The Innocent Woman

found the body?”
    “That’s right.”
    “How much were you accused of taking?”
    “One hundred dollars.”
    “Mr. Fletcher complained to the police?”
    “It wasn’t just Mr. Fletcher. The partners made the complaint.”
    “But the fact is, this was reported to the police.”
    “Yes.”
    “A month ago when you were fired?”
    “That’s right.”
    “What’s this have to do with why you happened to come here tonight?”
    “I’d been arrested and charged with the crime. I didn’t think I should come here till the matter was resolved.”
    “I take it the matter was resolved?”
    “That’s right.”
    “When did that happen?”
    “Just this afternoon.”
    “Oh?”
    “That’s the whole point I was making. This afternoon a jury found me innocent of all charges. So I figured it didn’t matter anymore.”
    “You were tried for theft?”
    “That’s right.”
    “The charge brought up by the dead man there?”
    “You keep saying that. It was him and his partner. Not him in particular.”
    “I understand. But he was one of the parties to the charge?”
    “Yes.”
    “The case went to the jury and they found you innocent?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Who was your attorney in this matter?”
    “A Mr. Steve Winslow.”
    Once again it seemed to Amy as if there were some expression behind the cop’s eyes. But he merely said, “And he got you off?”
    “Yes.”
    “How long was the trial?”
    “Just today.”
    “Including jury selection?”
    “That’s right.”
    “That’s a long day. It must have been quite late in the afternoon when you got the verdict.”
    “Yes. It was close to five.”
    “And where did you go then?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You were downtown at the courthouse at five o’clock. I’d like to trace your movements from then until now.”
    “Why?”
    “Just routine.”
    “I walked down to subway, took the subway home to my apartment.”
    “Which is where?”
    “A hundred and seventh and Broadway.”
    “What did you do then?”
    “I had a dinner engagement. I changed my clothes and went out.”
    “Where?”
    “A restaurant in the neighborhood.”
    “Who were you dining with?”
    “Does that matter?”
    “Anything that confirms your story helps.”
    “It’s not a story.”
    The cop held up his hand. “That’s a figure of speech. In a murder case, we always ask the witness for corroboration. It’s standard procedure for me to ask. Is there any reason you wouldn’t want to answer?”
    “No.”
    “Then do yourself a favor. We’ll get through this a lot faster if you just answer my questions instead of trying to figure out why I’m asking. Now, who’d you have dinner with?”
    “Larry Cunningham.”
    “And who is Larry Cunningham?”
    “A friend.”
    “Boyfriend?”
    Amy straightened slightly, cocked her head. “Is that one of those questions I shouldn’t try to figure out why you’re asking?”
    “Anyway, you went out to dinner with Mr. Cunningham?”
    “That’s right.”
    “What time was that?”
    “Around six-thirty.”
    “Isn’t that rather early?”
    “For a weekday night? No. We often went out that early.”
    “Often?”
    “We’ve had dinner before. Is that what you’re investigating?”
    “No. And how long were you at dinner?”
    “Until about seven-thirty.”
    “Where did you go then?”
    “I went home.”
    “Did Mr. Cunningham take you home?”
    “Actually, he didn’t. He had work to do and took a cab home from the restaurant.”
    “A cab?”
    “Yes. He lives on the east side. I live two blocks away.”
    “I see. So he left you at seven-thirty and you walked home?”
    “That’s right.”
    “And what did you do then?”
    “Well, I had nothing planned. He and I had talked of going to the movies, but it turned out he had to work.”
    “What does he do?”
    “He’s an investment counselor.”
    “Is that like a stock broker?”
    “Somewhat. Only more complicated.”
    “Uh huh. Anyway, the fact is you didn’t go to the movies?”
    “No. So I had nothing to do. And I’d been wanting to clean out my desk for some time. So it occurred to me now I could.”
    “I see. So you did?”
    “Yes.”
    “When?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Well, this was around seven-thirty. But you didn’t get here till around ten. What did you do in the meantime?”
    Amy hesitated. This seemed like the cop’s first attempt to trip her up. She wondered if she should call Steve Winslow.
    “Oh, nothing much. Just puttered