“Why?”
“To show his grandfather. That’s what he said he’d do. First thing the next morning. He said there was no way his grandfather would have let this thing happen. Not if he’d seen that memo. He said his grandfather was hard, ruthless, cutthroat, but fair. He would not frame an innocent man and he would not let it happen. I tell you, he was very upset.”
“Okay,” Steve said. “Say all this is true. If he believed you, your brother didn’t do it. If you believed him, he didn’t do it. So who could have done it? Who had access? Who did he think it could be?”
Kelly shook her head. “He wouldn’t say. But that’s just it. That’s why he was so upset. Not just that this had happened. Because of the implications.”
“What implications?”
“Like you said. Who had access? See, David’s immediate superior was his father, Stanley Castleton.”
“What?!” Steve said incredulously.
“That’s right. In charge of the division, being groomed to take over the company.”
“Why in hell would a man in that position risk something like that?”
“I don’t know, and I tell you, it’s nothing that David said. It’s just the impression I got. And would account for him being so upset. You asked me, so I told you.”
Steve rubbed his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Yeah. It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say. So you left him the disk?”
“Right.”
“And you left his apartment?”
“Yes.”
“What time?”
“Eleven-fifteen, eleven-thirty. Somewhere in there.”
“And you went straight home?” Steve said. He knew the answer, of course, but he didn’t want her to know he knew.
“That’s right. I went home, went to bed. Next thing I know, cops are knocking on the door.”
“And you never told David Castleton who you were?”
“No.”
“And you never told him your address?”
“No.”
“Or phone number?”
“No.”
“Or any way to get in touch with you?”
“No. I told him I’d get in touch with him.”
Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“How the cops got onto you so fast. Tell me something, you ever own a gun?”
“A gun? Why?”
“Why do you think? David Castleton was shot. With a thirty-two-caliber automatic. So tell me. You ever own a gun?”
“Of course not.”
“Ever borrow one?”
“No.”
“There was a gun found next to the body. Are you telling me there’s no way that gun could be traced to you?”
“Absolutely not. How could there be?”
“I don’t know. But it would explain how the cops got onto you.”
“I see that. But the answer is no. I’ve never had any connection with any gun. It had to be something else.”
“Yeah. Great. You sure you didn’t talk to the cops. Tell ’em anything?”
“Nothing. So what about it. Will you be my lawyer?”
Steve ran his hand over his head, sighed. “Yeah, I’m your lawyer. Tell me, where’s the other floppy disk? The original.”
“In my apartment.”
“How will I find it? Is it marked?”
“Yeah. It’s in a box of disks in my top dresser drawer. It’s marked with an X.”
“An X?”
“Yeah. In gold pen. There’s a special gold marker you can use to write on floppy disks. It shows up against the black. You can write right on the disk itself. I didn’t label the thing, I just marked it with an X. Right on the tab. You’ll see it riffling through the disks.”
“What about the other one? The one you left with David? Was that marked?”
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“X dash one.”
“In gold pen?”
“Right.”
“Then the cops should have found it. I’ll check on that.”
Steve took out a pen and pencil and slipped it through the wire mesh screen. “Here. Write out a note to your super, stating I’m your attorney and you’re authorizing me to get stuff out of your apartment.”
Kelly scribbled the note, pushed the pen and paper back through the screen.
“You’ll get the disk?” Kelly said.
“Yeah. I’ll get the disk.”
She looked at him with pleading eyes. “And then you’ll get me out of here?”
Steve sighed. “That may be a little harder.”
18
Steve dropped a quarter in the pay phone, called the office.
“Tracy, it’s Steve. Did Mark call?”
“I’ll say. Every two minutes. Did you take the case?”
“Yeah. She’s our client. What’s Mark want?”
“You, basically. He’s having a shit-fit. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him to hang in there, keep getting the dope, do nothing till he hears from me.”
“Should I tell him you took the case?”
“Sure.”
“You coming back to the office?”
“In a bit. I got something to do first.”
“Where you going?”
“Tell you later.”
Steve hung up the phone, stepped out in the street and hailed a cab. He paid it off a block from Kelly’s apartment, walked over and rang the super’s bell. He was in luck-the super was in. He was a skinny Hispanic with a moustache. He read Kelly’s note, then looked up at Steve Winslow with suspicious eyes.
“How I know she wrote this?”
“You don’t know her handwriting?”
“How should I?”
“Didn’t she ever leave you a note?”
