The Deep Blue Alibi

of lime Jell-O. Although the blonde on Steve's shoulder was not Susie, her specs were as close as he was likely to find. Her name was Tami, according to the instruction manual, which also included helpful hints about washing various parts with warm, sudsy water.

'Cuanto cuesta la rubia?' a man in a guayabera shouted as they passed Castillo Joyeria, a cut-rate jewelry store. Inquiring into the price of the blonde.

'You can't afford her,' Steve called back.

In fact, Tami cost six thousand dollars. Custom-made to the buyer's specifications. Skin tone: tan. Hair: honey blond. Nails: French manicure. Pubic hair: lightly trimmed. Breasts: 38DD and jiggly. Articulated hands that can grip. Mouth, vagina, and anal cavity, well. . in working order. Lubed and suction ready, if you were into that sort of thing. Tami was on loan from Harvey Leinoff, The Beav's owner, who after dating the hired help for years had recently turned to inanimate sex objects for his personal needs. No back talk, no dressing room catfights, no overtime pay.

The three of them-Steve, Victoria, and Tami- headed up the granite steps to the courthouse, Steve beginning to wish they had parked closer. Tami was damn heavy, and as her weight shifted, a perky silicone nipple lodged-like a pencil eraser-in his ear.

Victoria tried to ignore the carnival going on next to her. 'So how could Luber help us in Uncle Grif's case?'

'He let on that he knew who stuck Stubbs with that spear. Or could find out. It wasn't clear which.'

'Do you trust Luber?'

Steve struggled up the last step. 'About as far as I can throw Tami.'

They were at the front doors, waiting to go through the metal detector, the guards stifling laughs.

'This is crazy,' Victoria said. 'There's no way you can force the plaintiff to roll around on the courtroom floor with your rubber doll.'

'Don't need the plaintiff. I'm gonna wrestle Tami.'

'Oh, please. .'

'I'm gonna strip down to my briefs-'

'Not the leopard-spotted ones!'

'Of course not. That would be tacky. I'm wearing my Florida Marlins silk boxers. Which you'd know if you'd slept over last night.'

Waiting for an overweight bail bondsman to go through the security check, Victoria whispered: 'Please try not to get us held in contempt.'

'Vic, a lawyer who's afraid of jail-'

'Is like a surgeon who's afraid of blood,' she finished. 'I know. I know.'

They'd reached the front of the line, where Omar Torres, a portly courthouse security guard, was manning the walk-through metal detector.

'Omar, we're late for a hearing,' Steve said. 'Could you speed it up a bit?'

'No way, Steve,' Torres said. 'Yesterday, some santero sneaked in here with a human skull, cast a spell right in Judge Gridley's courtroom.'

Victoria placed her purse on the conveyor belt for the X-ray machine.

'Gonna have to pat you down, honey,' Torres said.

'In your dreams,' Victoria said.

'Not you, Ms. Lord.' Torres pointed at Tami the Love Doll, now standing shakily on her feet-painted toenails and all-leaning on Steve. 'Her. Gotta check all her body cavities.'

'No need, Omar,' Steve replied. 'I already did last night.'

Victoria tried to analyze what Steve had told her, but it didn't compute. 'Why would Pinky Luber care about your father's case?'

'Obviously, he's afraid of something.'

They were sitting on a black wooden bench that resembled a church pew in the corridor outside Judge Alvin Schwartz's chambers. Steve had moved Tami between them after two guys in suits walked by and pinched the doll's boobs. Plaintiff's P.I. lawyers, Victoria figured. The insurance guys would never be so bold.

Steve had checked in with the bailiff, an officious young man who would be unemployed if not related to Judge Schwartz through marriage, if not bloodlines.

The bailiff carried a clipboard and demanded to know the names of every lawyer and witness who would be appearing in his great-uncle's chambers. Steve dutifully gave their names, choosing 'Tami Stepford' for his witness. They settled down to wait. Judge Schwartz was running late, a legalism for reading the morning paper while having his coffee with a bagel and a schmear.

'What's Luber afraid of?' Victoria asked. 'He's served his time. There's nothing more the state can do to him.'

'Unless something new came out in the Bar case.'

'Anything now would be too late under the statute of limitations.'

Steve shrugged, and Tami's head slid down his shoulder. 'All I know, Pinky's scared shitless about my lawsuit.'

'Did you tell your father about his visit?'

'Yep. Dad said Pinky was a wind-belly from way back. And if I got mixed up with him, I'd be hitched to a dead mule that was ass-deep in molasses. Or maybe it was manure, I can't remember which.'

'Herb still wants you to drop the Bar case, right?'

'Said if I didn't, he'd write me out of his will.'

'Strong words.'

'Yeah, I'd lose a leaky houseboat and a collection of empty Bacardi bottles.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'I'm not going to be intimidated by Dad or bribed by Pinky. Full speed ahead on the Bar case and to hell with Pinky Luber.'

'But if Luber really can help us. .'

'Forget it. I won't sell out my father.'

'Herb doesn't want his license back. Maybe you should listen to him.'

'This is what I've been talking about, Vic. You're too close to the Griffins. You can't be objective.'

'Me? You won't accept help in Uncle Grif's case because you need to prove something to your father.'

'Prove what?'

'That you're just as good a lawyer as he was.'

'This isn't about me.'

'Yes it is. If you were objective, you'd see it.'

After that, no one said a thing, not even Tami.

The bailiff called three other cases, whose deep-carpet lawyers customarily gave him cash at Christmas, Halloween, and Bribe-Your-Public-Servant Day. So the partners of Solomon amp; Lord were still sitting on the hard, wooden pew at ten a.m., Victoria wondering what to tell Steve about her late-night phone call.

Then she just blurted it out. 'The Queen called last night.'

'Zurich or Johannesburg?'

'Katmandu. She's getting injections of pituitary glands from mountain goats. Supposed to rejuvenate the skin.'

'You tell her about the case?'

Victoria nodded. 'She was shocked. First time in years either of us mention Uncle Grif's name, and I have to tell her he's being charged with murder.'

'She ask about Junior?'

'Only a hundred questions. 'How's he look? What's he doing? Is he married?' '

'She still think he's a dreamboat?'

'And 'terrif.' She said Junior was a terrif kid, so she's not surprised how he turned out.'

'And how did he turn out? I mean, what exactly did you tell her?'

'Nothing much.' Which was basically true, she thought. She didn't share her conflicted feelings with The