The Innocent Woman

on the ground floor. Find out who that is, whether he’s the guy was working there earlier tonight.”
    “What’s the name of the store?”
    “I didn’t notice.”
    “Makes it a bit harder,” Taylor said dryly. He snatched up the phone, punched in a number. “Mickey, it’s Mark. Consider yourself on the clock. There’s a music store on West 47th Street.” He cupped the receiver, turned to Steve. “What’s the address?”
    “Damned if I know. Tracy?”
    “Got it,” Tracy said. She whipped open her notebook, read the address to Mark Taylor, who relayed it over the phone.
    “Got that?” Taylor said. “I want to know the name of the shop, the name of the owner, and who was working there tonight.” He turned to Steve. “Anything else?”
    “Yeah. Find out where the guy is now.”
    “Can he know why we’re askin’?”
    “The less he knows the better. Just line him up.”
    “You got it,” Taylor said. He relayed the instructions and hung up the phone. “Okay,” he said. “Anything else?”
    “Yeah. Fletcher’s partner. Marvin Lowery. Get a line on him, find out where he was this evening. You don’t have to go back any further than five o’clock, because up till then he was in court.
    “Same thing with the detective—that’s Samuel Macklin. Only in his case, after he testified I don’t think he stuck around—he had no reason to. So you have to trace his movements from mid-afternoon. Find out if he went back to his agency, or home, or whatever.”
    “Will do,” Taylor said. He picked up the phone and started to dial. Another line on his phone rang. He pushed the button, took the call. “Yeah?” he snapped. Then, “No, no, wait a minute. Who are you calling?... Yeah, hang on.”
    Taylor looked up from the phone. “It’s her.”

18.
    A MY D EARBORN HAD BEEN crying.
    Steve Winslow didn’t need her red eyes to tell him that— he’d been able to tell on the phone. As he looked at her through the wire-mesh screen in the lockup, he felt sorry for her, sure. But he also felt angry and impatient. So it was all he could do to appear sympathetic and calm.
    “Tell me about it,” he said.
    Amy snuffled once. “It’s a mess.”
    “So I gather,” Steve said. “But you’d better define this mess, so I can start doing something about it.”
    “It’s not my fault,” Amy said.
    “I didn’t say it was.”
    “I can tell. From your tone.”
    “Forget my tone,” Steve said. “It’s been a long day. I need your story. I don’t want to drag it out of you. Pull yourself together and tell me the score.”
    He lip trembled. “They tricked me.”
    “Who tricked you?”
    “That cop.”
    “Sergeant Stams?”
    “I don’t know his name. He sat there with a blank look. He seemed so stupid.”
    “Yeah, that’s Stams. What happened?”
    “I told your story. Just like you said.”
    “Yeah. So?”
    “He seemed to be buying it. I had no idea anything was wrong.”
    “What was wrong?”
    “The drawer.”
    “What drawer?”
    “What drawer do you think? The petty cash drawer.”
    “What about it?”
    “It was shut.”
    “What?”
    “It was shut. The damn drawer was shut.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Me either. But that’s what happened.”
    “Wait a minute. Wait a minute,” Steve said. “Are you telling me that you told Stams you found the petty cash drawer open, and when you went to look at it, it was shut?”
    “That’s right.”
    “The cops didn’t close it?”
    “He said they didn’t.”
    “He said they didn’t?”
    “Yes.”
    Steve groaned. “Don’t tell me. You told Stams the drawer had been robbed. He showed you the drawer was shut and asked you what the hell you were talking about?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did you try to tell him?”
    “Well, I—”
    “Shit.”
    “Well, it was your bright idea,” Amy said. “Going back there. Pretending it was the first time. How was I to know someone had been there after me?”
    “You could have checked the desk.”
    “Why would I check the desk? Why would it even occur to me that drawer wouldn’t be open?”
    “Hell,” Steve said.
    “I’m sorry you’re taking it so hard,” Amy said, sarcastically. “I’m the one in jail.”
    “Right,” Steve said. “But you don’t have to do anything about it. I’m the one who has to get you out. So try to pull yourself together and give me the facts.”
    “I don’t know the facts.”
    “You know what you told the police, don’t you?”
    Amy said