“There you are,” Dutton said softly. “It’s all right now. It’s all right.”
Sheila blinked and looked around. For a moment she was all right. Then her lip contorted, and the tears came again.
Dutton put his other arm around her and hugged her to him. “Easy,” he said. “Just take it easy.”
She lay on his chest for a few seconds, then twisted away and sat up.
“No,” she said. “I’m all right. I’m all right.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “It’s just hard to believe.”
“Easy now,” Dutton said.
“It’s just I’ve known Uncle Teddy all my life. To think he killed my mo-” She broke off, crying again.
Dutton put his arm around her again, but she pushed it away.
“No,” she said. “No, I’m not going to cry. I’m all right.” She turned to Steve. “I have to know. Uncle Teddy really framed me for the murder?”
Steve nodded. “Yes. The story you told Phillip scared him to death. He knew if you told Uncle Max, Max would suspect what had happened. He had to get you out of the way.”
“But Phillip knew too,” Dutton said. “How was he going to silence him?”
“He didn’t have to. Phillip was away at college most of the time, anyway. And Phillip, the diligent student, would never have repeated a conversation of that sort to his straight-laced old uncle. On the other hand, it was just the sort of thing Sheila would love to throw in Max’s face.”
“And I did,” Sheila said miserably. “Poor Uncle Max. I guess he meant well. But he wanted me to fire you. And now you got me off.”
“I didn’t get you off,” Steve said. “Uncle Max got you off. If the case had gone to the jury, you would have been convicted. That would have happened if Uncle Max hadn’t figured it out.”
Sheila looked up at him. Distracted as she was, she was still sensitive enough to pick up on what he had just said, and it puzzled her. “Why are you running yourself down? You figured it out too.”
“Uncle Max figured it out from what you told him. I figured it out from his reaction to what you told him. What you told me he did. Jumping up and running out. That wasn’t a shocked and embarrassed reaction. That was the reaction of someone who’s had a revelation, who’s just realized something. And as soon as I realized that, I knew what the revelation had to be. Even then, I was too late. If he hadn’t had to go home to pick up his gun, I never would have caught up with him.”
“He was still alive when you got there?”
“Yes.”
“Did he say anything?”
Steve sighed and looked her in the eye. “Just that he was glad that Teddy was dead. He couldn’t forgive him for what he did to you and your mother.”
Sheila looked away. Tears came to her eyes again. “Poor Uncle Max. I guess in his own way he really loved me.”
“Yeah. I guess he did.”
She lowered her head and looked at the table. She was trying hard not to cry.
Dutton took the opportunity to change the subject. “What’s going to happen to me now?”
“What do you mean?”
“About refusing to answer questions.”
“You have your own lawyer.”
“Yeah,” Dutton said dryly. “We discussed him earlier.”
Steve sighed. “You were within your legal rights not to answer questions. Now that there’s no trial, they can’t ask you any more questions. They could still charge you with something if they could figure out which law you broke. But who’s gonna tell ’em?”
Sheila had recovered during this. She looked up at Steve. “So what will you do now?” she asked. “Go back to a normal law practice?”
Steve chuckled mirthlessly. “I have no law practice. And after this case, who would hire me? I do have two nice pieces of work ahead of me, however. Winding up your trust and probating Uncle Max’s will.” He smiled then, and tried bantering with her a little. “Unless you’d prefer to hire some other lawyer in whom you’d have more confidence.”
He’d judged right. She smiled back. “The job is yours.”
They held each other’s eyes for a few moments.
John Dutton saw this and didn’t like it. He was supposed to be the one who had that special understanding, who shared those special knowing looks.
To break the mood, he played his trump card. He reached in his pocket and took out a small plastic packet and a straw.
Steve saw this and sighed.
Sheila turned and realized what Johnny was doing. To her surprise, she was embarrassed. In front of Steve Winslow, for Christ’s sake. She felt angry and defensive. “Put that away,” she snapped. Then, “I’m sorry, Johnny, but, Jesus, now of all times.” She shook her head. “I can’t handle that now. I’ve got to get off that shit, you know?”
Dutton knew. He looked as if he’d been slapped. As if all his powers had suddenly been stripped away.
Steve watched with satisfaction. “Well,” he said. “I’m sure you kids have a lot to talk over, so I’ll be pushing off.”
He got up and walked to the door. He turned back in the doorway. Sheila was looking after him and their eyes met. Just for a moment he thought he caught a wistful look. He smiled and nodded, and she smiled back.
Steve went out the front door of Sheila Benton’s building and headed for Broadway, to catch the subway home. He felt surprisingly good. All right, so he didn’t have a law practice. But he’d had a case. A real case. And he’d gotten his client off. So what if nobody knew it? He knew it. And it felt damn good.
He walked by a newsstand. The New York Post had gotten out an extra. “B AXTER S HOT D EAD! — B ENTON F REED!” ran the headline. A smaller-print headline underneath ran: “D.A. C RACKS G REELY C ASE!” Underneath were a glamour shot of Sheila Benton, and a stock head-shot of Maxwell Baxter. An inset photo showed a grinning Harry Dirkson and Lieutenant Farron issuing a joint statement to the press.
Steve didn’t buy the paper. He just smiled and walked off down the street toward the subway.
