The Innocent Woman

said. “You only got me because you happened to know the times of those movies.”
    “Are you kidding?” Steve said. “I have no idea what’s playing at the Olympia. Or when. But, obviously, neither do you. From which I gather going to the movies is not a big priority in your life. I would say more than likely, after dinner you were planning on maneuvering Amy back to her apartment and trying to get her in the sack.”
    Cunningham came up from the couch, fists raised. “Son of a bitch!” he said.
    Steve never blinked. “Oh, spare me,” he said. “I’m just giving you a taste of what you’re in for on the stand. If the D.A. starts making insinuations, you’d better work on keeping your cool.
    “Anyway, I hope I made my point. You can get a paper and find out when those movies started and patch up your story and the whole bit. But it doesn’t matter. Because if you’re telling a lie, you’re telling a lie. And there’s gonna be holes. Just because you patch that one, doesn’t mean the D.A. isn’t going to find another. So get it out of your head.”
    The phone rang. Cunningham stood glaring at Steve Winslow for a moment, then walked over and picked it up. “Hello.” He listen for a moment, then turned, said, “It’s for you.”
    Steve walked over, took the phone. “What’s up, Mark?”
    “How did you know it was me?”
    “Some detective. You’re the only one knows I’m here. What’s up?”
    “My source finally called. Got the word on the warrant.”
    “You find out what they got?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What?”
    “Tape recording.”
    “Tape recording?”
    “Yeah. The micro-cassette from her answering machine.”
    “You mean her messages?”
    “Right.”
    “Oh, shit. How bad is it?”
    “The worst,” Taylor said. “It’s a message from Frank Fletcher, asking her to meet him at the office.”

27.
    “W E HAVE A SMALL communication problem.”
    Amy Dearborn looked at Steve Winslow through the wire mesh screen. “Oh?”
    “I’ve been talking to your boyfriend. Larry Cunningham.”
    “He’s not my boyfriend.”
    “He seems to think he is.”
    “Larry takes a lot for granted.”
    “Yeah, he does,” Steve said. “Can’t seem to talk him out of lying for you.”
    “Lying?”
    “You left the restaurant right around seven-thirty, right?”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s what you told the cops?”
    “Yes, it was.”
    “Larry’d like to say it was eight. That’s a lie. I know it’s a lie. You know it’s a lie. Larry knows it’s a lie. Everyone in the whole fucking courtroom will know it’s a lie. In case he should come to visit, you might point out that’s a poor idea.”
    “I see.”
    “Anyway, the guy’s so eager to lie it’s kind of hard to find out what really happened. I was hoping you could fill me in.”
    “About what?”
    “My Dinner With Larry. I’d appreciate any details you’ve got.”
    “Like what? Just ask questions, will you, I’m too upset to think.”
    “Okay. What restaurant were you at?”
    “The Abbey Pub. It’s on a hundred and fifth near Broadway. It’s a bar and restaurant. I eat there now and then.”
    “And you went there with Larry Cunningham?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Pick you up at your apartment?”
    “Yes. Why?”
    “I’m trying to get the facts straight. What time did he pick you up?”
    “Around six-thirty.”
    “Take you long to get to the Abbey Pub?”
    “No. It’s only a couple of blocks.”
    “You went in and ate dinner?”
    “That’s right.”
    “You have cocktails first?”
    “He had a martini. I had a glass of wine.”
    “At the bar?”
    “No. We sat in a booth, got menus and ordered a drink. It a fairly simple menu. Good burgers, a few basic dinner entrees and then they have specials.”
    “What did you have?”
    “Salmon. That was one of the specials. Salmon steak.”
    “What about Mr. Cunningham?”
    “He had the shepherd’s pie. That’s a special too.”
    “Did you have appetizers?”
    “No.”
    “Salad and bread?”
    “Sure.”
    “Before the main course?”
    “Of course.”
    “What about dessert?”
    She shook her head. “No dessert. We had coffee, though.”
    “You were going to the movies?”
    “That’s right.”
    “What movie were you going to see?”
    “Some romantic comedy. I don’t remember which.”
    “That’s not good.”
    “Well, they all sound alike.”
    “It was playing at the Olympia?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Uh huh. What time did it start?”
    “Eight