Harry picks up on the serious tone and waltzes over to take a seat.
Templeton leans forward, braces his hands, short armed on the surface of the desk, the cigar still between his teeth. “Before I go any further, I have to have your word that nothing said here will be repeated outside this room. Do I have your word?”
Harry and I look at each other. “What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I have to have your word.” He takes the cigar from his mouth.
“That would depend on what you have to say,” I tell him. “If you tell us you have hard evidence that somebody other than our client did the deed, you can be sure that before they strap her to the gurney and insert the needle I’m gonna mention it to somebody.”
“No, no. I don’t want you to misunderstand. You’re not going to be hearing that your client didn’t do the crime. Based on all the evidence we have so far, which is, in a word, ‘overwhelming’…”
“Please try not to scare us,” says Harry. “I break down easily.”
“I’ve noticed. No, everything we have points to your client. You’ve seen the prints on the dagger, the toxicology report, and the fingerprint evidence on the medication bottle. And there’s more, the coins she took, the pawn tickets in her purse.”
“What about the coin from the probate estate?” says Harry. “The seller on that one was a man. What do you have on this guy John Waters?”
“No doubt an alias,” says Templeton. “A dead end.”
“What do you mean a dead end? Have you checked it out?” I ask.
“We’re still looking at it. But I wouldn’t hold your breath. She could have passed the coin off to somebody else. Or had help at the house with the murders. The fact is that the only person who had any contact with this guy Waters was the purchaser of the coin and he’s dead. According to the executor the buy was made in cash, so there’s no check or account that we can trace. Like I say, a dead end. So let’s get back to the toxicology report,” says Templeton.
“What, now you’re going to show that she tried to poison him?” I say.
“I’ll concede the point; given the amount of the drugs in his system she merely tried to put him to sleep. Under different circumstances, given the evidence, we might even be talking today about reduced charges, dropping the special circumstances, something less than a capital offense.
“That would be pretty generous,” says Templeton, “considering that Pike’s murder took place during the commission of another crime, the robbery. If that was all there was, I might have entertained a pitch for something less. But we can’t forget the maid. We have multiple murders here. And that one is very hard to swallow.”
“How could we forget?” says Harry.
Templeton looks at both of us. “No, either Pike woke up after she medicated him or the medication didn’t work. At the moment we’re not sure. But either way, it’s clear. Pike stumbled in on them in the midst of the burglary, probably while they were in the process of stealing the coins. They killed him, took his computer and perhaps other items of personal property. At this point we can’t be entirely sure of what’s missing. We’re still looking, but you can be sure we’ll find it.”
“You keep saying ‘they.’” I tell him.
“Excuse me?” Templeton looks up at me.
“You said, ‘They killed him.’”
“Well, yeah,” says Templeton, “we haven’t caught up with the codefendant yet. But we will.”
“You’re telling us there was a second perpetrator?” says Harry.
“Well, yeah. You didn’t know that?”
Harry shakes his head.
“At first we thought she might have done it alone, but then a couple of weeks ago we figured it out.”
“Figured what out?” I ask.
“Whoever it was entered by way of the back door,” says Templeton. “It appears your client tried to unlock it for him, but the maid must have locked it again. Both sets of fingerprints were found on the knob. The lock was picked for entry, so her helper appears to have come prepared and had some skills. We found scratches on the tumblers, both the dead bolt and the door lock.
“And we’ve talked to some of the hired help and others who knew your client. It seems she was seen all over town, Del Mar as well as other places, almost always in the presence of other men, talking to them. Sooner or later we’ll find the right one.”
“What are you saying?” I ask.
“Well, you’ve seen the woman,” he says. “She’s gorgeous. Catch me at a weak moment and who knows, maybe even I would have helped her out.”
“She may be petite, but you’d need a ladder,” says Harry.
“Let’s not get personal,” says Templeton. “You can dress her like a nun when you bring her to court, but there’s no denying she’s knock-dead gorgeous. And if I can’t get at least half the judges in the county, the male half, to take judicial notice of her good looks I’ll quit.”
“Okay. So she’s pretty,” I tell him.
“Pretty!” Templeton’s voice goes up a full octave. “Your partner must be quite the lady’s man.” He looks at Harry. “If all he can say about Katia Solaz is that she’s ‘pretty,’ his date card must be full every night.”
He waits for me to say something, but I don’t.
“As I was saying, according to all the witnesses we’ve spoken to, she never had a problem finding men to talk to. Fact is, unless I’m mistaken, isn’t that how you met her? The first time, I mean.” When I look up, Templeton’s glowing face is boring in on me.
“What?”
“I was informed from one of the police reports that that’s how you and Ms. Solaz first met. What was it, she approached you in a grocery store and started talking, is that right?”
“Yes.” What else can I say?
“How did she do it, just walk up to you?” he says.
“She was looking for something. I don’t remember,” I lie.
“I’ll bet she was,” says Templeton.
“It was nothing like that,” I tell him.
“Right,” he says. “And your heart didn’t go pitty-pat either, I’ll bet. Well, if she met her lawyer that way you can figure she may have found men to do other things for her in the same way. Spread a little honey around and bees will come.”
The blood drains from my head as I filter all the details. The cops showed up at our office door with my business card, the one they found in Katia’s purse when they arrested her. I had given it to her that morning at the grocery store in Del Mar. The police asked me if I was her lawyer, and if not, how she came by my card. I explained it to them, and they left.
If the cops have been busy looking for a co-conspirator, it begs the question. Why have they never returned to ask me if I had an alibi for the night of the murders? My mind starts to race. Where the hell was I? I have a sudden compulsion to tear through the pages of my calendar. I can’t remember.
Harry and I sit stone faced, staring at the Dwarf from across the desk.
“You look surprised.” Although this is not directed at one of us in particular, Templeton seems to be looking at me as he says it.
“Do I?”
“Surely you didn’t think she did it alone?”
“I don’t think she did it at all,” I tell him.
Templeton ignores me. “She would have needed help to blank out the camera at the side of the house and to take down the motion sensors. You didn’t think we bought into the concept of coincidence, did you? Hell, she couldn’t possibly have carried all those coins herself. We got an estimate from a coin expert, just on the stuff we know is missing, and the weight would have been more than a hundred and forty pounds. That’s more than she weighs, and it doesn’t include the stuff she took, the coins she hocked along the way on her bus trip. No, there’s no question, somebody entered the house from that side, and they left the same way when they were finished.”
