given that splendid interview that had done so much to advance my career.
“We’ve got a new problem,” I told her.
She hrummphed once or twice, like she was clearing her throat, although the fact that she was simultaneously rolling her eyes gave it a wholly different implication. “What’s our new problem, Drummond?”
“I found bugs in my telephone and around my room. They’re fairly sophisticated, because they’re real tiny.”
It took her a moment to fully swallow this news. She stared at me. Then she began taking her characteristically small, measured paces.
“Who put them there?”
This was where it was going to get tricky, because I wasn’t supposed to tell her about my secret liaisons with Buzz Mercer and his spooky gang. Were it anybody but her, with her penchant for flying into indignant fits and chatting up every reporter in sight, I might’ve ignored the rules. But this was Miss Blabbermouth.
“I haven’t a clue,” I somewhat lied. “But I’d guess it’s either the South Koreans or our own government.”
“What if we have these electronic devices analyzed? Will that tell us?”
“Probably not. Anyone sophisticated enough to use them makes sure they’re untraceable.”
She stopped pacing and gave me a discerning look. “Have you said anything on the phone that could be a problem?”
“I don’t think so, but you never know.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, resuming her walk as she tried to discern the full context of this new twist.
“Katherine,” I said, interrupting her thinking, “if they’ve done up my room, maybe they’ve done yours and the others as well. They may even have wired the hair parlor.”
This was the point when her composure took a radical turn for the worse, because if the prosecution had access to every conversation we’d ever had, well, then our client was screwed. Picture being in a poker game where you can see through every card on the table; then triple the implications.
She cursed a few times in a real unladylike way and stomped her tiny feet like a pouting child. “Shit, I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it.”
“This means a mistrial!” she finally declared.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ve never heard of such a gross violation of legal ethics. You read about this kind of thing in novels, but I’ve never heard of it in real life.”
To which I very intelligently said, “Yes, well…”
“You can’t honestly think we can avoid a mistrial, can you?”
“Well,” I said, in my most conciliatory tone, since it was actually a surprisingly dumb question from someone with her legal acumen.
“Well what, Drummond?”
“How do you get a mistrial for a trial that hasn’t even begun?”
She began ticking off her angry little fingers. “Okay, you get the venue changed. You get the prosecutorial team disqualified. You get their bar licenses revoked. You lodge a motion to have the charges dismissed.”
“And if it turns out it was only my hotel room?”
“You’re a member of the defense team.”
“And if I can’t testify I said anything that compromises our case?”
“I don’t care. The fact they’ve been listening is all we need to file a motion.”
“No, you need evidence that ties the listening devices straight to the prosecution. You got that evidence, Katherine? I didn’t think so. Besides, our odds of getting a change of venue in this case are about zero. So what would we accomplish?”
Since everything I’d said was true, for once Katherine was out of arguments.
I said, “Look, I’ll arrange to get our rooms swept every day. Imelda knows how to handle it.”
“All right. But if she finds any more bugs – and I mean one single bug – I’m blowing the whistle. Have her report directly to me.”
“Okay, fine. There’s one other thing you and I have to talk over.”
“What’s that?”
I put on my most afflicted, woe-is-me expression. “Aren’t I sharing things with you?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“Aren’t I being helpful and open? Like this little thing?”
“Well, yes,” she said, completely unaware, of course, about the separate investigation I was so diligently conducting.
“I interviewed Bales this morning. He said you interviewed him, too. A week ago. How come I didn’t know about it?”
“Oh that,” she said, with an innocent pout. “I just never mentioned it. There’s just so damned much on my mind. I forgot. Sorry.”
I wasn’t buying it. Carlson has a memory like a computer hard drive. It loses nothing. It overlooks nothing. And it’s immune to viruses, power failures, and assorted other natural and unnatural disasters. She didn’t get to be little Miss Always First in the Class on low brain juice.
“So it was a simple oversight?” I suggested.
“Yes, a simple oversight. That’s all it was.”
“I mean, you’d already studied the autopsy results. You’d already interviewed Bales. Is there anything else you’ve already done I should know about?”
“Like what?”
If it was anybody but her I would’ve taken that question at face value. “Anything?” I said, with a menacing look.
Her expression became suddenly thoughtful, as though she were rummaging through her memory banks for anything worth noting.
“Katherine?” I said, going on a hunch.
“What?”
“Tell me about Keith.”
“What do you want to know about Keith?”
“I’m just wondering why he got picked. Was he a target of opportunity? Or was he doing something that caused him to be targeted?”
Again she went into her contemplative mode. “Off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything.”
“No?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Because if I were to find out you were holding out on me, I’d probably get real pissed off.”
Those green eyes searched my face. “Do you have some reason to doubt me?”
I had a thousand reasons to doubt her. A million reasons. Hell, I couldn’t think of a single reason to trust anything she said. But in the interest of our newfound partnership, I thought it best to confine this discussion to the subject at hand.
“Only that in the embassy Keith claimed his specialty was suing the government. But he accompanied you in your interview with Bales, didn’t he?”
“He was along, yes,” she conceded. “But don’t give it any significance. He has a good legal mind so I wanted him along.”
“But you must admit it’s curious that an attorney whose specialty is civil suits is collecting evidence in a murder investigation.”
She smiled. “My specialty is civil rights narrowed down to homosexual suits. Look what I’m doing.”
And I had to admit she had a very good point. Anyway, I needed to go get some things done, like arrange for Imelda to have all our rooms and offices swept for bugs.
