“Yes, I did.”
“When was that?”
“That was at nine.”
“How can you be so sure.”
“It was closing time. I was out on the sidewalk, locking up. A man walked by and went in.”
“Can you describe him?” Steve said, casually.
“Sure. He was a hippie. You know. With long hair. I thought he was a customer. I mean, he looked like he should be playing a guitar, you know.”
“Did you notice anything besides the long hair?” Steve said.
“Not really. Like I said, I was locking up. I didn’t really notice the guy until he was going past me. Then I thought he was going to stop, but he didn’t. He kept going, went in the door.”
“So you really only saw him from the back?”
“Yeah, well maybe three quarters. Like I say, I expected him to turn, but he didn’t.”
“Did you notice his clothes?”
Branstein frowned. “Not particularly. The impression I got was nondescript hippie clothing. But the specifics?” He shrugged. “Hey, I could be just going by the hair.”
Steve nodded. “You think you’d know this man if you saw him again?”
“If I saw him again I might. Even though I can’t describe him, I got that impression, you know.”
“I see,” Steve said. “What about the woman?”
He spread his arms. “How could I possibly recognize her? I didn’t see her at all.”
“Right,” Steve said. He stood up. “Well, thanks for your help.”
“Well,” Branstein said. “What do you think?”
“What do you mean?”
“About the cops. You said you were going to advise me about the cops.”
“Yes, of course.”
“So whaddya think? Do I have tell the cops?”
Steve exhaled. He nodded grimly. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m afraid you do.”
21
“Let me tell you the facts of life.”
“You’re really pissed, aren’t you?”
“What gave you your first clue?”
Tracy blinked up at him, tried to see his eyes in the glow from the street light. They were on the corner just outside Branstein’s building.
“Steve,” she said.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here before the cops come.”
“You think they will?”
“Are you kidding? He’s calling them now. If he mentions my name, it’s jackpot time, and Stams himself may show up. I sure don’t want to be standing here if he does.”
He took Tracy by the arm and pulled her down the street. The action was rough, the grip tight, hurting her arm.
“Hey, hey,” Tracy said. “Take it easy. I’m coming.”
Steve released her arm and they walked along rapidly, not talking, till they reached Canal.
Steve stopped, turned around. “Okay,” he said. “I’m putting you in a cab. Before I do, I got something to say.”
“You’re upset I went over there?”
“No kidding.”
“It’s a judgment call. You weren’t there and it seemed the thing to do.”
“It wasn’t.”
“So I gather. You wanna beat me up, or you wanna tell me why?”
“You know why. You’re overboard on this one from the word go. You take the client up to the murder scene, leave a convenient fingerprint behind and whisk her out of there. Then when I’m running around trying to patch that one up, you rush out and call on a witness.”
“Because you weren’t available and I wanted to get to him before the cops did.”
“The cops weren’t
“Maybe so, but-”
“And look what you did,” Steve said. “Will you stop to consider what you did?”
“I know it’s a mess.”
“Do you?” Steve said. “Well, let me define it for you. This guy had no idea anything had gone on, and still wouldn’t if we hadn’t told him. He only remembers Amy going in there because we reminded him of it.”
“He can’t identify her.”
“So what,” Steve said. “Don’t you see the big bummer here? Don’t you see what we’ve done?” Steve paused, exhaled. “The guy closed his shop at nine. If Amy got there and called the cops at ten, why is this guy a witness at all? Obviously he isn’t. He’s peripheral. Clearly irrelevant and one of the
“So what happens? We think of him
“So what’s the upshot? The store owner’s not the witness anymore. Our client’s the witness. She had to have seen him earlier for us to have even known about him.”
“She
“Right. I did. Big fucking deal. Same difference. If I saw him, by extension I saw him because of something my client told me.”
“At least he didn’t recognize you.”
“Yeah, and look how I had to dress up to make sure he didn’t.”
“Even so, doesn’t that count for something if he tries to identify you later on?”
“Small victory and beside the point,” Steve said. “The point is, our client’s dead. We took a non-witness and made him a star. We don’t go there, even if the guy tells his story, it barely implicates Amy at all. Because there’s no connection. But now there is. Her attorney rushed out there to try to break down the identification. Before the cops even knew there was one. Conclusion? There must have been an identification to break down.”
Tracy’s eyes glistened. He lip trembled. “I was only trying to help.”
“No, you weren’t,” Steve said. “You know what you were doing? You were trying to play Della Street. It’s the books you read. Your head’s so full of murder mysteries, you think life is like that. You can’t run around contaminating murder scenes and holding out on the cops, pulling a fast one with the witnesses and all that. I got bad news for you. I’m not Perry Mason, and there doesn’t have to be a happy ending.
“And our client? For all we know she’s guilty, she’s going to take a fall, and she’s going to pull us down with her. I, for one, don’t really want to go.”
“That’s not fair,” Tracy said.
“Oh, isn’t it? I’ve done a lot of things tonight that I wouldn’t have done if it wasn’t your ass on the line. Sending her back there to find the body again. You think I’d have done that if you hadn’t whisked her out of there the first time?” Steve stopped, shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so hard on you. But it makes me crazy-thinking if I don’t cover this up, the cops are going to nail you.”
“They’re not gonna nail me.”
“Oh no? You left your fingerprints at the scene of the crime, and you rushed out to tamper with a witness.
