Lassiter

had frosty martinis before dinner. We’d moved on to that pricey daiginjo sake Ziegler liked so much, and now we were hitting the cognac. I wanted to loosen Ziegler’s tongue, preferably without having to yank it out with my hands.

“A Leopold Gourmel,” he said, pouring the cognac into a snifter, “aged thirteen years. I think you’ll catch a whiff of almonds and orange zest.”

He swirled, sniffed, and sipped, quite pleased with himself.

It seemed to be a good time to start asking questions. “What I still don’t get, Charlie, is why you I.D.’d Amy the night of the shooting.”

“Told you before, Castiel pressured me.”

“Yeah, but this is your lover’s sister we’re talking about.”

“Half sister,” he said. “Someone she hadn’t seen since she was a kid. Besides, I pretty much assumed it was Amy shooting at me, and since she missed, I thought she might come back for a second try.”

“So you didn’t get a good look?”

“Well …”

“Because in court, you I.D.’d Alex Castiel.”

“It sort of came back to me later.”

“Really? How’s that work?”

“I thought it through, afterward. You gotta remember, Max recognized the shooter. He said ‘You?’ sounding real surprised-hurt, even. I looked up, saw this figure I later realized was Alex.”

“Later?”

“Yeah. Combining all the factors.”

“With all due respect to a fine host …”

“Yeah?”

“That’s a load of crap.”

Ziegler held his look for a moment, then burst out with a laugh. “Aw, what do you care, Lassiter? Castiel’s a fucking lowlife.”

“Agreed.” I laughed, too, rough and hearty. I thought it best to let that issue go for a moment. Our conversation was being recorded. I had a good start and didn’t want to spook him by hitting too hard too fast. “We’ve come a long way, you and me, Charlie.”

Ziegler’s voice was wet and boozy. “You mean the day you busted into my office and called me a sleazebag.”

“There was something I didn’t realize back then.”

“What’s that?”

“That you really loved Krista.”

“Damn straight. From day one.”

“Which made it easier for you to commit perjury for her.”

His head snapped back as if I’d just stung him with a jab. “Jeez, Lassiter. Just when we were getting along.”

“Relax, Charlie. I’m trying to help you here. There’s a bit of testimony you might want to fiddle with before you testify to the Grand Jury about Castiel.”

That seemed to settle him down. “I’m listening.”

“You said both sisters were in the apartment when you called to tell Krista about Max getting shot. You gave Amy an alibi, so I wasn’t gonna challenge you on it, but Castiel’s lawyers will.”

“How?”

“Castiel will subpoena your phone records just like I did. You called twice. The first one was made to the landline in Krista’s apartment and reached voicemail. I figure Amy was there but was under instructions not to answer the phone. After hanging up, you immediately called Krista’s cell phone. This time, you reached her and spoke for eight minutes.”

He showed me a sloppy smile and bought time by taking a long hit on the cognac. “Landline. Cell phone. What’s the big deal?”

“The cell tower records show that Krista’s phone was in Coconut Grove when she answered. Meaning she was in her car, headed back to her apartment.”

“From where?”

“From your house, where she’d just shot Max Perlow with Amy’s gun.”

It was a bluff. The part about the cell tower was true, but I had no idea where Krista had been a few minutes before taking the call.

Ziegler didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he opened a fancy thermidor and pulled out two fat Cuban cigars. I shook my head, and he put one back inside. He used his guillotine clippers to behead the stogie, French-kissed the tip, and with a wooden match put a blue flame to the tobacco. Finally, he said, “You’ve got Krista all wrong. Murder isn’t in her nature.”

“Don’t attribute your characteristics to her. Murder isn’t in your nature.”

Ziegler had his cigar in one hand, his cognac in the other. “If Krista was gonna kill anyone, it would be Alex for raping and beating her. Or hell, even me, for letting it happen.”

“I’m not a shrink but I think I know how she handled her conflicting feelings about you.”

“Then tell me, ’cause I never figured it out.”

“She loved you when she was still a kid, and you betrayed her. She didn’t want to stop loving you, so she transferred her anger to someone else. Perlow’s the one who coerced you into giving Krista to Castiel. You got the pass, Perlow got the bullet, and Castiel got framed. It fits very nicely.”

“So she waited all these years to kill Perlow?” He blew smoke into the air. “Not buying it, Lassiter.”

“Something new had happened. Perlow had you tailed. He started asking questions about Melody Sanders. I’ll bet you tensed up every time he mentioned her name. The old bastard sensed something, and you knew it. You also knew he’d kill Krista to protect Alex. Hell, he’d already tried.”

“Keep going. This is a good story.”

“I’m betting you told Krista you wish you had the guts to kill the old hood.”

“So what if I did? Idle chat.”

“Not to Krista. She hatches a plan to get rid of Perlow, so you two can live sexily ever after. And I gotta admit, it was a pretty good plan. Best part was not telling you. Krista figured you’d either put the kibosh on it or screw it up.”

Ziegler tapped cigar ashes into a carved glass bowl on his desk and shook his head. “You got a great imagination, Lassiter.”

“I figure Krista parked in the construction site next door, then walked along the seawall onto your property. Once on the pool deck, she purposely knocked over a planter to make a noise. You and Perlow come into the solarium, and Krista plugs him through the window, the same way Bugsy Siegel got his. You reach Krista on her cell to tell her what happened. Only she already knows. And guess what, you did screw it up. You’d already told Castiel that Amy was the shooter, just one sibling away from the truth. But then, you thought it was the truth.”

“A man could sprain his brain, thinking the way you do.”

Ziegler poured himself more cognac and tipped his glass to me. “All this speculation of yours. You gonna take it to Castiel?”

“And let him go free? No way!”

He looked puzzled, so I explained. Castiel can’t be prosecuted for assaulting Krista. The statute of limitations expired years ago. So, unless Castiel took the fall for the murder of Max Perlow, he’d get off scot-free.

“Like you said, Charlie, Castiel is a lowlife. And like I always say, rough justice is better than no justice.”

I could tell from Ziegler’s look that he didn’t know if I was playing him. His voice turned skeptical. “So it doesn’t bother you if Krista gets off, even if she aced Max?”

“I shed no tears for Max Perlow.”

“No?” Studying me.

“Eighteen years ago, Perlow stood in your cabana, looking down at Krista’s naked body. She’d been choked,