The Anonymous Client

tell me what this is all about?”
    “Not unless you’d like to risk going to jail as an accessory to murder.”
    “Not today, thanks.”
    The intercom buzzed.
    “Ah,” Judy said. “That will be Miss Warmth, telling me my time is up.”
    Steve grimaced, picked up the phone. “Yes?”
    “A Mr. Fitzpatrick to see you.”
    “Tell him I’ll be right with him.”
    “A client?” Judy asked.
    “A lawyer.”
    “Sounds like my exit cue. Don’t worry. I’m in your corner all the way and my lips are sealed.”
    Steve opened the door for her and smiled. Judy could be a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, but in a lot of others she was a brick.
    Steve had just had time to have that charitable thought, when Judy stopped halfway through the outer office, turned back and said—largely for Tracy’s benefit, he was sure, “Do call me about dinner.”
    Steve sighed, turned, gestured to his inner office, and said, “Mr. Fitzpatrick?”
    Fitzpatrick’s manner was certainly different from when Steve had encountered him at the Harding mansion. The chubby face that had been so flushed and angry looked practically congenial.
    He wasted no time with any amenities, however. The minute the door was closed he turned on Winslow and said, “You testified before the grand jury yesterday.”
    “That’s right.”
    “I read the transcript. You didn’t tell ’em much.”
    “No.”
    “Among the things you didn’t tell them was the substance of your conversation with my client.”
    Steve said nothing.
    “Well?”
    “Well what?”
    “Do you care to comment?”
    “Not really. You came to me, Fitzpatrick. You’re going to have to carry the ball.”
    “I’d like to know what you discussed with my client.”
    “Why don’t you ask her?”
    “I’m asking you.”
    “Yes, you are,” Steve said. “From which I gather your client hasn’t told you.”
    “You can gather what you like. I’m asking you a question.”
    “Client clammed up on you, eh?”
    Fitzpatrick frowned. “My client is reticent upon certain matters. I’m wondering how much of that reticence I owe to you.”
    “I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.”
    “Interesting thing about the transcript of your testimony.”
    “Oh?”
    “Dirkson kept asking you if you’d ever been Marilyn’s attorney. Your response in every instance was qualified with the phrase, ‘to the best of my knowledge.’”
    “Naturally. Any response I’m going to give can only be to the best of my knowledge.”
    “Exactly. That phrase could apply to the answer to any question. Which is why there’s no reason to say it. And yet in every answer you made regarding whether or not Marilyn had ever employed you, you were careful to include that phrase.”
    “If you say so. I haven’t read the transcript.”
    “But you gave the testimony. And you knew what you were doing.”
    “Thank you for your assessment of my testimony. Now look, Fitzpatrick, it’s real nice swapping words with you and all that, but would you mind telling me why you’re here?”
    “I thought we might discuss the case. It occurs to me we might have similar interests. We might be able to help each other.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. Look. I don’t know what your connection is to my client, but you obviously have some interest in this case. And I have an interest in this case. Those interests are probably similar.”
    “You think so?”
    “Yes, I do. Now let’s get down to brass tacks. I got a problem, and a big one. Confidentially, the case against my client is pretty bad. And she’s not helping me any. And you obviously know something about her situation. And you know what you and she discussed. If you can give me some information to make her open up and level with me, well, we might just crack this thing.”
    Steve looked at him. “What sort of information did you have in mind?”
    “Anything to crack her shell and start her talking. The fact that she knew she was in trouble before the Bradshaw business happened. Just the fact that she made overtures to you would be enough. Just so I get her talking and can find out what this is all about. And if I had some inkling of what it was, I might learn something that would benefit you, and then I’d be in a position to reciprocate.”
    Steve considered that a moment. He smiled. “Bullshit,” he said.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    Steve shook his head. “Bullshit. Here you are in the spirit of friendship and cooperation. Mutual interests, indeed. You’ve just come