The Innocent Woman

asks him if he’s the Samuel Macklin just did a job for F.L. Jewelry. Macklin’s suspicious, wants to know why, my man says he heard he’d just got a raw deal in court. Macklin falls all over himself agreeing with that. Before you know it, he’s spilled his guts.”
    “Good work, Mark.”
    “Yeah, but what have you got? According to Macklin, he left right after court, didn’t go uptown with Fletcher and Lowery. Don’t jump to conclusions—he doesn’t know if they went uptown. He’s just saying he split from the court, doesn’t know where they went and doesn’t care. According to him, he went home, hot, tired and pissed off, changed, showered, put on sloppy clothes, then got some Chinese takeout and rented some video tapes.”
    “Any help there?”
    “Not a lot. The clerk in the video store knows him, thinks he was in around eight o’clock. Chinese restaurant doesn’t know him and doesn’t remember. Not that it would do any good, since it was right around the same time. Giving him plenty of time to have bumped Fletcher off for making him look like a fool in court. Though if that’s the motive, I don’t see why he’s not killing you.”
    “Thanks a lot.”
    “Then we got the boyfriend.”
    “Boyfriend or friend?”
    “He says he’s the boyfriend. I don’t know what she says, but according to him they’re an item. Anyway, he’d like to help but can’t. He had dinner with her, was supposed to go to the movies with her, something came up and he had to work. He left her at the restaurant, took a cab and went home.”
    “I thought he had to work.”
    “He works at home. An apartment on East 84th Street. Set up like an office. He had a client with a problem, so he agreed to meet him there. He left her right around seven-thirty, which will probably screw us when we get the autopsy report. For what it’s worth, he’s willing to shade the time.”
    Steve Winslow looked at him sharply. “Oh?”
    Taylor held up his hand. “Hey, don’t blame me. He volunteered it. Apparently, the guy’s really sold on her, willing to do anything to get her out of a jam.”
    “Did you encourage him in this manner?”
    “I didn’t do squat. In fact, I haven’t even talked to him, it was one of my men. But he’s home now, in case you want to talk to him.”
    “Sure do.”

26.
    L ARRY C UNNINGHAM WAS ON the phone when Steve and Tracy got there. He was a bookish looking young man with short brown hair and horn-rimmed glasses. He met them at the door with a phone glued to his ear. He ushered them into the living room at the same time he was advising a client on a stock transaction.
    It was actually more office than living room, dominated by a huge computer setup, boasting a printer, a modem, a fax machine, and other electronic equipment the purpose of which Steve and Tracy could only guess at.
    While they stood gawking, Larry Cunningham moved papers to unclutter chairs, and gestured to them to sit, never once missing a beat in his phone conversation. He finished his call, sat on the couch, and said, “Isn’t this awful.”
    “It is,” Steve said. “But it’s not the end of the world. An arrest is not a conviction. I’m sure Amy is innocent, and we’ll find a way to prove it.”
    “But in the meantime she’s in jail.”
    “It shouldn’t be long,” Steve said.
    “Oh? What are you doing about bail?”
    “I’m considering my options.”
    Cunningham frowned. “You are going to push for bail?”
    “Frankly, I’m not sure.”
    “Why wouldn’t you?”
    “In a case like this, there’s two ways to go. Either get the defendant out on bail and stall like crazy, or leave her in and push for a speedy trial.”
    “I want her out,” Cunningham said.
    “Of course you do. We all do. The question now is how best to achieve that.”
    Cunningham put up his hand. “No, no,” he said. “Don’t give me that. I don’t want to hear any theories. The point is, get her out, then figure out what to do. Don’t give me this I’m-not-going-to-make-any-move-until-I-know-what’s-best bullshit.”
    Steve took a breath. “All right, look,” he said. “Maybe I’m not your type. Maybe you’d like some guy in a three piece suit who’d make a big fight about a bail reduction. Well, it ain’t me, babe. It’s not how I operate. I assume Amy told you about the petty theft?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “There you are. We disposed of that in one day.”
    “She wasn’t in jail.”
    “No, she wasn’t. Murder