The Baxter Trust

dollars to my ex-wife if she had gotten her hands on it. He wanted ten thousand dollars to keep it quiet. I gave it to him.”
    Steve smiled, taking the sting out of the words. “Come off it, Zambelli. That’s not your style. You’re not the type of guy to pay blackmail. You’d have rubbed him out first.”
    Zambelli seemed quite unruffled by the suggestion. “Mr. Winslow,” he said. “I’m a businessman. It would have cost me more than ten thousand to have him killed. Therefore, I paid him off.”
    Steve shook his head. “Yes, but you know perfectly well that a blackmailer never quits. Ten grand was just the first bite. What was to stop Greely from boosting the ante?”
    “In the first place, I checked him out. He was a very clever blackmailer. You probably know that he’s never been arrested. That’s because he never tried to bleed his marks. He’d take one bite and quit.
    “In the second place, as soon as my divorce was settled, he lost his leverage.”
    For the first time, Zambelli’s face got hard. “And in the third place, he wouldn’t have dared. Now look, you and me, we’re sitting here, we’re talking blackmail. That’s because Greely was a blackmailer, and that’s how you got the story, so between you and me, that’s fine, what do I care? But let me tell you. This was not blackmail. You are right, I would not pay blackmail. It happens that Greely is a guy who in his profession hears things and finds out things. He got this information. He brought it to me, through Louie, and I was grateful to have it and to know where it came from, because then I could dry up the source. So I gave him the ten grand. It was a reward, a thank you, for bringing it to me and no one else. It was payment for a job well done.”
    Zambelli waved his hand. “Now, that’s neither here nor there. We can call it blackmail. And the police would certainly call it blackmail. But if you have to know why I paid, then you are right. I would not pay blackmail. I would rub him out first. But this was not blackmail, and that is why I paid.”
    Steve thought that over. “All right,” he said. “Suppose I buy all that? Why is it to your advantage to have me know all about this?”
    Zambelli was once more the smiling host. “Because I have no wish to be dragged into court. You’re Sheila Benton’s lawyer. You’re perfectly capable of subpoenaing me and throwing me in the district attorney’s face as a possible suspect. Now, I had nothing to do with the murder. That doesn’t bother me. But I would find it particularly embarrassing to have the district attorney cross-examine me concerning my activities on the day in question.”
    “I would hate to cause you embarrassment.”
    “Then keep me out of it.”
    “You still haven’t given me a reason why I should.”
    Zambelli took a drink of brandy. “As it happens,” he said, “at the time of the murder I was engaged in a little game of cards.”
    Steve looked at him skeptically. “At twelve-thirty in the afternoon?”
    “The game actually began the night before. Two of the players were wealthy corporate executives. Being heavy losers, they were reluctant to quit. So they phoned in sick, and the game continued.”
    “Did their luck improve?” Steve inquired with mock seriousness.
    Zambelli matched his tone. “It did not.”
    Zambelli reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He extended it to Rita, who took it to Winslow, then returned to her seat. She managed to give the impression of a dog doing a trick.
    “Here’s a list of names,” Zambelli said, “of the people involved in the poker game. The first two names are friends of mine. You’ll find them most cooperative. The last two names are the corporate executives. They may be a trifle touchy.”
    “Touchy corporate executives are my specialty,” Steve said. “But why should I do this for you? Even if this is true, you’d still make a dandy red herring.”
    Zambelli shook his head. “You can’t gain anything by dragging me into court. All you’ll do is prove that Greely was a blackmailer. The police know he’s a blackmailer, but they can’t prove it. So it’s to your client’s advantage to keep me out of it.”
    Steve thought that over. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll look into it. If this checks out, you’ve done me a favor.”
    Zambelli smiled broadly. “Sure,” he said. “What are friends for?”

24.
    M AXWELL B AXTER PACED HIS LIVING room like a caged