Whiplash

know what Schiffer Hartwin is doing?"
    Sherlock waited a bit, then said with deadly calm, "Caskie's involved big-time in this, Jane Ann. He's in deep trouble. The stolen documents will come to light very soon now, and everything will blow wide open, with Caskie in the center of it. After all, he's the one here at the U.S. Schiffer Hartwin headquarters. Germany's far away.
    "It's just a matter of time before he gets hauled off to jail or Schiffer Hartwin sends over someone to keep him quiet. Don't you know the murdered man, Helmut Blauvelt, was the main Schiffer Hartwin enforcer?"
    She saw the flash of knowledge in Jane Ann Royal's eyes, and for the first time, fear, but again, she shook her head. "No, I didn't know. This Blauvelt, you're saying he was here to shut Caskie up? But how on earth does that make any sense?"
    "No, you're right, it doesn't," Sherlock said, "for the simple reason that Caskie's papers hadn't yet been stolen. So, why, exactly, was Blauvelt here? Who was he here to see? To shut up? We don't know yet."
    Erin said, "What we do know is Schiffer Hartwin has to respond. As we speak, their lawyers are with your husband, trying to convince him to keep his mouth shut."
    Sherlock said, her voice hard as flint, "Do you think Caskie will keep quiet?"
    Jane Ann slowly shook her head. "I really don't know. Caskie's always been something of a maverick, plots his own course, sometimes contrary to what others in his company have laid out. He's always coming up with ideas no one else ever thought of. He's proud of that." She rubbed her fist over her eyes. Sherlock hoped she wouldn't dislodge the topaz contacts. "I had no idea about any of this."
    Sherlock said, "I really hope you're telling us the truth, Jane Ann, but I gotta tell you, I doubt it. Yesterday, all your husband did was lie, and it was really tiring. No, don't deny more, it just pisses me off. Now, you need to think hard about this. Tell me, where were you this past Sunday night, between ten p.m. and three a.m.?"
    Jane Ann Royal jumped to her feet, splayed her lovely tanned hands on the tabletop. She was visibly shaking. "You think I had something to do with that German's death? No, no way, not a chance."
    "Please tell us where you were," Sherlock said matter-of-factly, "or I will take you to the local police department, to that grungy conference room, and grill you in your tennis whites until your lovely tan fades."
    "This is ridiculous nonsense," but she sat down again. At last she looked scared. About time, Erin thought, and looked through her lashes at Sherlock. She was good, excellent in fact.
    Erin leaned toward Jane Ann. "Talk to us, Mrs. Royal. Believe me, these are powerful people."
    "Listen to me, both of you! I don't know anything! I was in bed two nights ago, watching a stupid movie on TV, then I went to sleep at maybe midnight."
    Erin said, "Since your husband wasn't with you, you really don't have an alibi, do you?"
    "You told me he was with Carla." She shook her head, diverted. "Poor bitch, to have to settle for him. She divorced a jerk and now she's sleeping with another one. Look, I don't have an alibi, but I wouldn't leave my kids alone, I wouldn't! And I never sleep with another man in my own house, not with my children here. Caskie probably would, he's simply never had the opportunity. At least as far as I know."
    Jane Ann Royal, whatever she knew, if there was indeed more, wasn't going to spill. Sherlock knew it. But they'd primed the pump well. Sherlock rose, Erin followed suit. She said, "We hope you have an excellent security system, Jane Ann. I strongly suggest you speak candidly to your husband about this. You might want to ask him how he plans to prevent his kids from getting hurt. He's up to his neck in alligators here. Encourage him to come clean with us, and we can help him. You might also want to give more thought to coming clean yourself. Good day."
    After a few steps, Sherlock turned back. "You might want to consider visiting your mom for a while, with your kids."
    Sherlock and Erin both nodded to Jane Ann Royal, who still sat at the wrought-iron white painted café table, the glass of iced tea in her hand. They walked around to the front of the house, just as the tennis instructor had done.
    They heard Jane Ann shout, "Alana! Come here, now!"
    "You really shook her," Erin said with a good deal of satisfaction. "She said so much, contradicted herself. To be honest, Sherlock, I couldn't tell the truth from the