Flynn spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders. 'I have no idea, Detective.'
Billie told Flynn the date and time of the call.
'Were you in the office when he phoned?' she asked.
'I can't say for certain.'
'Fifteen minutes is a long time, Mr. Flynn. Mr. Arnold must have been talking to somebody.'
'Maybe I was on another line and he held for a while, then hung up. I frequently have phone conferences that last an hour or more. I'm involved in cases all over the country. I'm even representing some of the families from that air crash in India.'
'Would your staff be able to help? Maybe they remember the call.'
'I'll ask, but I'm assuming this would have been several weeks ago, right?'
'Your billing records would show what you were doing when Mr. Arnold called, wouldn't they?'
'They might.'
'Will you ask your secretary to make a copy of them for me?'
'I'm afraid I can't do that. It would violate client confidentiality.' Flynn smiled. 'There's that word again.'
Brewster studied Flynn. He seemed to be getting a second wind.
'Can you think of any reason why Gene Arnold would be in Portland?'
'No.'
'You represented Paul McCann, didn't you, the man accused of killing Patty Alvarez?'
'Yes.'
'And you know about the murder of Mr. Arnold's wife.'
'I wasn't involved in that case,' Flynn answered, shifting uneasily in his chair.
'Could Mr. Arnold's visit have had anything to do with the death of his wife and Martin Alvarez's wife?' Billie asked.
Flynn looked very uncomfortable. 'I can't think of how it could.'
Billie waited a moment, watching Flynn closely. 'Well,' she said as she stood up, 'I guess that does it. Thank you for your time.'
Flynn stood, too. 'If there's anything I can do . . .'
Billie handed Flynn her card. 'The time sheets for the day Mr. Arnold called. Why don't you think about letting me see them.'
As soon as the door closed behind Billie Brewster, Aaron Flynn told his secretary to hold his calls. Then he dialed a number he knew almost as well as his own. A moment later the call went through.
'We got a serious problem,' Flynn said, speaking urgently into the phone. 'A very serious problem.'
Chapter Forty-Two.
One wall of Geller Pharmaceuticals' conference room was glass and provided a view of the atrium with its indoor waterfall, but no one in the room was looking at the view. Their attention was focused on J. B. Reed, who had just entered with Brock Newbauer and Susan Webster in tow. At six five and almost three hundred pounds, Reed, Briggs's most powerful partner was used to being the center of attention.
Isaac Geller crossed the conference room and grasped Reed's hand.
'Thank you for coming, John,' Geller said. 'How are you holding up?'
'It's been hard, Isaac,' Reed answered, shaking his head sadly. 'Art and I were more than law partners.'
'I know.'
'We go back to high school. We founded the firm.'
'We're all still in shock,' Geller said.
Reed's features hardened into a look of rocklike determination.
'I'm stepping in, Isaac. That's why I'm here, to let you know that I'm making these lawsuits my number-one priority.'
'And none too soon, either,' interjected Byron McFall, Geller's president, as the lawyers took their seats at the conference table. 'Kaidanov's murder couldn't have happened at a worse time.'
McFall's callousness made Geller flinch, but no one noticed. Their eyes were on Reed.
'How is this going to affect our position?' McFall asked.
'I've been briefed about the case by Brock and Susan,' Reed replied, 'but I don't have enough of a handle on the facts yet to give you an intelligent answer. Susan?'
All eyes turned toward Susan Webster, the elegant associate who had taken the seat next to Reed.
'Sergey Kaidanov's murder is a public relations nightmare, Mr. McFall. I pulled up several stories on the Kaidanov killing on the Internet. It's front-page news all over the country. The press is hinting that Geller Pharmaceuticals is behind the destruction of the lab and Kaidanov's death because the company wants to cover up his study. There's pressure on the district attorney to start an investigation. Not surprisingly, Aaron Flynn is talking to every reporter he can find. If he brings this case to trial we'll never find twelve jurors who haven't heard the rumors.'
Isaac Geller closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked exhausted.
'What do you suggest we do?'
Susan looked at Reed. 'Maybe I should wait for Mr. Reed to get up to speed on the case before offering any advice.'
'That's okay,' Reed prompted. 'I want to hear where you think we are in the case.'
'I'd start discussing a settlement, Mr. Geller,' Susan said reluctantly. 'It could be a bloodbath if we go to trial.'
'Goddamn it!' Byron McFall said bitterly. 'We had nothing to do with that lab or the study or Kaidanov's murder.'
'That may be irrelevant if everyone believes that we did,' Susan said evenly. 'We should approach Mr. Flynn with a reasonable offer. There are good arguments for admissibility and exclusion of the evidence of the murders, the study, and the destruction of the lab. Right now neither side knows what Judge Norris will let in at trial. This is the best time to feel out Flynn. If Norris rules in his favor he'll want to try every case, and once he wins one of them we won't be able to hold back the flood.'
Geller's in-house counsel made a comment just as Susan's cell phone rang. Newbauer, who was seated to Susan's left, watched her answer it and noted her surprise. She walked to the far end of the conference room, away from the others, and continued her conversation in a voice too low to hear. She seemed concerned when she returned to the conference table.
'Anything wrong?' Newbauer asked.
'No,' Webster answered unconvincingly.
Kate Ross split her attention between The New York Times crossword puzzle and the exit to Aaron Flynn's garage. An hour after she'd seen Billie Brewster leave Flynn's building, Flynn's car appeared. Kate put down the paper and followed him across town to the Sunset Highway entrance. It was almost 6:30 and the traffic had thinned out. Kate stayed several car lengths back as Flynn headed toward the coast. After half an hour, the lawyer left the highway and took a route that wound through farm country. Ten minutes later he pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Midway Cafe, a run-down roadhouse with a neon sign that advertised beer and fried chicken. It was the type of place where truckers and farmers stopped for coffee and pie, and high-priced lawyers rarely entered.
Kate drove by the restaurant then made a U-turn and parked at the far end of the lot just as Flynn was walking inside. Moments later another car pulled into a parking space near the door and Susan Webster got out.
'Bingo,' Kate said to herself. She thought about following Susan inside, but the restaurant was too small. Kate leaned over her seat. When she surfaced, she was holding an expensive camera with a telephoto lens.
Thirty minutes later the door to the restaurant opened and Susan Webster and Aaron Flynn walked out. Kate snapped off several shots.
Juan Fulano had been surprised to see another car following Aaron Flynn from his office building to the roadside cafe. He had been careful to stay far enough back of both cars so he would not be seen. When Kate parked in the lot Fulano drove down the road, made a U-turn, and pulled to the side of the road, where he waited until Aaron Flynn and Susan Webster came out of the restaurant. His only worry was that Flynn's tail would follow him after he left the diner, but she did not.
As soon as Flynn drove away Fulano turned on his headlights and followed. Flynn stayed on the highway until
