Dirty Blonde

communication with one party in a lawsuit, which isn’t done.” Cate heard the huffiness in her voice and almost laughed at the irony. I’d whore around but I’d never take an ex parte call.

“Did you ever receive a note from him, or a letter?”

“No.”

“Do you have any reason to think he had an interest in you, romantically?”

“No.”

“Did you have any encounter with him at all? An intimate encounter?”

“No, of course not,” Cate answered, though she couldn’t blame him for asking. “I never met the man until the trial.”

“Then I can’t explain what he did. It’s like he surveilled you, or had you surveilled. I’ve seen that in divorce cases, mostly. Like Cheaters, on TV.”

Cate let it go. She was getting sick of TV. “You think he hired a private detective?”

“No, these papers don’t look professional enough. Private detectives, their reports tend to follow the same format. This is an amateur’s work.”

“He wouldn’t do it himself. He couldn’t. He doesn’t have the time and I doubt he was even in the city. I thought he worked in L.A.”

“Maybe someone who works for him did it.”

“He has an assistant,” Cate said, thinking aloud. She thought of Micah Gilbert, the young woman from the front row of the gallery, with the long hair. Simone was never without her during trial. “What kind of man has someone else do his stalking?”

Nesbitt smiled briefly. “That’s not all, Judge. There were pictures, too. Look on the last page. I photocopied a few.”

“Pictures?”

“Not like that. I mean, not of that.” Nesbitt cleared his throat, and Cate was already tearing to the back of the packet. “They were color but they came out in black-and-white on the Xerox.”

Cate squinted at the first photo, taken at night. It was a picture of the Chestnut Grill, a bar in Fort Washington. A black curve at the top of the picture frame suggested the edge of a car windshield. The second photo was a candid photo of a good-looking man with a mustache, also taken at night on a city street. Oh boy. Cate recognized the mustache. She flipped the page. Oh no. The last photo pictured Cate herself going into another bar, her face clearly visible as she waited at the door for someone else to leave.

My God in heaven. She couldn’t pretend anymore. She set the papers down and buried her face in her hands, smearing lots of expensive makeup.

“Don’t take it so hard, Judge. I’m divorced three years now because I ran around. I don’t judge anybody, not anymore. Besides, you’re a single woman.”

Cate stayed hidden in her hands. Her cheeks felt like they were spontaneously combusting.

“The way I look at it is, now you know about it, Judge. You can protect yourself in the future.”

Cate knew what he meant. “I’m never doing this again,” she said, still behind her hands.

“As far as I’m concerned, your business is your business. It’s not my business, and I don’t want to know about it.”

“But now you do,” Cate said, finally lowering her hands and looking at him, and they both understood what she meant.

“Judge, my lips are sealed. I’m a by-the-book kind of guy. Always was.” Nesbitt made a hand chop. “It stops here.”

“But you came to me with these papers. That’s not by the book.”

“Beg to differ.” Nesbitt held up a warning finger. “I don’t like people spying, and I’m not violating procedure by being here. I’m giving you a heads-up, and that’s something the department does all the time for important people like yourself. A city councilman, or a CEO-type-a guy. We do it more than you think.”

“Does Russo know about this?” Cate asked, when it occurred to her.

“No. Just me.”

“You didn’t tell him?”

“No. This investigation’s on the Simone case, so it stays with the Simone case. The Roundhouse can be a friggin’ sieve, so I always keep my investigations close to the vest. No leaks.” Nesbitt shook his head. “I didn’t even tell Roots about those papers on you. He doesn’t need to know. That’s why I came alone this morning.”

Cate felt grateful. “But you and Russo are friends.”

“No, we’re not. We used to be partners, is all.”

“On the cop shows, the partners are always best friends.”

Nesbitt smiled. “This is no buddy movie. Fact is, Russo’s okay, but there’s a reason we’re not partners anymore. We’re like Nick Nolte and Eddie Murphy. Opposites. Russo’s not a by-the-book kinda guy.”

No, he certainly isn’t. “He came to my house last night,” Cate ventured, since she was feeling safer about confiding in him, and Nesbitt stiffened, his mouth tightening.

“He shouldn’t have. What happened?”

“He’s angry that he lost the case. He showed me a videotape of amateur porn and a man in a hotel room.”

Nesbitt’s features darkened. “He shouldn’t have done that, either.”

“So you saw it? With the man in the hotel room?”

“Yes. He showed it to me. He thinks the woman with the man, Partridge, is you.”

Cate’s heart hiccupped. “And what did you think?”

“I wasn’t sure. I thought it could be you, Judge, but I didn’t tell him that. I figured if it was you, with some guy you picked up-” Nesbitt caught himself. “I mean, dated.”

Cate flushed, mortified.

“I don’t know why you threw money at the guy, but it doesn’t mean you’re crooked. Or being blackmailed. Knowing what I know”-Nesbitt gestured at the papers lying between them on the worktable-“I figured it was a lovers’ quarrel.”

Cate winced.

“Hey, whatever. If there’s no murder, it’s not my job. Partridge wasn’t a homicide, so it’s just another weird coincidence. Philly’s a small town in lots of ways, and given what you were up to, it’s not unlikely you’d run into a guy like Partridge. In fact, it was just a matter of time.” Nesbitt pursed his lips under his brushy mustache. “Look at it this way. Russo doesn’t know about you, what you’re up to, so he figures it is what it looks like-a crooked judge. Or a judge being blackmailed. Not that I’m making excuses for him.”

“Did you know he was going to my house with the tape?”

“Of course not. You think I’d let him get away with that? Makes the squad look bush league.”

Cate believed him, because he looked so offended.

“Don’t worry about Russo. I’ve seen him like this before, and he gets over it. He had his hopes up about the TV thing. Me and him used to talk about it, and he took the verdict bad. He’d started spending the money before he even had it. Picturing himself at one of those infinity pools, or on the golf course. He’s a hothead, an emotional guy, but then it goes away.”

Cate wasn’t so sure. “I thought about reporting him, but I’m not, for obvious reasons.”

“Please, don’t.” Nesbitt looked worried again. “You don’t need that kind of blowback, and there’s no reason to. Trust me, I’ve known the guy twenty-some years. He’s all talk, no action.”

“Have you seen him since the news about Marz?”

“No, and he’s off today. I’ll catch him soon as I can.” Nesbitt rose to go, brushing down his dress pants. “Anyway, I got to get moving. The conference.”

“Right.” Cate rose, too. “Thanks for coming by. I do appreciate your judgment, and your discretion.”

“You’re welcome, Judge.” Nesbitt smiled. “I’m sure this has been a rough coupla weeks for you, but it’s all over now.”

“Case closed, as you guys say.” Cate walked him to the door, and Nesbitt smiled.

“You mean, ‘case cleared.’”

Cate laughed as he turned to go, and she shut the door behind him.