A Game of Inches

by Webb Hubbell

  “Why?” I asked. “Prisons are full of ageing murderers.”

  “Men who murder professional women don’t last long in prison. No one in the business can afford to have his girls murdered without reacting in kind. It is the one thing an organization offers—protection. Even though the dead woman was working on her own, the business has to respond to her murder. I could not prevent that from happening even if I wanted to.”

  “What if Billy didn’t kill the girl? What if the bodyguard and the other girls are still in danger?”

  “I told him you didn’t think Billy did it. He thinks you’re dreaming. But he agreed to keep an open mind about the possibility that both he and the girls are still in danger.”

  “If he finds the bodyguard or the other girls, may I speak with them?”

  “Probably not.”

  “How can I prove the papers coming to my office are those of the dead girl?”

  “The birthmark the press keeps talking about is actually a brand she tried unsuccessfully to have removed. The information about the attempt to remove it will be included in the same delivery.”

  “I take it that this information is not coming from your former colleague.”

  “You are correct.”

  It would have been unwise to press him further. For some reason Novak had taken an interest, that was enough. I wasn’t quite sure why and wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  “Thank you for your help. How can I repay you?”

  “Jack, you have good instincts. But be very careful your instincts do not betray you. That young woman may have been a professional, but she did not deserve such a brutal end. Her murderer must be made to pay for his actions. Keep digging, and you may discover some information you will be willing to share with me. Let’s just say we are both running a tab, and we will keep in touch.”

  I was dancing with the devil, but if it meant saving Billy’s life it might be worth it. I just had to make sure that Micki didn’t discover my dancing partner.

  I emailed Clovis the information that the deceased was a working girl who frequented the Mayflower bar. He could figure out my source on his own. I also told him the other three might have been for hire as well and were currently missing, along with their bodyguard. Details to follow. He called immediately.

  “I’m not going to ask where you got that information. Don’t let Micki find out, that’s all I’ve got to say. Here’s the question: If she frequented the Mayflower Bar why has no one come forward to identify her? The bartender had to have known her at a minimum.”

  “That’s what you have to find out.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m on it, but don’t get too optimistic.” Clovis cautioned.

  “Why not? It could blow the case wide open. Somebody hired a woman to set Billy up.”

  “Or Billy hired her after one too many drinks at the bar.” Clovis repeated the same assumption Novak had made.

  “Or maybe somebody did hire her to set Billy up for blackmail or for a tabloid story, and things went terribly wrong. She might have agreed to blackmail Billy after a night of sex, but I doubt if she agreed to be murdered. You still have Billy in bed with a murdered woman. It’s just as much a crime to murder a hooker as a cheerleader.” Clovis rightfully admonished me.

  Of course, he was right. I had fallen into that trap of presuming a call girl asked for whatever she received. I had learned during the Stewart case how often working girls were victims of terrible abuse. I ought to have my butt kicked.

  “Let’s assume all the girls were hired to set Billy up, Clovis continued. Maybe to get him kicked out of football, or to blackmail him or the Lobos, or a million other possibilities. So far nothing explains why or how that girl came to be found dead in Billy’s bed. No self-respecting pimp is going to let one of his girls get killed, no matter how much he is paid. I’m afraid the news that she was a working girl at the Mayflower bar only makes it worse for Billy, not better.”

  So much for any optimism.

  “Nevertheless, let’s find out all we can about who she was. I’ll have a name pretty soon. And you’re right, why has no one come forward to identify her? The Mayflower Bar is a classy place; a lady of the evening had to stand out.” I said.

  “She probably dressed carefully and wore a wig. Don’t be fooled, Jack: classy bars are where girls find the best customers.”

  Clovis changed subjects.

  “I’ll have a full report to you tonight on the Mandarin visit. Seems that Billy’s agent had a high old time over the weekend. I’m running down his girlfriend. She works on the Hill, so she’ll be easy to find. Turns out the four corporate types went to the bar after the banquet and continued to drink. I’ll have their names tomorrow. The bartender says three women joined them later, and they almost closed the bar down. They could be the same three. Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

  “Yup, most certainly would be.”

  My mind was racing, and I fed Clovis a list of things to find out, even though I knew he was probably two steps ahead of me, listening just to humor me. I closed my instructions with one last one.

  “Be sure to tell Micki what you discovered.”

  “Micki isn’t back yet, but I will when she arrives. We’re having dinner tonight at Johnny’s. It’s better than meeting every afternoon at the office. It would look too much like I was working for her.”

  “Good thinking.” I said, and hung up thinking that Micki should have been back from the jail by now. A chill went up my back.

  Where was Micki?

  43

  IT WASN’T THAT late for Micki not to have checked in, but Micki had gone missing once before, and it hadn’t ended well. Naturally I was a little nervous. I also was curious to know if I had a partner or not. I resisted the urge to call—no news was probably good news.

  While I waited on her, I gave myself a little lecture. In the Stewart case, I had learned more than I wanted to know about sex trafficking in America. Walter and Maggie’s foundation spends a great deal of money funding non-profits which are dedicated to education, prevention, and helping the victims of this national tragedy. How could I have just assumed these women were trying to frame Billy? They were probably victims of someone else’s plot, pawns controlled by some master using heroin and fear to ensure their cooperation. If I needed any further evidence of this, the woman’s body in Billy’s bed was proof enough.

  I also had to curb my enthusiasm about the woman’s identity and occupation. If she had been working the Mayflower, the logical conclusion was that she and Billy met in the bar and headed upstairs. Her occupation in fact would probably work against Billy. Everyone would presume he had been sexually frustrated or they had argued about her fee and he lost it. The prosecutor would have a field day with me if I argued she was there to frame Billy.

  The phone buzzed again. I was relieved to recognize Micki’s number. She didn’t waste any time.

  “I just talked to Clovis, and you tell Novak I still think he’s pond scum.”

  “He told you I talked to Novak?”

  “No, he told me he didn’t know your source, but I’m no fool. Where else would you find what you did about the victim?” She didn’t sound that angry.

  “So go ahead and get the lecture out of the way.” I was ready to take a verbal beating. Good thing this was a phone call.

  “What are you talking about? I don’t care who you talk to as long as you get the information you need. Your source is questionable and an ass-hole, but we can’t bother with niceties if we’re going to save Billy from a life in prison or worse. Frankly, Jack, I don’t think he’ll last a week in prison before someone kills him.”

  “That’s what Novak said.” I reported.

  “I hate to agree with him on anything, but this time he’s right.”

  “I take it we’re partners once again?” I asked.

  I could feel her smiling into the phone. “Of course. You knew once I met the prosecutor, talked to Marshall, and met with Hopper I couldn’t walk a
way.”

  “Tell me about it.” I was tickled pink to have her back.

  “First, the prosecutor, Constance Montgomery, is one cool customer. She said all the right things, agreed to turn over her entire file immediately, but you and I both know that won’t happen. She’ll give me her file, all right, but not all of what she has. She’ll be free to leak the remaining info however she likes, piece by piece. Since she’s given me her file, she can claim to a Judge that I must be the source of any leaks. Meanwhile, the press prints her leaks day by day, piece by piece, tainting the jury pool before even one juror is called to the box.”

  “I’ll try to find out what I can about her. I have to admit I was impressed the one time I met her; she seemed very confident. Her confidence shook Marshall.”

  “You were impressed with her legs.” Micki was back to her old self.

  She did have good legs, I admit. But as Micki once said about my friend Sam Pagano after he was elected prosecutor, “He’s a prosecutor now, and a girl has to have some standards.” I felt the same way about female prosecutors, with a few exceptions.

  “Marshall gave me everything I think you already know regarding Billy’s background and lack of family. Just in case he left something out I’ll send everything over after I write it up in the morning. I don’t think it will be of much use. Too bad—the violence and abuse Billy endured during his childhood will work against him. What a tough story!”

  I wanted to ask her if Billy had told her what he had learned about his real family, but I didn’t want to break her train of thought.

  “Billy was everything you and Marshall represented him to be. If it weren’t for his fingerprints all over the knife, the girl beside him in the bed when he woke up, and the doors locked from the inside, I’d say we might have a chance because he comes across as honest and innocent.”

  “Doors locked on the inside?”

  “A little nugget from Constance in our ‘candid’ conversation.”

  “That’s not good.” I responded. Then it occurred to me that all hotel doors lock when you leave the room. We needed some clarification on this.

  “No, nor is the fact that Billy doesn’t remember a thing despite no evidence of drugs in his system.”

  “Another nugget from Constance.” I asked.

  “Yes, and there’s one more—his semen.”

  “What semen?” I asked.

  “Billy’s semen. It was found on the sheets and on the girl’s legs, but none was found in her vagina. Constance said it was a sign that Billy had prematurely ejaculated. Apparently the autopsy found no evidence she and Billy had intercourse, at least as it is commonly understood.”

  “None of this works to Billy’s advantage.” I said.

  “Yeah, and now that she’s given me these tidbits, I bet the damaging details will be in the media in the next couple of days, if not tonight.”

  “I won’t bet against that.” Prosecutors hold all the cards in dealing with the media during a high profile case. I wouldn’t be surprised if they held seminars on how to manipulate the press.

  “With all the bad news, what convinced you to represent Billy? Nothing you learned today points to his innocence.” I didn’t want to talk her out of representing Billy, but I was curious.

  “True, I didn’t hear a thing today that makes me think Hopper isn’t a Ted Bundy. The only thing he has going for him is that both you and Marshall firmly believe in his innocence. I can understand Marshall, he’s Billy’s surrogate father. He has to believe in Billy. It’s you I had to figure out.”

  “And what did you conclude?” I asked.

  “It’s what you taught me before. It’s too perfect. Airtight. All the clues point to Hopper; not one thing is out of place. There has to be something in the physical evidence we’re missing. We have to find the loose end.” She had learned, and I smiled.

  “Exactly.”

  “What’s next, partner?”

  “You go to dinner with Clovis and Stella—get a full report on their day. Make sure Maggie’s in the loop as well. I’ve got lots to read and even more to think about. Let’s both get a good night’s sleep and be ready to hit the ground running tomorrow morning. Hopefully, I’ll have come up with a working game plan by then.”

  “Wish you could join us,” she said.

  “Me, too, but Barker’s makes a pretty good crab cake. It’s not Johnny’s, but it’ll do.”

  “If I know you I bet there is a long shower in your future.” Micki knew a great deal about my shower thoughts.

  “It’s a possibility, but it’s not the same when I’m by myself,” I shot back.

  She laughed. “Goodnight, Jack.” Larry was a lucky man.

  * * *

  WEDNESDAY

  * * *

  April 27, 2016

  44

  THE NEXT MORNING, I actually took advantage of the exercise room at Barker’s. I had a lot of energy to work off. I built up a sweat using the rowing machine, elliptical, and stationary bicycle and enjoyed the luxury of the shower attached to the gym. I thought about relaxing in the large hot tub, but I still had my sights on someone else’s tub and companionship. A bunch of sweaty guys was not what I had in mind.

  I say the luxury of a gym shower and I mean it. My attitude comes from many years of playing sports, especially baseball. Lingering in a high-pressure, hot shower after an exhausting practice—it didn’t get much better, and had become the origin of my “shower thoughts.”

  Over a breakfast omelet, I thought about the upcoming day. Micki was going to enter her appearance as counsel to Billy Hopper. Last night I had emailed her a list of questions I thought the press might ask. I had additional thoughts for Clovis, Maggie, and Stella, and I’d call each of them, taking care not to get them so busy that whoever got suspicious.

  Walter was coming to Barker’s for lunch, and I looked forward to his company. Barb the bartender was cute, but becoming a bit too friendly. Hopefully, I would receive the packages from Novak this morning. It was a huge relief that Micki didn’t mind my reaching out to him. Well, maybe “didn’t mind” was a bit too strong.

  Except for the loneliness, staying at Barker’s wasn’t such a bad deal. Maybe I should go ahead and sell my house, live permanently at Barker’s like those old clubmen in England. Then again Carol couldn’t drop in with pizza and watch a ball game, and where would Beth stay when she came home. I decided to give Susan a call today and ask her to send me some information on what might be available inside the beltway.

  I called Maggie first.

  “Miss me?” I asked.

  “Not really. Without you, the press are no longer interested, a nice change of pace.”

  “Don’t expect that to last. Micki will be grilled this morning. Once they find out she’s working out of our offices, they’ll be back.”

  “They don’t normally camp out in front of lawyer’s offices.”

  “I hope you’re right, but you can’t count on it. I’m not as worried about the press as someone catching on that Clovis and Stella are coming by every day. I hope they are being careful.”

  “Oh, they are. In fact, I have no idea how they are getting in the building. They go in and out without leaving a trace. It’s driving Rose crazy.”

  “Speaking of Rose, the phones are likely to ring off the walls after Micki enters her appearance this morning,” I warned.

  “I’ve already warned her and told her to simply transfer them to me. I’m pretty sure she’d quit if I weren’t here,” she laughed.

  “If you weren’t there, I’d quit,” I responded.

  “That’s tempting.”

  I ignored her. “Have we received anything from Gina with the Lobos?”

  “Yes, we spoke by phone yesterday. She was very pleasant and most cooperative. It will take her a few days to get all the information together. I told her it would be fine to send it in stages. The first package should arrive this afternoon, and I’ll get it to Barker’s.”

  “Take ca
re my name isn’t on the package. And did you ask her about billing?” I thought she would balk at paying us before we did any work.

  “Don’t worry—no identifying marks! And she beat me to it. She asked for wiring instructions for the first quarter’s retainer. The first three months fee hit our account this morning. Quite a refreshing reaction from a new client.”

  Surely she wouldn’t have been so cooperative if Red was part of the plot. Nothing added up.

  Maggie told me that Micki had just texted that she had entered her appearance with no problems and would hold a brief press conference at 10:00 a.m. Apparently it would be covered live on ESPN. I snickered at the reality of a sports network covering a high profile criminal case. On further consideration, I realized they do it all the time. Sports figures were celebrities, and ESPN covered their sins and misdeeds both on an off the field. I went back to my room to watch, saying a silent prayer that Micki had read the questions I sent over.

  “Ms. Lawrence, isn’t a bit unusual for an Arkansas lawyer to be hired to represent a sports figure like Billy Hopper? What is your connection to the accused?”

  I had to admit Micki looked fantastic in a royal blue jacket and slim skirt.

  “Mr. Hopper is very close to Little Rock’s Fitzgerald family. Judge Fitzgerald asked me to come to DC and meet with the accused. I met with him yesterday, and as a result, I am now his counsel. I entered my appearance today and met with the lead prosecutor yesterday.”

  “What happened to Jack Patterson? He met with Billy and led us to believe he would represent the accused. You usually work together. Is he going to be involved?”

  This was the delicate question I worried about. Micki shouldn’t lie to the press. At the same time she needed to convince whomever that I was not working with her.

  “I understand that Jack did meet with the accused last week as an accommodation to Judge Fitzgerald. You are right that we worked on two cases together in Arkansas, and we remain friends. But as you know his practice in DC is limited to antitrust law. He has been kind enough to offer me office space during this case, but he is dealing with a family matter and has a full caseload at the moment.”