“I don’t know no Herman Monk. Sounds like a geek. Don’t know him.”
That could be true. Simon said, “Monk was a loose end. He’s dead. You’re a loose end, too, Morrie. Just think about your lawyer for a moment. Who is he? Who sent him? Who’s paying his bill? Do you really think he’s going to try to get
“I hired him. He’s a real good friend, a drinking buddy. We watch the fights together down at Sam’s Sports Bar, you know, over on Cliff Street.”
Lily said, as she tapped her fingers on the Formica surface, split down the middle by bars, with Simon and Lily on one side, Morrie on the other, “He’s setting you up, Morrie. You too stupid to use your brain? You know he told the sheriff that he took your case pro bono?”
“I want a cigarette.”
“Don’t be a moron. You want to die, hacking up your lungs? He said he took you on for free, out of the goodness of his heart. I want you to just think about all this. What did your lawyer promise you?”
“He said I was getting out of here, today.”
“Yeah, we heard,” Simon said, and it was true, according to Lieutenant Dobbs. The judge had called and was prepared to set bail. “You know what’s going to happen then?”
“Yeah, I’m going to go get me a beer.”
“That’s possible,” Lily said. “I hope you really enjoy it, Morrie, because you’re going to be dead by morning. These people really hate loose ends.”
Morrie said, “Who did you say this Monk geek was?”
Lily said, “He was the curator of the museum where my grandmother’s paintings were displayed. He was part of the group who had four of the paintings copied, the originals replaced with the fakes. When it all came out, when it was obvious that things were unraveling, he was shot in the back. That’s why they wanted you to kill me. They were my paintings and here I am doing what they knew I’d do-stirring things up until I find out who stole my paintings. I wonder how long before they shoot you, Morrie.”
“I’m leaving town, first thing.”
“Good idea,” Simon said. “But I see two big problems for you. The first is that you’re still in jail. Your lawyer said he was going to get you out? Who’s going to pay the bail, Morrie, and that’s your second problem. Your pro bono lawyer? That’s possible, what with all the money from the people who hired you in the first place. So, let’s say you walk out of here, what are you going to do? Hide out in an alley and wait for them to kill you?”
Morrie believed him, Simon knew it in that moment. Simon waited a beat, then said, “Turns out I can solve both problems for you.”
“How?”
“Ms. Savich here will drop charges against you, we’ll get you out of here without your lawyer knowing about it. To sweeten the deal, I’ll give you five hundred bucks. That’ll get you far away from these creeps, give you a new start. In return you give me the name of who hired you.”
Morrie said, “Look, I’m going to sue her the minute I get out of here. Five hundred bucks? That’s jack shit.”
Simon’s gut was good. He knew he was going to get Morrie. Just one more nudge. He turned on the recorder in his jacket pocket. “You know, Morrie, Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA don’t really want me to cut any deal with you. I had to talk them into it. They want to take you to trial and throw your butt in jail for a long time. Since Lily hurt you pretty good, it’s more than your word against hers. You’d be dead meat, Morrie.”
It took only three more minutes of negotiation. Simon agreed to give Morrie Jones eight hundred dollars, Lily agreed to drop the charges, and Morrie agreed to give them a name.
“I want to see her sign papers and I want to see the money before I do anything.”
Lieutenant Dobbs and the DA weren’t pleased, but knew that Morrie was incidental compared to the person who’d hired him.
Lily, in the presence of Lieutenant Dobbs, an assistant DA, a detective, and two officers, signed that she was dropping the charges against one Morrie Jones, age twenty.
Once they were alone again, Morrie said, slouching back in his chair, “Now, big shot, give me the money before I say another word.”
Simon rose, pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and laid out the entire wad. There were eight one- hundred-dollar bills and a single twenty. “Glad you didn’t wipe me out completely, Morrie. I appreciate it. That twenty will buy Lily and me a couple of tacos.”
Morrie smirked as Simon started to slide the hundred-dollar bills through the space beneath the bars. “Tell me a story, Morrie.”
“I don’t exactly have a name. Hey, no, don’t take the money back. I got just as good as a name. Look, she called me. It was this woman and she had this real thick accent, real Southern, you know? Smooth and real slow. She didn’t give me her name, just Lily Frasier’s name. She described her, told me where she was staying and to get it done fast.
“I went right over to the bank, picked up the money, then I went to work.” He slid his eyes toward Lily. “It just didn’t quite work out the way I wanted.”
“That’s because you’re a wimp, Morrie.”
Morrie half-rose out of his chair. The jail guard standing against the wall immediately straightened. Simon raised a hand. “How much did this woman pay you to kill Lily?”
“She gave me a thousand for a down payment. Then she was to have five thousand to me when it was done and on the news.”
“This is not a good business, Simon.” She stared at Morrie. “I was only worth six thousand dollars?”
Morrie actually smiled. “That’s all. You know, I would have done it for less if I’d known you then.”
Simon realized that Lily was enjoying herself. She was having a really fine pissing contest with this young thug. He pressed his knee against her leg.
But she had one more line. “What I did to you I did for nothing.”
Simon just shook his head at her. “Morrie, which bank?”
“Give me the money first.”
Simon slid the money all the way through. Morrie’s hand slid over it, presto. He closed his young eyes for a moment, feeling the money like it was a lover’s flesh. “Wells Fargo,” he said, “the one just over on First Street and Pine. The money was there in my name.”
“You didn’t ask who had left the money waiting there for you?”
Morrie shook his head.
“Thanks, Morrie,” Lily said as she rose. “Lieutenant Dobbs thinks you’ll be out sometime this afternoon. He’s agreed not to tell your lawyer. My advice to you-get the hell out of Dodge. This time you don’t have to be afraid of me. The woman who hired you-chances are good she wants you dead, and she’s capable of doing it herself.”
“You know who she is?”
Lily said, “Oh yeah, we know. She’d eat you with her poached eggs for breakfast. Hey, what happened to the thousand bucks she gave you?”
Morrie’s eyes slid away. “None of your damned business.”
Lily laughed, shook her finger at him. “You pissed it away in a poker game, didn’t you?”
“No, dammit. It was pool.”
Clark Hoyt was waiting for them in Lieutenant Dobbs’s office. His arms were folded over his chest. He looked very odd. “I got a call from Savich. He was calling from Saint John’s, in Antigua, of all places, said to tell you that all hell will break loose in the media really soon now, but that he and Sherlock are okay. It seems that Tammy Tuttle got ahold of Marilyn Warluski and they’re gone. There was a big situation there at the airport. Savich called it a fiasco.”
“Antigua?” Simon said. “I guess he couldn’t tell us he was there.”
Lily said, shaking her head, “Dillon will not be a happy camper about this.”
Hoyt himself wondered what had happened, but he said only, “Savich didn’t give me any details, said he’d call again this evening. I told him where you guys are staying now. Okay, tell me who hired Morrie.”
“Yeah,” Lieutenant Dobbs said as he came into his own office to see the two civilians and the Fed. “Who was it?”
“It was my mother-in-law,” Lily said. “No doubt at all that it was Charlotte. She didn’t give Morrie her name,
