Mistress of Justice

Pouilly-Fuissé.
    They ate for ten minutes, Taylor nodding as he told her about the impending settlement conference in Boston duringwhich Hanover & Stiver would transfer the bulk of the principal of the loan back to New Amsterdam. He told anecdotes about some of Lloyd Hanover’s shady business dealings. Normally, she liked it when he talked about his job because, although she didn’t always understand the nuances, the animation and enthusiasm that lit up his face were infectious.
    Tonight, though, she was distracted.
    He finally caught on that something was wrong and his voice faded. He looked concerned. But before he could question her, Taylor set her fork down with a tap. “Mitchell.”
    He refilled their glasses and cocked an eyebrow at her.
    “There’s something I have to tell you.”
    “Yes?” he asked cautiously, perhaps suspecting some personal confession.
    “I’ve been looking into a few things. About Wendall Clayton.”
    Reece sipped his wine. Nodded.
    “He didn’t kill himself.” Taylor picked a lopsided bit of bread crust off the table and dropped it on her plate. “He was murdered.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
     
    Mitchell Reece smiled, as if waiting for a punch line.
    Then: “Why do you think that?”
    “I went to see his widow,” Taylor said. Then she added quickly, “Oh, I wasn’t going to tell her what happened—about the note and everything. But …” She paused. “Well, you know, I’m not sure why I went. It was something I just had to do.”
    He said, “I hear she’s a bitch.”
    Taylor shrugged. “She was civil enough to me. But you know what she told me? That if Wendall couldn’t get the merger through he was going to start his own firm.”
    “What?” Reece frowned.
    Nodding, she said, “He had it all planned out. I went through his desk at the firm. I found business plans, bank loan applications. He even had the firm name selected. Clayton, Stone & Samuels. He had a sample letterhead printed up and he’d been talking to a broker about space in the Equitable Building.”
    Reece too had put down his utensils. “But if he was ready to start his own firm it makes no sense for him to risk his career to push the merger through.”
    “Exactly. Stealing the note? He’d be disbarred if he got caught. And he’d probably be prosecuted.” Taylor held up a finger. “Another thing. Think about the gun.”
    “The gun he used?”
    “Right. I called my detective, my private eye, and he talked to some buddies of his at the police department. The gun he used was a .38 Smith & Wesson knockoff, made in Italy. No serial number. It’s one of the most popular street guns there is. ‘It’s like your McDonald’s of firearms’ is what John said. But if you’re going to kill yourself why buy an untraceable gun? You go to a sporting goods store, show a driver’s license and buy a twelve-gauge shotgun.”
    “Or,” Reece said, sitting forward, “why even shoot yourself? It’s messy, unpleasant for your loved ones. I’d think you’d park your car in the garage with the engine running.”
    She nodded her agreement. “What I think is that somebody else stole the note and planted it in Clayton’s office. Then when we found it he murdered Clayton to make it look like suicide.”
    “Who’s the ‘he’?” Reece asked.
    “At first, I wondered if his widow might’ve done it. I mean here she was hosting a bridge party right after he died. She knew about the affairs he’d had. So she certainly had a motive.”
    “And she must have inherited some bucks from him.”
    “True. But then I got to thinking and it seems that the killer’d need to know about the firm and have access to it. Clayton’s widow isn’t like Vera Burdick, who’s there all the time. Besides, Mrs. Clayton didn’t seem that upset with all his affairs.”
    “Well,” Reece suggested, “what about one of them? A lover? Somebody Clayton dumped?”
    “Sure. That’s a possibility. Or the husband or wife ofsomebody he’d had an affair with. But,” Taylor added, smiling, “what about some of the people we thought were suspects: Ralph Dudley. Clayton had found out about Junie and was blackmailing him.”
    “And Thom Sebastian. Clayton was the main reason he didn’t make partner.”
    “He occurred to me, too.… And one other possibility.”
    Reece frowned, shaking his head.
    Taylor pointed upward. “Go to the top.”
    “Donald Burdick?” Reece laughed. “Look, I know the motive’s there. But