NOW
“What is it with you, Sydney?” Andrew made no attempt to contain his anger. “Is it something medical? ADD maybe? Perhaps some sort of brain malfunction that makes you forget promises you’ve made? Or are you simply a person whose word can’t be trusted?”
It was nearly seven o’clock. Andrew had tried to hold off Sydney’s request that they meet right away.
“Cynthia’s battling monster nausea. Morning sickness in the evening,” he’d explained. “Poor thing. Part of the experience, I suppose. I wouldn’t feel right leaving her.” He’d suggested they meet first thing in the morning. But when Sydney told him she’d just left Phoebe Millerman’s and had two thumb drives to review, Andrew’s tone had instantly shifted. He’d meet her in twenty minutes, he’d told her. Sydney had been waiting for him in front of his building.
“You always ride your bike to work?” she asked as he pulled off his helmet.
“Any chance I get. It’s faster when traffic’s heavy.” His tone was tight with anger. “And it lets me blow off a bit of steam when things aren’t going well.”
There were still a few junior associates milling about at Andrew’s firm. She was grateful he waited until he closed his office door before unleashing his tirade.
“What is it about confidentiality you don’t understand?” he rasped. “I specifically told you not to discuss the possibility of a tape with anyone. My investigators are more than capable of finding it. That is, if it exists. I’m still trying to reconcile Windy’s maybe, possibly, it’s-all-so-foggy memory of not having killed the mayor.”
“I’m paying you to believe she didn’t.”
“You’re paying me to mount the best defense possible. I’m trying to do that. Why you keep sabotaging my efforts at every turn is beyond my comprehension.”
“I have these.” She handed him the thumb drives. “They were in Roger Millerman’s private safe.”
“And how exactly did you get these?”
Briefly she told him about her conversation with Phoebe.
Andrew slapped his right hand hard on the back of his leather chair. “Damn it, Sydney! Can’t you see what you’ve done?”
“I got the tapes! Your investigators wouldn’t have been able to get inside Millerman’s office without Phoebe. She trusts me. I was able to get it done.”
“What you were—are—is reckless. Careless. Clueless.” He pointed the storage drives at her. “These could hold recordings of Common Council meetings, for all we know. Or maybe the mayor was into cat videos. We have no idea what these are. However, we do know the dead man’s widow now knows our defense strategy. You don’t think she’s going to go straight to the police with that? Once again you’ve handed the prosecution a conviction on a silver platter! We had one shot at reasonable doubt. We needed to catch the prosecution unaware. I can hear the opening arguments now.” He shifted his pose as though addressing a courtroom. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you’ll hear the defense throw alternate suspects at you. One after another. Don’t confuse desperation with plausibility. The police have investigated these alternatives, and the conclusion that must be drawn is that only one person had access to the mayor that day. Only one person could have killed him. Wanda Fields!”
“Phoebe won’t do that!”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“Because no one who knows Windy could think she’d have it in her to kill anybody.”
“Would you have thought she’d allow herself to be pimped out? Or that she would pick up extra cash servicing the mayor when his wife wasn’t home? Don’t be naive, Sydney! People do all kinds of things folks who know us wouldn’t expect. It’s dangerous business to ride on trust. We’ll get surprised every time. Hell, I trusted you when you said you could keep this quiet. Look what that got me.”
Sydney had no rebuttal for his assessment. She had gone against her word. She’d acted impulsively and now she’d risked destroying Andrew’s entire defense. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t like her to be so impulsive, but her brain instantly shot down that rationalization. Hadn’t she impulsively decided to support Windy despite the solid case the police had? Rashly spent twenty thousand dollars on Andrew’s retainer? Several thousand more posting Windy’s bail? Hadn’t she recklessly given the medallion to Horst? She had even acted in brazen disregard of all her employees when she placed Windy in her kitchen, running the risk of jeopardizing the entire restaurant if people decided they didn’t like her support of the mayor’s killer.
“Let’s see what’s on the drives before you condemn me.”
Andrew stopped pacing his office long enough to give her a long, disgusted glare. “You have Phoebe Millerman’s permission to be in possession of these? She knows you intend to look at them?”
Sydney thought back to earlier in the evening. When she had left, Phoebe had been distraught over her discovery that her husband had been planning on leaving her. Had she specifically given Sydney permission to take the tapes? She’d certainly allowed Sydney to go through the safe. Of that Sydney was certain. And she knew about Brooks Janeworthy. Phoebe might have been vocal about her doubts, but there could be no question she knew Sydney and Andrew were looking for the tape Windy thought had been made of their encounter.
“I showed her the drives. I told her I wanted to see what they held. I even asked if I could use the mayor’s computer, but there wasn’t one.”
Andrew was quiet as he weighed the legalities. “Barring any will that might say something contrary, we can assume any property the mayor left behind will be inherited by his wife. These tapes are technically hers. Think hard. Did she give you permission to view them?”
Sydney tried to re-create her last few moments with Phoebe. “I told her I was taking them. I thanked her for her help. I asked her if there was anything she needed. She was so upset…”
“About what?”
Sydney told him about the red file with Phoebe’s name on it. “It was a listing of property. Marital property, I assume. Two columns. One for what he wanted, the other for what he proposed to give her. He had a time line, too. A contact list of four divorce attorneys. An outline of his reasons. Phoebe said it was just like him. She said he always sketched out his thoughts before giving a speech of any consequence. There was no other conclusion for her to come to than that the mayor was planning on leaving her. And from the looks of things, he planned on telling her very soon.”
Andrew’s face flushed crimson. He ran a hand through his thick hair. “Do you have that file?”
“No. Phoebe was holding it when I left.”
“The reasons the mayor gave? For divorcing her. What were they?”
“What you’d expect. They’d grown apart. Their interests weren’t the same. He no longer found her attractive.”
“No mention of someone else? A lover maybe?”
Sydney shook her head. “Would that matter?”
“Everything matters.” He resumed his pacing. But this time his movements seemed less driven by anger than by possibility. “The night the mayor was killed. You told me Phoebe was at your restaurant.”
“She was. She waited several hours for Roger.”
“And you sent her home in a cab? After she made a scene?”
“This again?”
“Yes, Sydney. This again. Only now we have a concrete motive. Phoebe devoted her life to her husband’s career. Suddenly she learns he’s dumping her. Stripping her of her first lady title. Leaving her with a diminished social status. At her age. Women have killed for far less.”
“This evening was the first Phoebe learned about her husband’s plans. I’m sure of it.”
He stopped and leveled a condescending stare. “Another one of your hunches, Sydney?”
“Phoebe didn’t murder her husband.”
“And I’ll say again it doesn’t matter whether she did or not. Phoebe had access to every inch of that house. She knew the mayor’s schedule. She had her alibi set up by being at Hush Money’s opening. The only snag was Windy walking in.”
“So you believe Windy now? That she just happened to arrive moments after the mayor was shot?”
“It’s not important what I believe. It’s what I can sell to a jury. Phoebe shoots her husband, gets surprised by Windy, knocks her out cold, and heads over to Hush Money. It’s simple. It’s logical. And every juror on the panel will be stunned to think the police failed to investigate the surviving spouse. Especially when they find out he was planning on dumping her.”
She could tell he was warming up to the idea.
“More importantly,” he added, “Phoebe Millerman will not betray this strategy to the police. I could even make the case she wanted you to pursue Brooks Janeworthy. Maybe she knew the tapes existed and wanted to toss you a bouncing ball to chase. Let the prosecution prepare for Janeworthy. We’ll spring Phoebe on the jury and still maintain our element of surprise.”
“Phoebe didn’t kill the mayor.”
“You can say that as many times as you’d like, but it’s not going to change things.” He took a deep breath and gave her his first smile of the evening. “I was harsh on you earlier. Rightly so. However, in the end I think things turned out better than we could have hoped.”
“Does that mean you don’t want to see what’s on the drives?”
“Pet videos? Pictures from the mayor’s last trade mission? What does it matter?”
“You’re not interested in who murdered the mayor?”
He must have seen the disappointment on her face. He glanced at his watch and sighed. “What the hell.” He went to his desk and powered on his computer. “Cynthia’s probably resting. Let’s have a quick look.” He held up the two drives. “Which first?”
She pointed to the gray. Andrew inserted the drive and clicked it open. Within twenty seconds a scene unfolded that left no doubt Windy had been telling the truth about her encounter with Brooks Janeworthy. She looked so vulnerable. So desperate. Janeworthy, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying his rough-handed use of the young woman.
“Enough.” Sydney turned away from the screen. “I don’t need to see any more.”
Andrew appeared genuinely shaken by what he had just viewed. His jaw was set in firm determination as he pulled the gray thumb drive from its port and replaced it with the white.
“The mayor was a bastard,” he spit. “I don’t care what he’s done for this city. Nothing earns anyone a pass for that kind of disgusting privilege.”
He tapped the second drive open. They watched as another scene came into view. An office. Sydney didn’t recognize the two men, but she immediately identified the woman.
“Can you turn up the audio?” she asked.
Andrew manipulated the mouse, and the conversation between the three parties on the screen was amplified.
“No,” Sydney whispered.
“My God.” This time it was Andrew who couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
Nearly twenty minutes later the scene ended. Neither of them moved. After moments of stunned silence, Andrew was the first to find his voice.
“That’s a motive for killing if ever I saw one.”
“What do we do?” Sydney asked. “This is big. Maybe the biggest thing ever.”
Andrew pulled the thumb drive from the computer. He took both devices and placed them in a locked desk drawer. “What are your plans tonight?” His gaze held as much threat as it did determination.
“I’m going to check in at Hush Money and the Ten-Ten. I’m meeting Ronnie, my best friend, at her place for a glass of wine.”
“You’re not going to the Ten-Ten tonight.” His tone left no room for negotiation. “I can’t risk you getting another wild hair and discussing what we’ve discovered. And you’re not going by Dr. Pernod’s, either. It’s imperative no one knows we’re in possession of this evidence until I outline the best way to deal with it. Do you hear me?”
Sydney nodded.
“I’ll make some calls. People I trust. I’ll speak in hypotheticals and get their input. In the meantime, I don’t trust you to keep this under wraps. I’m half tempted to bring you home with me and lock you in our guest room. If you truly want to do what’s best for everybody, you’ll go home, hide your phone, and stay put until I call you.”
“I’ve apologized, Andrew,” Sydney protested. “I understand the gravity of this situation. But please remember, you work for me. I won’t stand for you treating me like a child.”
“Then show me you have an adult’s restraint. Go home. Take a night off. Say nothing. Nothing. Do you understand me?”
She nodded again, too angry to challenge his disrespect, ashamed that her own actions had inspired his distrust.
Andrew pointed toward the locked desk drawer. “Loose talk? About this? This is the stuff that gets people killed. Do you understand that?”
Sydney held his gaze. She reached for her phone and punched 2 on speed dial while keeping her eyes on Andrew.
“Ronnie?” she said when her best friend answered. “Listen, I’m not going to make it tonight. Something’s come up. Can I get a raincheck?” She assured her she was neither ill nor blowing her off to meet Clay. She hung up after promising to call the next day to set up another time for them to meet.
When Andrew walked her to the door in silence, Sydney had the distinct impression she was being dismissed.