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“Of course,” Timberlaine said.

“Fine,” Sanders said. “Please look at it carefully and tell me that you can recognize it as the gun you said it was.”

Timberlaine took the evidence bag, held it up, looked closely at the gun.

Tracy Garvin squeezed Steve Winslow’s arm. She knew this was when Timberlaine was going to notice the substitution.

But Timberlaine merely said, “Absolutely. This is the fake gun. The one I found substituted for the real gun. The one I wore today and fired at the pistol range.”

14

Steve Winslow leaned back in his chair, inclined his head toward Tracy Garvin and said in a low voice, “Think you can get out of here long enough to use the phone?”

They were sitting at one of the dining room tables. The police had herded all the guests into the dining room and were holding them there while Lieutenant Sanders conducted the questioning. Steve and Tracy, by virtue of having found the body, had been among the first questioned. This had been brief, due to the fact that Steve had taken the position that Russ Timberlaine was a client, and therefore anything he had told them was a confidential communication. As a result, all he and Tracy could testify to was the actual finding of the body. Even then, they refused to discuss any reasons for being in the gun room and finding the body, but merely the fact they had done so. Their statements, both similar, were basically this: that they had gone to the gun room and found the body; that Steve had remained with it while Tracy went for help; that she had located Martin Kessington and brought him to the gun room; that he had left her and Steve there and gone to phone the police; and that he had rejoined them and waited with them until the police arrived. While that was somewhat less than Lieutenant Sanders might have wanted, he soon came to the realization it was all he was going to get, and Steve and Tracy were now confined to the dining room while Sanders finished with the other guests. Since he was taking them one at a time, and conducting all the examinations personally, they appeared to be in for a long stay.

“Piece of cake,” Tracy said. “What do you need?”

“Call Mark. Tell him to get his ass out here.”

“On a Saturday night? He’s not going to like that.”

“Tell him it’s murder.”

“He’ll like that even less.”

“Yeah. I don’t care for it much myself. Can you swing it?”

“No sweat.”

Steve jerked his thumb at the cop stationed at the dining room door. “What about him?”

“Hey, they’re letting people out to go to the bathroom. It’s not like we’re being held as suspects.”

“Not yet.”

“What do you want me to tell Mark?”

“Spare him the details. Just tell him there’s been a murder and I need him to investigate. If he’s got a pipeline into the cops out here that would help.”

“You really think Timberlaine’s in trouble?”

“I know it.”

“Why’d you jump in upstairs, make him identify the gun?”

Steve grimaced. “Because he wouldn’t shut up. Sanders was asking him why he fired off the gun at the pistol range, and he was about to say because he was pissed off about the auction. Which is just about the worst admission he could make right now. It won’t take much for Sanders to put it together. Timberlaine’s pissed off about the auction, he thinks someone tipped off Burdett, the one he thinks did it is Potter and Potter winds up dead. Once Sanders cops to that, Timberlaine’s apt to find himself assisting the police with their inquiries, as they say in British detective fiction.”

“What’s your obligation at this point?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you accepted a retainer from the man with regard to a stolen gun. Does that mean you have to represent him for murder?”

Steve looked at her. “You don’t want me to?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just asking.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Because Timberlaine won’t shut up and refuses to follow your advice. He’s spilling his guts to the cops now, and we’re cooling our heels here ’cause he didn’t want you with him. I’m just wondering why you’re not telling him to go to hell.”

Steve took a breath. “There’s a good chance I will. But not until after the cops I.D. the murder weapon.”

“How come?”

“Because until they do, the other gun, the one Mark bought and I altered, is still evidence in the case. I need to keep my hand in to make sure that evidence doesn’t come out.”

“Great. You gonna tell Mark?”

“Tell him what?”

“What do you think? About the substituted gun.”

“I’ve got to, Tracy. He’s a friend. He’s got a right to know.”

“Don’t you think he’s gonna be a trifle pissed?”

Steve smiled slightly. “I think it would be safe to say that.”

15

Mark Taylor’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Run that by me again.”

“Well, Mark, the bottom line is the gun you bought is being held in evidence in a murder case.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“But don’t worry,” Tracy said. “Steve filed the serial number off, so there’s no way the cops can trace it back to you.”

Mark Taylor blinked. “That’s a felony.”

“Yes, but you didn’t commit it,” Steve said. “I did. You’re totally in the clear.”

“I’m an accessory.”

“No, you’re an unwitting accomplice,” Tracy said. “They hardly ever go to jail.”

Taylor looked back and forth between the two of them. “O.K. the two of you rehearsed this pretty well. I’m gonna assume we’re not really in trouble, or you wouldn’t be kidding about it.”

“Well, you’re half-right, Mark,” Steve said. “It’s a mess, but it could be worse. The cops are holding our gun, yes, but only so it doesn’t get mixed up with the murder weapon. It looks just like it, you see.”

“Gee, what a surprise. And which gun is the murder weapon?”

“Apparently, the original gun we set out to copy. Now, wait a minute. That’s confusing. Because the gun we set out to copy was not the original. It was the first substitute.” Steve grinned. “Sounds like the Miss America Pageant. The First Alternate Gun. In the event the real Pistol Pete gun was unable to fulfill its duties, then-”

“Jesus Christ,” Taylor said. “What the hell is with you?”

“We’re punchy, Mark,” Tracy said. “We’ve been living a murder mystery out of a storybook for two days and it just came true.”

“Plus we snuck out on our police guards, so we feel like school kids getting away with something,” Steve added.

Steve and Tracy had slipped out of the dining room just in time to intercept Mark Taylor and hustle him down to one of the gun examination rooms. Since that was at the opposite end of the building from the gun room, it seemed a place where they would have a good chance of not being found.

Taylor exhaled. “Great. I’m glad you’re having so much fun. Would you mind telling me why you got me out here? Or was it just to have a good laugh at my expense?”

“Didn’t Tracy ask you if you had any police ties out here?”

Taylor made a face. “This is Nassau County. I don’t know from Nassau County. I’m trying to find out about Nassau County, but it happens to be the weekend and everybody’s off. I reached my receptionist, and I got her callin’ around trackin’ down all my operatives asking them if they got any ties out here. But it’s the weekend, reachin’ ’em is gonna be a bitch, I don’t know if she can do it. If I can get to a phone, I’ll call in and find out.”

“Hold up on that.” Steve said. “You might get picked up looking for one.”

“Get picked up for what?”

“You’ll get mistaken for a witness and confined to the dining room.”