The Deep Blue Alibi

order?'

Robinson studied her, as if asking: 'Just how much do you know?' She opened a folder and angled it so that he could see the four-inch-high letters: 'SOUTHERN SHIPWORKS.' Inside was the Sak's catalog with this season's resort-wear. Rayon halter dresses seemed to be making a comeback.

'Certain changes were made, that's true,' Robinson said, carefully.

Victoria picked up the poster board she'd had made at 8 a.m. A blowup of the satellite photos showing a barge under construction. The flat steel deck was piled high with those giant children's blocks. At least that's what they looked like from low-earth orbit. 'Is this the barge you've commissioned?'

Another pause. She could tell from his expression he was looking for a safe passage. A way to navigate the channel between perjury and conspiracy to commit murder.

'It's hard to tell, but yes, that could be mine.'

Victoria strolled past the jury box, holding up the poster. 'What's that on deck, Mr. Robinson? It doesn't look like heavy machinery or construction equipment.'

'Prefabricated steel pods.'

'Hundreds of them, right?'

'Five hundred fifty, ma'am.'

'When you've cornered the witness, keep the questions simple. Force 'Yes' and 'No,' and pick up your pace.'

Thank you, Steve.

'Each one about four hundred to five hundred square feet?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'With conduits for plumbing and electricity and ventilation?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'But no cranes or Mud Cats. No pile drivers or heavy drills?'

'That's correct, ma'am.'

'Because this isn't a work barge, is it?'

'No, it's not.'

'What is it, then?'

'Well, it's a multi-purpose craft, really.'

A fine line of perspiration was visible on Robinson's forehead. She'd made witnesses sweat before, and it was always a thrill. Steve boasted he'd once cross-examined a witness into heart palpitations, firing questions even as paramedics wheeled the man from the courtroom.

'Multipurpose?' A raised eyebrow, a sarcastic tone, idiosyncrasies she'd picked up from Steve. 'Would those purposes be gambling and vacationing?'

'You could say that, yes.'

She raised her voice. 'You say it, Mr. Robinson. Those steel pods are prefab hotel rooms. You're building a floating hotel and casino, aren't you?'

'What if I am?' Robinson shot back. 'I'm a businessman. I'm not doing anything illegal.'

'And if he gets feisty, kick him in the nuts.'

'Nothing illegal,' she repeated, 'unless you conspired to frame Harold Griffin for murder so you could steal his idea at a fraction of the cost.'

Waddle jerked to his feet. 'Objection! Counsel's testifying.' Like all prosecutors, he hated surprises, and now he looked as if he'd just walked into a plate-glass window.

'Sustained,' the judge ruled. 'Ms. Lord, please frame your accusations as questions.'

Victoria circled in front of the jury box, moving closer to the witness. 'If my client built Oceania over the reef, your barge hotel would be barred from the area under maritime safely laws, correct, Mr. Robinson?'

'The immediate area, yes.'

'You needed access to that reef. If Oceania were built, your barge hotel would be dead in the water, correct?'

'I'm sure it would affect business somewhat, but who is to say how much?'

'And a luxury hotel and casino like Oceania would really take the luster off your floating Wal-Mart, wouldn't it?'

'That's a matter of opinion.'

'Your opinion was that you had to stop Griffin from building Oceania.'

'No.' Robinson glared at her. 'Our projects were completely different.'

'Just so the jury understands,' she continued, 'you were hired by Hal Griffin to do the barge work required in the construction of Oceania. But without informing Mr. Griffin, you began surreptitiously planning a competing project?'

'Like I said, I'm a businessman, Ms. Lord.'

Victoria paused, which gave the judge time to leap in. 'Anything further, Counselor?'

Victoria had run out of steam. She had established motive. Now Steve would have to link Robinson to Fowles and Stubbs actual shooting. She was ready to sit down, but realized she'd also violated one of Steve's numerous rules for cross-examination.

'Always end strong.'

'Just one more thing, Your Honor.' She turned back to the witness. 'Mr. Robinson, that speedboat of yours. What did you name it?'

She hoped the newspaper photographer was clicking away. Robinson's face burned with all the anger he'd been bottling up.

'The Satisfaction,' Robinson said.

'You a Rolling Stones fan?'

That sarcasm again. I hate it when Steve does it, but sometimes I can't help myself.

'It was the name of one of Henry Morgan's ships,' Robinson said through gritted teeth.

'Morgan the Terrible?' Feigning surprise.

'Some called him that.'

'Didn't he sink ships and burn villages? Plunder, pillage, and rape?'

'You have to understand history, Ms. Lord. In those days-'

'History or not, wasn't Morgan the Terrible a pirate?'

'He had letters of reprisal from the Crown. He would have considered himself a privateer.'

'Right,' she said, smiling demurely. 'And you consider yourself a businessman.'

Fifty-two

THE WHOLE TRUTH

The corridor leading to the courtroom was out-ofdoors, really a fourth-floor catwalk. Waiting to be called to testify, carrying his suit coat over an arm, rivulets of sweat ran down Steve's face into his neck brace. The tropical heat seemed to roll waves of pain through his skull.

The door to the courtroom banged opened and Leicester Robinson barreled out. Muttering profanities, his face set in a snarl. Head down, he nearly plowed into Steve on his way to the elevator.

This is good. This is very good.

Victoria must have skinned him and hung up the pelt, Steve thought. She was a better lawyer than he'd been at the same age. Part of Victoria's effectiveness was that she didn't know how good she was. That tiniest bit of insecurity kept her ego under control. Her need to be liked-an affliction he did not share-made her more…well, likable.

There were other differences, Steve thought. He had street smarts, she had real smarts. He wielded a broadsword, she struck with a rapier.