“Okay,” he said, backing off. “Can’t blame a man for trying. But, bo, you got any new magazines or what? I already read these dogs. And you could use something with a little spice. Maxim, maybe. I hear all the best law firms, they subscribe to Maxim.”

“You read it just for the articles, I suppose.”

“They got articles? By the way, if you want, I’m available for lunch.”

“That’s an upset,” said Ellie.

“Derek likes them sassy,” said Derek.

“Ellie, can you get me Detective McDeiss on the phone without telling the secretary who wants to talk to him?”

“Of course.”

“If she needs a name, tell him it’s Prentice from the mortuary. And if Derek keeps hitting on you, you have my permission to staple his hand to your desk.”

“That’s cold, bo,” said Derek. “After what I done for you last night.”

“Next time you visit my apartment, Derek, knock,” I said as I passed Ellie and slipped into my office.

I went through the messages quickly, the usual crap, clients calling to complain about their cases, prosecutors calling to complain about my filings, copier salesmen trying to sell me copiers. Yeah, yeah, yeah. And then there was a message that pushed a shiver down my spine: “Mr. Trocek called, said he had a funny story for you.” Believe me when I tell you that was one funny story I did not want to hear.

“Detective McDeiss on line two, Mr. Carl,” said Ellie, standing now in my office door.

“Thank you,” I said. “And if Mr. Trocek calls again, tell him I’m out of town.”

“When will you be back?”

“Thanksgiving,” I said as I picked up the phone and pressed the blinking button.

“Did you hear about the fire?” I said to McDeiss.

“The one at Barnabas’s place?” he said.

“You know Barnabas?”

“Best goat north of Kingston. I suspected that his place was what you were talking about when you brought up the alibi. Then, when I heard about the fire last night, I figured the alibi and the fire might be linked.”

“Linked absolutely,” I said. “It was Sims who burned the place down while he was looking for the alibi witness.”

“You sure?”

“I got word firsthand. Not that Sims has much of a chance to find him anymore.”

“The witness ran?”

“He’s as good as gone.”

“How’d Sims know where to look for him?”

“I might have told him enough for him to figure out,” I said. “He wanted me to put pressure on Julia, I wanted him to back off, so I followed your advice and gave him what I had. It didn’t quite work out the way I had hoped. But I should have known better than to give Sims anything. As the old saying goes, the stupid fish should just keep his damn mouth shut. Do you have any idea what Sims is after?”

“A killer?” said McDeiss.

“Yeah, sure, and all we need is love. He’s got something else on his mind that he’s not spilling yet. But either way, what he did last night was strange. Why would he make so much noise looking for a witness that he ended up chasing him off?”

“Maybe he wanted to chase him.”

“Why?”

“To get rid of a lie that was threatening to gum up his case.”

“A lie?”

“The alibi wasn’t any good, Victor. It wouldn’t have held up. You said she was in North Philly buying drugs. But the toxicology reports blow that out of the water. The victim was clean, no drugs in the system, no sign of needle marks. And your old girlfriend was clean, too.”

“Oh.”

“If she was buying drugs, who were they for?”

“Damn good question,” I said.

24

“So how much do I owe you?” I said to Derek as we walked together down the steps toward the front door of my building.

“More than you know,” he said. “I did a lot of talking to save your neck. Told everyone we can’t be getting rid of lawyers who actually know how to win. Even told them that you’d do your thing on their behalf.”

“No thanks.”

“They come knocking, you best hitch up your pants and get to working. You don’t know how close both of us came last night.”

“I think I do, but I’m asking how much money I owe you for your detective work.”

“Is that what I was doing, taking you down to Barnabas’s place?”

“Sure. Every lawyer needs a PI, and for that night at least, you were mine. We agreed on twenty an hour, I believe.”

“We did, for truth, yes, but that was before I learned that I would be working as an official private detective. Got to raise my rates for that, don’t you think?”

“You have a license?”

“What do you mean, license?”

“Then no.” I pushed open the door on the ground floor and headed south, toward my bank on Walnut Street. Derek followed on my flank.

“Dangerous work, detecting,” he said. “No telling what kind of trouble you can find yourself in. People always putting guns in your face.”

“Anyone put a gun in your face?” I said.

“Not yet, but the way you making enemies by the fistful, it bound to happen if we continue working together.”

“Not much chance of that.”

“I figure what you get per hour should be the starting point. How much you get?”

“What I get, as a trained and experienced criminal defense attorney, trained and experienced enough to keep your butt out of jail, isn’t relevant. I have to maintain an office, I have to pay Ellie, I have a lot of expenses just staying licensed.”

“And I got to keep my wardrobe up.”

“Twenty an hour is what we agreed on.”

“Fifty.”

“Should we turn around and go back?”

“Twenty-five, then.”

“Because you were actually pretty helpful, and because you stuck your neck out for me, and because your doing that put your neck on the line, I’ll go up to twenty-five. But that’s it.”

“All right, now we’re getting somewhere. Let’s see, we got three and a half hours the one night and then two more last night.”

“I didn’t hire you for last night.”

“All part of it. And I don’t do partial hours. You get a piece, you pay for it all, like a plumber. I did a lot of stuff you didn’t see.”

“And I’m glad of that. All right. Twenty-five times six is one-fifty.”

“Plus expenses.”

“I paid for the drinks and the goat.”

“Bo.”

“How much?”

“Another forty.”

“What for?”

“Incidentals.”

“You got receipts?”

“Do I look like the kind of man that’s always asking for receipts? Got to keep up a reputation, you want to do effective detection. You should know that.”

“Okay, forty for expenses, just so long as you agree to one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t say another word, please. Just keep your mouth shut. Now, there’s the ATM right across the street. Stay here. I’ll go over and get the cash.”

“Maybe I’ll come along.”

“Maybe you won’t. I don’t need you looking over my shoulder and stealing my code.”

“You don’t trust me. That hurts.”

“And then, before you get the cash, we’re going to fill out some tax forms.”

“Come again?”

“A Form 1099.”

“What say?”

“Derek, it’s called a job. You get money for work, I file documents, I get a deduction, you pay taxes. Those are the rules.”

“That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Wait here,” I said.

“I’m not paying no taxes,” he called out after me.

“Say it a little louder, maybe the government cameras didn’t catch it the first time.”

I left him scanning the light posts for spy equipment as I crossed the street and headed to the ATM on the side of my bank.

Usually there wasn’t enough money in my account to withdraw all I pleased, but lately, because of a questionable retainer I had been accepting as part of a case that most likely would never require my services, my account was flush. It was how I had redone my office, paid my secretary, bought my new pleather couch and flat-screen television, how I had paid the cable bill. I wasn’t wealthy by any means, and my lack of wealth still rankled like a thorn in the eye, but for a few more months at least I could pass for a modicum of success, and a modicum was about as high as I could ever hope for anymore. No longer was I worried that the little insufficient funds message would pop up on the screen. Now I put in my card and tapped in my PIN and asked for a few hundred dollars and heard the sweet grinding of the gears as the crisp twenties were dealt out one after another after another.