Blood on the Street (A Smith and Wetzon Mystery, #4)

the room and felt her presence on the top of the stairs. Wetzon stopped and looked back.
    “On the street,” Judith said. “I see blood on the street.”

2.
    “A ND FURTHERMORE , C AFFERTY said you sold him damaged goods and he won’t work with us again.” They were sitting in their garden having lunch, but Smith was so furious she’d stabbed her salad to death in its plastic container.
    “Moi? I thought we were partners. How foolish of me.” Wetzon licked her fingers clean of the egg salad that had oozed from her pita sandwich. She was not about to let Smith dump this on her. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Evan was clean, no compliance problems, no billet-doux on his U4 or U5.”
    “But Cafferty says he’s an alcoholic. Couldn’t you pick that up when you talked to him? Dammit, I hate to lose a client these days.” Smith surveyed the destruction of her salad and slapped the container closed.
    “No, I couldn’t pick it up when I talked to him, and you couldn’t have either. I talked to him on the phone. I never met him. He’s in Ohio, for godsakes. Should I have gone to Ohio to meet a mere hundred-thousand-dollar producer? And if I had, could I have decided after one meeting that he was a lush?” Wetzon dropped what remained of her sandwich into its wrapping. “Just tell me this, please, is he doing any business?”
    “No. I mean, yes, he’s doing business. What bothers Cafferty is he goes into bars around town, loads up, and then tells everyone about the wonderful firm he works for.”
    It was a New Yorker cartoon. Wetzon choked back a giggle. Cleared her throat. Tried to get Smith’s eye. “Hey, what’s wrong with that, may I ask? He’s proud to be there.” The giggle rose. She clapped her hand over her mouth.
    The corner of Smith’s mouth twitched. “They feel it’s embarrassing for the company. Unprofessional and all that. You may laugh all you want, but clients are hard to keep happy these days and you know it.” She turned hard hazel eyes on Wetzon. “I’m really upset with you.”
    “Oh, give me a break. If they’re unhappy with him, let them fire him.” She snuffled her iced decaf through a straw.
    Smith made a face at her. “Would you mind not doing that? They can’t fire him. It’s against the law.”
    “Since when?”
    “I think it’s related to the civil rights law. Alcoholism is an illness” Smith shook her head. “I always have to pick up after you. Lately, every damn placement is a problem.”
    “Oh, shut up, Smith.” Wetzon shook her plastic fork at her partner. “You’re making me angry, and it’s too nice a day to be angry. I have a suggestion: would you like to switch? I’ll deal with clients and you can have the brokers.”
    “Humpf.” Smith uncapped the bottle of Evian water and poured the remainder into her glass.
    “And don’t tell me that in this small town in Ohio, people don’t know what’s going on. Cafferty wouldn’t even hire Evan without having him meet all the guys in the office—all five of them. He said it’s too small a place if the guy doesn’t fit. So Evan spent the afternoon over there and then had dinner with them. Don’t tell me no one knew he was an alcoholic.”
    “You can be blasé about it, but they’re never going to work with us again.”
    “Then the hell with them. It’s their loss. Just tell me, are they going to pay us what they owe us?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s all I care about.”
    “I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Smith was grudging. “But I think you should call Evan and put the fear of God into him. We’ve still got another six months to collect on him.”
    Wetzon groaned. “There’s no way my talking to him is going to make it right. How do you diplomatically say, ‘Evan, old bean, do you have a wee drinkie problem? If so, would you kindly stop it for six months, old sot?’”
    Smith grinned at her suddenly. “There, I know you can do it. Anyway, I’m working on something really big.” She held up the palm of her hand. “No, don’t ask me. If I land this client, we’ll ride right through the recession in a Rolls.”
    “I certainly hope so. The phones have not been ringing off the hook lately.” She smiled and leaned back in the garden chair, feeling the ironwork Victorian floral pattern on her back through her blouse. “On the other hand, the Langfords are about to accept at Shields Kaufmann and Brian Middleton is starting at Loeb Dawkins today.”
    “How