“Unless Thomas really was surprised.”
“No. Don’t you see it? By feigning innocence, he’s able to get Moran and Jackson to trust him, to go along with him, to conspire in his alibi. Nobody witnessed him killing Lee. The other two are completely confused, but they’ve got things to hide, too. They give him the benefit of the doubt, and he’s hoping he can at least get them to tell a few fibs to help him with his story. He knows they’ve got things to hide. He decides to exploit their trust and their fears and take his chances.”
“That’s not exactly what I’d call a perfect plan.”
“Yeah, well, you got a guy who just flew into a rage and killed his lover. He’s distraught. He was drunk. He acted impetuously. There are no perfect plans available. He knows he can’t get the body out of the apartment without maybe waking Moran or Jackson. Or without maybe being seen by some Korean as he’s standing in the elevator with a corpse slung over his shoulder. He’s forced to ad-lib.”
She said, “You know what? I’ll bet that’s exactly the case the prosecutor is going to present.”
“It’s sure as hell the case I’d present,” I admitted, without confiding that was exactly what I’d hoped to accomplish that night: to get a handle on what Eddie would argue, so I could figure out a strategy to block him.
Katherine gave me a fairly friendly smile. “You know, Drummond, I hate admitting this, but you’re a pretty good attorney.”
I said, “Me? You’re the one who figured it out,” which actually was true. In fact, she’d had it figured out long before I came to her room, which made me suddenly suspicious about how much else she’d already figured out that she wasn’t sharing with me.
She peered at me over the covers. “Is that a compliment?”
I smiled. “That’s a compliment.”
She stared at the far wall a moment. “I never thought I’d say this, but we make a pretty fair team.”
I reluctantly said, “In some ways, I guess we do.”
Katherine then dropped her covers and climbed out of bed. She pitter-pattered to the bathroom. A moment passed, then I heard water running. She came back in sipping from a tumbler. Maybe I was imagining things, but I could swear she’d brushed her hair, too, because it was no longer disheveled and mussed. It hung down like a long, captivating robe past her waist. She grabbed another chair, dragged it over in front of me, and fell into it. Swinging those delicately shaped legs up, she propped her feet right next to mine.
It was what you might call a very stimulating gesture. I mean, lesbian or not, she really had great legs. And I’m a guy, and even though I knew she was untouchable fruit, there are parts of my body that don’t know the difference between fruit and cannoli. This was also the moment when I noticed she wasn’t wearing a bra under that thin, tiny T-shirt. These two cute little things jiggled about a bit, and the bottom of her T-shirt was hiked up all the way to the tippy-top of her thighs. I guess because she was gay, she was unconscious of the effect all this was having on me.
I began fighting a chivalrous battle to keep my eyeballs pasted on the floor, on the table, on the wall – anywhere but on her. I wasn’t winning, but I swear I put up a hell of a fight.
“All right,” she said, apparently unconscious that Ol’ Humungo really couldn’t care less if she was a raging bull dyke, so long as she had all the right plumbing and equipment. And she did. Believe me, she did.
She asked, “You’re still convinced Whitehall did it?”
“Uh-huh. Very convinced,” I said, rubbing my forehead, so I could shield my eyes, so she couldn’t catch me staring at her cute little feet.
“Do you buy my premise they were trading partners?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. Why not? I mean, it’s not exactly how I’d break off an affair, but I guess it’s plausible.”
She took a sip of water and I could sense, but not see, her studying my face, because my own eyes were busy sliding from her shapely little feet up her velvety smooth shins.
“Humor me some more,” she said. “Go back to what you asked Thomas tonight, about who else might’ve killed Lee. Start with Moran. He’s Whitehall’s friend, right? He knows what Whitehall intends. He obliges him by bringing a consenting partner.”
“A true friend,” I caustically agreed.
Katherine had marvelous kneecaps, too, I’d just noticed. Not too big, not too small, not too bony, not too fleshy. My mother always used to say the only true way to judge a woman is by her kneecaps. Sounds odd, but in a funny way, she’s got a point.
Suddenly Katherine said, “Drummond, you’ve got to stop that.”
“Huh?” I said, thinking I’d just been caught peeping.
“Stop making your hetero judgments. Gays live in a different world with different standards. Particularly gays in the military.”
“Okay, so Moran’s a great guy,” I said, forgetting about her knees and feasting on her thighs. “The kind of noble buddy every man wishes he had. So who’s Jackson? Is he Moran’s steady? Or is he just some willing toady?”
“My guess is he’s nothing more than a compliant partner. Maybe Moran’s slept with him a few times. There’s physical involvement, but they’re emotionally detached.”
In a valiant display of strength, I jerked my eyes up from her legs and looked at her face. Her eyes, I suddenly noticed, were the greenest things I ever saw, utterly infinite pools of grass and forest and shimmering light. There was something odd about the way she was looking at me. But that was all wrong. She’s a lesbian. And we obviously disliked each other intensely. Otherwise, I might’ve sworn she was giving me what we men call the come-hither look.
I mean, we’re in this hotel room, it’s late at night, there’s this big, comfy bed right next to us, she’s damned close to naked, and she’s so close to me I can smell her hair. Smelled damned great, too.
But this was idiotic. Hell, we didn’t even like each other.
Idiotic or not, I decided I’d better leave, and damn quick, too. I mean, there’s something about having a gorgeous, half-naked woman perched within arm’s reach that’s very corrosive to your self-discipline.
I quickly stood up and gave her a lopsided grin. “Hey, I gotta go.”
She seemed momentarily stunned. Then she shot me a look that, had I not known better, seemed ever so slightly peeved. “You’re leaving? But you woke me.”
“I know. Sorry, really. It’s just that… uh, my brain’s fried. I’m, uh, exhausted,” I said, making a brisk retreat.
I got the door open and was halfway out when I heard Katherine grumble, “God, you can be such an ass, Drummond.”
Now where in the hell did that come from? She should’ve been thanking me for letting her get back to sleep. I closed the door and muttered to myself the whole way back to my room.
It took me a while, but I finally got hold of it. Most folks would guess I’d just made a rollicking blunder, that she’d just offered me a ticket to ride, that I’d been a damn fool and walked away. Maybe she wasn’t a purebred lesbian. Maybe she was AC/DC, and I just happened to blunder in on a night when she was in one of those enchanting DC moods.
But then, most folks don’t know Katherine Carlson the way I do. What I guessed was that maybe she wanted to teach me a lesson for waking her in the middle of the night. Or maybe she just wanted to put me in my place on generic principle. Some women can act that way: Please believe me about this. It’s all about power, and the quickest, most surefire way to get it is to flash a little leg, smile a crooked smile, and then act terrifically outraged when the randy bull starts snorting and scratching the ground.
She’d pulled down those covers, and climbed out of that bed, and I nearly fell for it, too. I’d almost made a damned fool out of myself. I didn’t, though. I didn’t give her the chance to mortify me, to coldly order me to stop pawing her and get the hell out of her room. In the battle of the sexes, I’d notched up a victory.
If it was anybody but Katherine Carlson, this would sound too contrived and Machiavellian by half. Only I knew her. I knew her well, too. She was the most vindictive, conniving lawyer I’d ever met. Nobody can build leakproof firewalls; some of that chilling guile has to seep over the edge into her personal life.
At any rate, the shower water was so frigid it was like being scalded by ice cubes. I nearly got frostbite, but I got over it.
