them into their pajamas, ready for the sack.
'But enough small talk,' Hardy began. 'What did you ever find out about the Romans?'
Over by the stove Glitsky dipped the strainer up and down in his cup and watched the steam rise. 'I know they were after the Greeks but beyond that it gets a little fuzzy.' He picked up his cup, holding the tea chain in his other hand, crossed to the table and sat. 'Latin wasn't my thing or I'd probably know more.'
Hardy drank coffee. 'Cecil Roman, father of Melissa Roman, deceased patient of Larry Witt. Mr. Roman accused Witt of performing an abortion and killing his daughter.'
The tea was by now as dark as Hardy's coffee and still Glitsky kept dipping the strainer. 'Oh, those Romans. No. I haven't found out anything. I probably would have told you if I had.' He finally took the strainer out and took a cautious sip. 'You really going to need it?'
'I'd like to know if Roman, or his wife for that matter, has an alibi.'
Glitsky nodded. 'The case falling apart?'
Hardy told him about the events of the afternoon, the allegation about Lightner, how it would be helpful if they had at least one other person who might have had some good motive and opportunity to kill Dr. Witt.
'It sounds like this guy Lightner kind of sticks up. He was sleeping with the lady and he could have-'
'They both deny they were lovers.'
Glitsky gave him the eye. 'I'm sure.'
Hardy shrugged. 'It doesn't really matter. The jury's going to believe it.'
'So there's a motive for him.'
'Except he was working that morning. At his office. With secretary in attendance. Terrell already checked it out.'
Glitsky slurped some tea, his eyes out of focus somewhere behind Hardy. 'I'm not sure I understand why I want to help you point the finger away from a murder suspect who looks to me like she's guilty. You want to explain that part to me again? I'm a cop, remember? I'm on the other side.'
'I could say to serve the ends of justice but I sense you'd gag or something.'
'Or something.'
'Okay, I won't say that. How about we're such good friends and I'd do the same thing for you?'
'Nope. No good.'
Hardy got up for more coffee. At the counter he turned back around. 'I've got it – you might get the collar on the real killer.'
'Except we think she's already on trial.'
'Well, what about if it isn't her? Look, Abe, the Romans hated Larry Witt. All I'm asking you to do is find out if they were in Tahiti or some place on December 28 so I can cross them off.'
'That's all, huh? Find out what somebody was doing on a certain day ten months ago? You saw them, didn't you? Why didn't you ask them?'
'I think it was that the opportunity never came up.'
'So I go find out, right? Piece of cake. Speaking of which, cut me a little of that, would you?'
The remains of Jacob's birthday cake, pretty well destroyed, were on the drain, and Hardy scooped some of it onto a paper plate and brought it back to the table. 'See what a friend I am?'
Glitsky rubbed a finger through the frosting, popped it into his mouth. 'Absurd,' he said.
Hardy shrugged. 'But so much of life is.'
Freeman did not have two bottles of wine at his French restaurant. Instead, after the first one, he decided he had to take another crack at Jennifer, get to the bottom of this affair issue.
But he didn't make it upstairs to the jail. Ken Lightner was coming down the wide steps at the front of the Hall of Justice when Freeman arrived. Not given to hesitation in any event, Freeman jumped out of the cab, bumping his head on the door and calling, 'Dr. Lightner, wait a minute, would you?'
Fumbling for some money, Freeman threw a mixed handful of coins and bills through the cab's front window. Lightner had come down the steps. 'Mr. Freeman, I'm sorry, but it's late and I'm very tired. Whatever this is, it's going to have to wait.'
'It's not going to have to do anything of the kind, sir. I need the truth from you and I need it now.'
Lightner gestured back toward the building. 'I told the truth in there this afternoon.'
'And tomorrow, if I choose, I get to cross-examine you about that, about what you said. Would you rather we get to it then? What have you been doing in there? Visiting my client?'
'Visiting my patient, Mr. Freeman. My patient.'
'And your lover?'
This time Lightner's response was measured. 'I've denied that under oath. You're going to have to accept that.'
'I don't accept it,' Freeman said. 'I don't believe it, and that makes you my best suspect.'
'Me? Are you joking?'
Freeman jabbed a finger. 'Yeah, you. No, I'm not joking. If you were having an affair with Jennifer, you've got at least as good a motive as she does to have killed her husband.' Of course he didn't really believe that, but he had to try. 'So I'll look forward to talking to you tomorrow on the stand, and if you think you're tired now…' Freeman headed for the wide doorway.
'Now just a minute…'
Freeman turned. 'It's going to take a sight more than a minute, Doctor. You got the time or not? If not, I've got better things to do.'
They were ten feet apart, Freeman flat on his feet like a fighter. Lightner scratched at his beard. 'All right,' he said. 'But not here.'
'I know a place,' Freeman said, already moving, leading the way across Bryant, through the doors and down the steps to the underground labyrinth leading to Lou the Greek's. This time of night the place was nearly empty. Lou was wiping up, the TV was dark. Two regulars quietly nursed beers and shots at the bar and a couple were wrapped around each other in a side booth. Freeman took Lightner to the back, to another booth. When Lou started toward them, Freeman waved him away.
'My only concern, Mr. Freeman, is Jennifer.' It hadn't been warm outside and Lou's wasn't any better, but Lightner had a sheen of sweat on his brow that he seemed unaware of.
'Well, good, Doctor, that gets us off on the right foot.' Freeman knocked on the table, loud, calling out. 'On second thought, Lou, bring us two cold ones, would you?' Back to Dr. Lightner, he crossed his hands in front of him. 'I'm listening, Doctor.'
Again the beard got scratched. 'It's complicated. She thinks she's in love. With me. It's a common phenomenon, transference, reinforced by the situation she had at home.'
'Transference? Where you sleep with her?'
Lightner shook his head. 'Look, Mr. Freeman, I am not a therapist who sleeps with his patient. I don't really care if you believe that or not. That would really damage her. She doesn't need that, she didn't need that, even if she thinks she did…'
'And she thought she did?'
Lou came back with the beers, put them on the table, disappeared. Freeman put his hand around one and drew it to him, drinking, listening. Lightner sat there, reflecting, ignoring his bottle. 'It was not an easy week,' he said. 'Down there, I mean. In Costa Rica…'
Freeman took another swig of beer. 'So you didn't sleep with her. But why didn't you tell us about how she felt?'
Lightner was shaking his head side to side, as though lecturing a child. 'That would have been rather stupid.'
'Why?'
'Because it would announce to the jury that Jennifer wasn't in love with her husband, that she wanted out of the marriage. You think that would help her, help your case?'
Freeman shrugged. 'It's out now, Doctor. How about that?'
