the most likely suspect. You were alone with Frank when he was killed, and your blood was under his fingernail. But everyone knew you and Frank were best friends, and you’d been in a great mood when you got back from Seattle, so everyone gave you a pass because no one could think of a motive so strong that you would kill Frank.”
“That’s because I would never kill Frank. I owed him everything.”
“And he was going to take everything from you, wasn’t he? Quite by accident, Frank had discovered a horrible secret—something you’ve been hiding for years, something that would destroy your world.”
“I don’t know where you’re going with this, Robin. I don’t have any deep, dark secrets.”
“When did you graduate from law school, Doug?”
“Nineteen eighty-eight.”
“That’s not true, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Frank went to New York to negotiate the Voss case with Tyler Harrison. While he was in Harrison’s office, he noticed that Harrison had graduated from Sheffield University’s law school in 1988. You’re the only other person Frank knew who had gone to Sheffield, so he told Harrison that his law partner, Doug Armstrong, had been a classmate. And that’s when Harrison destroyed the myth you’d been promoting all these years. He told Frank the truth.”
Armstrong looked directly at Robin, his mouth set in a grim line. “And what is the truth, Robin?”
“You flunked out of law school, Doug. I know that for a fact. I checked with the law school alumni association. Your diploma is a forgery. I’m guessing that you moved to Oregon because you believed that no one in this state would know anything about Sheffield University. You lied when you said you passed the Oregon Bar exam. I’ve looked for your name on every list of applicants who applied to take or passed the bar exam from 1988 on. Your name isn’t on any of the lists. You never passed, because you never took it.
Doug stared at Robin in a way that made her recall the old cliché, “If looks could kill…”
“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m mistaken?” Robin asked.
“This is your story, Robin. Go on. It sounds interesting.”
“You know, it’s amazing. Once you start practicing, everyone assumes that you graduated from a law school and passed the bar exam. No one ever challenges you or is even interested. There have been any number of cases over the years of people who falsely claimed to be attorneys and fooled everyone for years.
“Frank believed you when you told him your tale of woe in that tavern the first time you met, and once you started appearing in court, everyone assumed you were a lawyer. But you’ve been pretending all this time.
“Practicing law without a license is a criminal offense. I’m betting that’s what Frank told you when you went to his office the night you returned from Seattle. I’m guessing that you begged him to keep your secret, but Frank is known for being very ethical and he must have told you that he couldn’t do that. You knew your world would end once the cat was out of the bag, so you grabbed that sculpture, smashed Frank’s head in, and killed your best friend.”
“Even if what you say is true,” Armstrong said. “I can never be prosecuted for Frank’s murder. Thanks to you, the murder charges have been dismissed with prejudice.”
“That’s true, but you can still be charged with Tyler Harrison’s murder.”
“What makes you think I killed Harrison?”
“I couldn’t figure out why you went through this charade of having amnesia. If you had gone to the party for your associate and said that Frank was coming later, you would never have been a suspect in Frank’s murder. You would have had the perfect alibi. Then I realized that you had to disappear so you could drive to New York in Frank’s car and kill Tyler Harrison.”
“Why would I murder a New York attorney I’d never met?”
“Come on, Doug. Don’t do this.”
“No, Robin. I’m really curious.”
“You knew that Harrison would hear about Frank’s murder the next time he called him about the Voss case. Once that happened, there was a chance that he would tell the police that you never graduated from law school. That would reveal your motive to murder Frank, which no one could figure out otherwise. You couldn’t take that chance.
“But, you had a problem: How would you get to New York without anyone knowing? You couldn’t fly or take any other form of public transportation, because that would leave a paper trail. That’s when you remembered that Frank’s car was in the garage. Driving to New York and back would take days, and that presented another problem. How could you disappear for the time it took to drive to New York in Frank’s car, murder Harrison, and drive back to Portland? Amnesia was the answer.”
“Those are several clever deductions. Hercule Poirot would have been proud of you. Unfortunately, there’s no way to prove I killed anyone in New York.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Did you stop for gas? You must have. Did the gas station have a surveillance camera? You must have gotten food. Can a clerk identify you? This is the age of surveillance, Doug. There are eyes in the sky that see everything. And you’ll still face criminal charges once I tell the authorities that you’ve never been an attorney, which will destroy you.”
“Are you going to do that? You’re my attorney.”
“Was your attorney.”
“So, you’re going to go to the police?”
Robin shook her head. She looked sad. “I like you, Doug. Everyone likes you. So, I’m going to give you the opportunity to turn yourself in.” Robin stood. “Get yourself a good attorney and have her negotiate a deal. Maybe she can even convince Vanessa to keep the fact that you’ve been lying about being a lawyer secret so you can keep your dignity.”
“I’ll give that suggestion serious thought.”
“Don’t think too long. If I haven’t heard by tomorrow from you or your attorney that you’ve confessed, I’m going to the police with everything I know.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
The meeting with Doug Armstrong had drained Robin, and she was exhausted when she got home. She fixed supper, watched TV, and waited. At eleven, she turned off the set, turned out all the lights in her apartment, and went into the bedroom. At one in the morning, her doorbell rang.
Robin walked to the front door and looked through the peephole. When she saw who was at her door, she started to open it. As soon as the door began to open, Doug pulled out Frank Nylander’s Glock.
“Freeze!” screamed Jeff, who had been hiding in the stairwell.
Doug swung toward Jeff, and Robin smashed her fist into Doug’s gun hand, moving the barrel the inch she needed to force the bullet to go into the floor. Doug was turning back toward Robin when she buried her fist in his solar plexus. The blow drove the wind out of Armstrong. He dropped the Glock and collapsed in the hallway.
Robin kicked the gun away just as Jeff appeared beside her with his gun drawn. “Bag the Glock and call Carrie,” Robin said as she knelt next to Armstrong. “You were going to kill me, weren’t you, Doug? Attempted murder is going to be easy to prove with two witnesses and one big fat motive.”