The Alibi (64 page)

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Authors: Sandra Brown

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under way."

"Very clever."

"I thought so," she said with a cheeky smile.

He nodded down at the revolver she had aimed at

him. "Is that it?"

"Of course not. Do you think I would be so stupid

as to use the same gun twice? When I returned the

one I used to shoot Pettijohn, I pilfered another. Just

in case."

"As we speak, Basset is spilling his guts. He's a repentant

man with a guilty conscience."

"It'll be my word against his. They'll never trace

these weapons to me. I didn't sign the log and neither

did he. Basset could be making up wicked stories

about me because he holds a grudge."

"Smilow asked you to go easy on Basset's daughter."

"And I did the first time. It's not my fault she was

busted again. Her hearing is scheduled in a few

weeks."

"What did you promise Basset?"

"That I'd be lenient in my recommendation to the

judge."

"Or?"

"Or sweet Amanda would get the book thrown at

her. It was up to him."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"When I'm forced."

"And you felt forced to kill Pettijohn?"

"He double-crossed me!" she exclaimed in a shrill

voice that Hammond had never heard before. Steffi

had lost touch with reality.

"I spied for him," she was saying. "Counseled him

on legal maneuvers that would snare his rivals but

leave him inside the law. Barely, but inside nonetheless.

He told me he was going to use the goods on

Preston to ruin both of you. Get you out of there com

 

pletely and install me in the top seat. But then he reneged."

Her eyes turned hard. "He saw a better use for Preston's

involvement, and that was to coerce you. He

thought he could use that as leverage to get you to

come around to his way of thinking. He thanked me

for my time and trouble, but asked why he should settle

for second best, when he could get the best lawyer

on his side."

"So you came here that afternoon to kill him."

"I was out of options, Hammond. I had played by

the rules and they weren't working for me. Since

joining the office, I had worked the hardest, strived the hardest, but you were going to get the job, just as

you'd gotten the last one.

"Pettijohn came along and offered me an advantage.

For once, I would be the one with the edge.

Then, when the reward was in sight, the son of a bitch

yanked his support out from under me.

"I had experienced disappointments before, but

none that crushing. Every time I looked at him, I

would be reminded of what a chump I'd been. A

gullible female, which is probably how he saw me. I

couldn't tolerate being that susceptible and having

him lord it over me. Something inside me snapped, I

guess you could say. I simply couldn't let him get

away with it.

"He broke the news to me over the telephone, but I

insisted on a face-to-face meeting. I showed up a few

minutes early for our appointment, and when I saw him sprawled on the floor, my first thought was that

someone had robbed me of the pleasure."

"Alex, maybe."

"I didn't know anything about Alex Ladd. Not

until that Daniels character gave us her description-- and I was sweating bullets when I faced him in that

hospital room. I was afraid he'd finger me to Smilow.

I hadn't seen him in the hotel, but I couldn't be certain

that he hadn't seen me. Anyway, when he described

Ladd, I couldn't believe my good fortune.

There was actually a suspect. And then when Trimble

turned up, I started believing in guardian angels," she

said with a laugh.

"You made the attempt on her life."

"That was a mistake. I shouldn't have trusted anyone

else with the job."

"Who was he?"

"Someone who drifted through the justice system

a few months ago. I had him on an assault and battery.

His lawyer pleaded him out. I thought that having

someone like him on standby might prove useful

one day--maybe I had a premonition that my alliance

with Pettijohn might end badly." She

shrugged.

"Anyway, I let the guy plead out of incarceration.

But I kept track of him. He was willing to slit her

throat for a measly hundred dollars. But he blew it.

Skipped town with the fifty I gave him as a down

payment. He didn't even report in to me that night."

She slapped her forehead with her palm. "Silly

me. I didn't connect your mugger with my assassin

until I discovered that Alex Ladd was alive and well."

"You were afraid she had seen you Saturday afternoon

in Pettijohn's suite."

"I thought it was a distinct possibility. From that

first interrogation, I sensed she was holding something

back, and was afraid that she had recognized

me and was waiting for the perfect moment to spring

her secret knowledge. I must admit I was rather taken

aback to discover that the secret she was harboring

was you. When did you meet her?"

He refused to answer.

"Oh, well." She sighed softly. "You're right. I

suppose it doesn't matter, although it shattered my

ego to know that you could so easily move from my

bed to hers. And, of course, I understand her attraction

to you. It wasn't hardship duty to sleep with

you. I would have even if Pettijohn hadn't suggested

pillow talk as a good source of information."

She hefted the pistol. "I don't hate you, Hammond,

although I'd be less than honest if I said I

didn't resent your achievements and the ease with

which you come by them. It's just that, now I've

come this far, you're the last obstacle. I'm sorry."

"Steffi--"

She fired the pistol into his chest.

 

Steffi turned and hurried across the parlor. She

pulled open the door. On the other side of it stood De

 

tective Mike Collins and two uniformed policemen,

pistols drawn.

"Hand over the weapon, Ms. Mundell," Collins

said. There was no underlying joke in his voice now.

One of the policemen stepped forward and took the

pistol from her loose grasp. "You okay?" Collins

asked.

Hammond was watching her face when she turned

her head, her mouth going slack with astonishment.

Kevlar had saved him, although he was going to have

a bitch of a bruise to go along with the other injuries

he had sustained this week.

"You tricked me?"

Collins was reciting her rights, but her attention

was on Hammond.

"I figured it out last night. Smilow and I had a conference

before daylight. I told him everything. Everything.

So we staged all this. I was pretending to

gather evidence against him, but actually he and I

have been working together today. He's the one who

suggested you might get worried when I shared leads

with you, leads that pointed to you. He urged me to

wear a wire. Also the vest. On both counts I'm glad I

took his advice."

She was practically bristling with hatred. He found

it hard to believe he'd ever been lovers with her. But

it was with a degree of sadness that he said, "I knew

you regarded me as your rival, Steffi, but I didn't

think you would try to kill me."

"You've always underestimated me, Hammond.

You've never given me enough credit. You never

thought I was as smart as you."

"Well, apparently you're not."

"I'm smart enough to know about your affair with

Alex Ladd," she shouted. "Don't even attempt denying

it, because I've got proof of your being in her bed

this week!"

Hammond hitched his chin at Collins, who turned

her around and nudged her through the open door.

Turning her head, she yelled at him over her shoulder,

"That's what I'll beat you with, Hammond. Your

affair with this woman. Talk about poetic justice!"

 

There was a soft laugh of self-deprecation behind

Alex's voice. "I was expecting you, but I didn't hear

you come in, Detective."

"We don't know who or when Steffi might strike.

I checked the back of the house and came in through

the rear door. That lock still isn't fixed. You should

have it repaired immediately."

"I've had more pressing matters on my mind this

week."

"Hell of a week."

"To say the least."

He knelt to help her pick up the scattered papers.

She thanked him as she gathered the materials back

into the folder.

"I couldn't help but overhear," he said. "Hammond

told you about Basset?"

"Yes."

"Pretty damn smart of Hammond to figure it out."

 

"But not long before you did. He told me that

when he shared his suspicion with you early this

morning, you admitted that it had crossed your mind

that Steffi might be involved."

 

"It had, but I didn't follow up. Frankly because I

was so glad Pettijohn was dead." He looked her in the

eye. "Dr. Ladd, I never really thought you were the

killer. I'm sorry about some of the questions."

 

She accepted the apology with a small nod. "It's

hard for us to back down once we've taken a stand. I

was a viable suspect, and you didn't want to be

wrong."

 

"More than that. I didn't want Hammond to be

right."

 

An awkward silence fell between them. It was relieved

when his cell phone chirped. "Smilow."

 

He listened. His face remained expressionless.

"I'm on my way." He disconnected. "Steffi shot

Hammond. He's okay," he said quickly. "But he got

her to admit on the wire that she killed Pettijohn.

She's in custody."

 

Alex didn't realize how anxious she had been until

pent-up tension ebbed out of her and she sank into a

chair. "Hammond's all right?"

 

"Perfectly."

 

"So it's over," she said softly.

 

"Not quite. He's holding a press conference in half

an hour. Can I offer you a lift?"

 

CHAPTER

39

 

Because the temporary Charleston County Judicial

Building had such limited space, Monroe

Mason had asked if his press conference could be

held downtown in city hall. His request had been

graciously granted.

Out of respect for the man who had served the

community so well for so long, many, who typically

rushed headlong toward the weekend at five o'clock

on Friday afternoon, had congregated to hear the formal

announcement of his retirement.

That's what they had come to hear.

They got more than they bargained for. A head

start on the weekend didn't seem such a sacrifice

when rumors began to circulate about what had transpired

in the same hotel suite where Lute Pettijohn

had been found dead less than a week ago. One of the

solicitor's own staff had been arrested for the murder.

The room was already crowded when Hammond

entered behind Mason and the rank and file of the

County Solicitor's Office. Even Deputy Solicitor

Wallis, looking gray and ravaged by chemotherapy,

had found the strength to attend. Only Stefanie

Mundell was absent as they took seats on the dais.

The first row of spectator seats was occupied by

reporters and cameramen. Behind them were three

rows reserved for city, county, and state officials, invited

clergymen, and assorted dignitaries. The remainder

of the folding chairs were for guests.

Among them were Hammond's parents. His

mother returned his hello nod with a cheerful little

wave. Hammond also acknowledged his father, but

Preston's visage remained as stony as those gracing

Mount Rushmore.

That morning, Hammond had called Preston with

the deal he had referenced to Bobby Trimble. It was

this: He would recommend to the attorney general

that no charges be brought against his father if Preston

would testify against Trimble.

Of course that was tantamount to Preston's admitting

to his own knowledge of the terrorist activities

that had taken place on Speckle Island. He had separated

himself from the venture, but not in time to relieve

him of culpability.

"That's the deal, Father. Take it or leave it."

"Don't issue me an ultimatum."

"You admit your wrongdoing, or you go to jail

denying it," Hammond had stated with resolve. "Take

the deal."

Hammond had given him seventy-two hours to

think it over and discuss it with his solicitor. He was

betting that his father would agree to his terms, an intuition

strengthened when Preston's hard stare wavered

and he looked away first.

Was it too much to hope that his father was experiencing a twinge of conscience? Although there

would always be chasms they couldn't cross, he

hoped they could find reconciliation on some level.

He wanted to be able to call him Dad again.

Davee was also there, looking like a movie star.

She blew him a kiss, but when a reporter poked a microphone

at her and asked for a comment, Hammond

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