The Perfect Alibi

by Phillip Margolin

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Doug Armstrong smiled when his secretary ushered Robin into his office a little before five in the afternoon. “Hi, Robin. What’s up?”

  “I haven’t seen you in a while, and I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”

  “Thanks for asking. I’m about ninety percent.”

  “Still having trouble remembering what happened on the evening Frank was murdered?”

  Doug stopped smiling and shook his head. “That’s still a blank. I keep trying, but…” He shook his head again.

  “I might be able to help you fill in the blanks.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I know who killed Frank.”

  “Really?”

  Robin nodded.

  “That’s great! Who killed him?”

  “We both know the answer to that question.”

  Doug looked puzzled, and Robin flashed a sad smile. “You can stop pretending. I know you murdered your best friend and I know why.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You were always the most likely suspect. You were alone with Frank when he was killed, and your blood was under his fingernail. But everyone knew you and Frank were best friends, and you’d been in a great mood when you got back from Seattle, so everyone gave you a pass because no one could think of a motive so strong that you would kill Frank.”

  “That’s because I would never kill Frank. I owed him everything.”

  “And he was going to take everything from you, wasn’t he? Quite by accident, Frank had discovered a horrible secret—something you’ve been hiding for years, something that would destroy your world.”

  “I don’t know where you’re going with this, Robin. I don’t have any deep, dark secrets.”

  “When did you graduate from law school, Doug?”

  “Nineteen eighty-eight.”

  “That’s not true, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Frank went to New York to negotiate the Voss case with Tyler Harrison. While he was in Harrison’s office, he noticed that Harrison had graduated from Sheffield University’s law school in 1988. You’re the only other person Frank knew who had gone to Sheffield, so he told Harrison that his law partner, Doug Armstrong, had been a classmate. And that’s when Harrison destroyed the myth you’d been promoting all these years. He told Frank the truth.”

  Armstrong looked directly at Robin, his mouth set in a grim line. “And what is the truth, Robin?”

  “You flunked out of law school, Doug. I know that for a fact. I checked with the law school alumni association. Your diploma is a forgery. I’m guessing that you moved to Oregon because you believed that no one in this state would know anything about Sheffield University. You lied when you said you passed the Oregon Bar exam. I’ve looked for your name on every list of applicants who applied to take or passed the bar exam from 1988 on. Your name isn’t on any of the lists. You never passed, because you never took it.

  Doug stared at Robin in a way that made her recall the old cliché, “If looks could kill…”

  “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m mistaken?” Robin asked.

  “This is your story, Robin. Go on. It sounds interesting.”

  “You know, it’s amazing. Once you start practicing, everyone assumes that you graduated from a law school and passed the bar exam. No one ever challenges you or is even interested. There have been any number of cases over the years of people who falsely claimed to be attorneys and fooled everyone for years.

  “Frank believed you when you told him your tale of woe in that tavern the first time you met, and once you started appearing in court, everyone assumed you were a lawyer. But you’ve been pretending all this time.

  “Practicing law without a license is a criminal offense. I’m betting that’s what Frank told you when you went to his office the night you returned from Seattle. I’m guessing that you begged him to keep your secret, but Frank is known for being very ethical and he must have told you that he couldn’t do that. You knew your world would end once the cat was out of the bag, so you grabbed that sculpture, smashed Frank’s head in, and killed your best friend.”

  “Even if what you say is true,” Armstrong said. “I can never be prosecuted for Frank’s murder. Thanks to you, the murder charges have been dismissed with prejudice.”

  “That’s true, but you can still be charged with Tyler Harrison’s murder.”

  “What makes you think I killed Harrison?”

  “I couldn’t figure out why you went through this charade of having amnesia. If you had gone to the party for your associate and said that Frank was coming later, you would never have been a suspect in Frank’s murder. You would have had the perfect alibi. Then I realized that you had to disappear so you could drive to New York in Frank’s car and kill Tyler Harrison.”

  “Why would I murder a New York attorney I’d never met?”

  “Come on, Doug. Don’t do this.”

  “No, Robin. I’m really curious.”

  “You knew that Harrison would hear about Frank’s murder the next time he called him about the Voss case. Once that happened, there was a chance that he would tell the police that you never graduated from law school. That would reveal your motive to murder Frank, which no one could figure out otherwise. You couldn’t take that chance.

  “But, you had a problem: How would you get to New York without anyone knowing? You couldn’t fly or take any other form of public transportation, because that would leave a paper trail. That’s when you remembered that Frank’s car was in the garage. Driving to New York and back would take days, and that presented another problem. How could you disappear for the time it took to drive to New York in Frank’s car, murder Harrison, and drive back to Portland? Amnesia was the answer.”

  “Those are several clever deductions. Hercule Poirot would have been proud of you. Unfortunately, there’s no way to prove I killed anyone in New York.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Did you stop for gas? You must have. Did the gas station have a surveillance camera? You must have gotten food. Can a clerk identify you? This is the age of surveillance, Doug. There are eyes in the sky that see everything. And you’ll still face criminal charges once I tell the authorities that you’ve never been an attorney, which will destroy you.”

  “Are you going to do that? You’re my attorney.”

  “Was your attorney.”

  “So, you’re going to go to the police?”

  Robin shook her head. She looked sad. “I like you, Doug. Everyone likes you. So, I’m going to give you the opportunity to turn yourself in.” Robin stood. “Get yourself a good attorney and have her negotiate a deal. Maybe she can even convince Vanessa to keep the fact that you’ve been lying about being a lawyer secret so you can keep your dignity.”

  “I’ll give that suggestion serious thought.”

  “Don’t think too long. If I haven’t heard by tomorrow from you or your attorney that you’ve confessed, I’m going to the police with everything I know.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  The meeting with Doug Armstrong had drained Robin, and she was exhausted when she got home. She fixed supper, watched TV, and waited. At eleven, she turned off the set, turned out all the lights in her apartment, and went into the bedroom. At one in the morning, her doorbell rang.

  Robin walked to the front door and looked through the peephole. When she saw who was at her door, she started to open it. As soon as the door began to open, Doug pulled out Frank Nylander’s Glock.

  “Freeze!” screamed Jeff, who had been hiding in the stairwell.

  Doug swung toward Jeff, and Robin smashed her fist into Doug’s gun hand, moving the barrel the inch she needed to force the bullet to go into the floor. Doug was turning back toward Robin when she buried her fist in his solar plexus. The blow drove the wind out of Armstrong. He dropped the Glock and collapsed in the hallway.

  Robin kicked the gun away just as Jeff appeared beside her with his gun drawn. “Bag th
e Glock and call Carrie,” Robin said as she knelt next to Armstrong. “You were going to kill me, weren’t you, Doug? Attempted murder is going to be easy to prove with two witnesses and one big fat motive.”

  Armstrong didn’t say anything. When Jeff was satisfied that Armstrong had caught his breath, he pulled him to his feet and cuffed him. Doug stared at the floor as Robin and Jeff escorted him inside the apartment.

  No one said anything until Carrie, Roger Dillon, Vanessa Cole, and two uniforms arrived twenty minutes later.

  “Damn it, Robin,” Carrie said after Robin explained what had happened, “Armstrong could have shot you.”

  “Unlike Blaine Hastings, Doug is soft and no athlete. I was counting on slow reflexes and a lack of conditioning. Plus, Jeff had the drop on him, and Jeff is a very good shot.”

  “It was still irresponsible.”

  Robin pulled up her sweatshirt to reveal a bulletproof vest. “I’ve been wearing this ever since I met with Doug at his office.

  “What if he’d shot you in the head?”

  “Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “You would never have let me hold myself out as bait, but this was the only way to get Frank Nylander’s Glock, the evidence you need to connect Armstrong to the murders of Tyler Harrison and Rex Kellerman. So, feel free to say thank you at any time.”

  “I agree with Carrie. You are an idiot,” Vanessa said, “but thank you.”

  * * *

  The officers escorted Doug Armstrong out of the apartment, and Vanessa and Carrie left shortly after. Robin shut the door and walked toward the bedroom. She didn’t look happy.

  “What’s the matter?” Jeff asked.

  “I know I shouldn’t, but I feel awful. I really liked Doug, and I can’t imagine what this will do to his wife.”

  “Tyler Harrison and Frank Nylander had wives, too.”

  Robin sighed. “You’re right.”

  “Even though I agree with Carrie that you’re an idiot, you’ve convinced me that you had to do what you did. Without the Glock, there’s no case against Doug for killing Rex, and New York would never be able to prove Doug killed Tyler Harrison.”

  “I know. It’s just that Doug had this great life, and so did Frank Nylander. Now everything is in ruins because of a one-in-a-million coincidence.”

  “He lied to everyone for years,” Jeff said.

  “But he was a good lawyer. He proved that over and over.”

  “There are rules, Robin. Our society depends on a respect for the law. We need to know that attorneys are educated and qualified. That’s why we have a requirement that lawyers graduate from an accredited law school and pass the bar exam. We don’t throw out all the rules because one phony lawyer does a good job.”

  “Do you know how many lawyers don’t live up to the ethics of the profession and how many incompetents graduate from a law school and pass the bar? Doug did everything right, even if he didn’t graduate from law school or pass the bar.”

  “Will remembering that Douglas Armstrong murdered Frank Nylander, Tyler Harrison, and Rex Kellerman, and was prepared to kill you, help you get over your post-arrest depression?” Jeff asked.

  “Yeah, there is that.”

  “You liked Doug, and it made you feel good to save him when Rex went after him,” Jeff said. “Now you know that Rex was right all along. You were duped, and it’s hard for you to accept the fact that lovable Doug Armstrong is really a liar and a cold-blooded killer. Armstrong was wearing a mask all these years, and we’re lucky you ripped it off.”

  “I guess.”

  “There’s no guessing about it, so cheer up, and let’s get some sleep. We’re going to be spending a lot of time at the police station tomorrow, and I, for one, want to have a clear head when the cops grill us.”

  Robin wrapped her arms around Jeff. “I’m too wound up to sleep.”

  Jeff shook his head. “Does having someone try to shoot you always make you horny?”

  “I’m two for two, so I’d say there’s a good chance it does.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  “Hello, Herschel,” Carrie Anders said. “I have good news for you.”

  “I have some news for you, too.”

  “Oh?”

  “You first.”

  “Okay. We’ve solved the Tyler Harrison murder. An Oregon lawyer killed him, Frank Nylander, and Rex Kellerman. We have him in custody for the Portland murders.”

  “So, Norcross had nothing to do with Harrison’s and Nylander’s murders?”

  “No.”

  “That’s very interesting.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll tell you after you tell me how you figured out who killed Harrison.”

  Detective Jacobs listened quietly while Carrie explained how Robin Lockwood figured out that Douglas Armstrong had killed Tyler Harrison.

  “Has Armstrong confessed?” Jacobs asked.

  “No. He lawyered up, but thanks to Robin, we have the Glock that was used to kill Harrison and Kellerman, and we found a surveillance photo of Armstrong at a truck stop three-quarters of the way to Manhattan. So, we can give you everything you need to establish means, motive, and opportunity. I’ll send everything to you as soon as you send me your paycheck for this month for doing all your work for you.”

  “The money should go to Robin Lockwood.” Jacobs chuckled. “This is like one of those TV shows where the clueless cops are shown up by the brilliant amateur.”

  Carrie laughed. “I guess you’re right. So, what’s your news?”

  “Ivar Gorski has disappeared. No one has seen him since our visit. And there’s something else. I think you convinced Gorski that Norcross had Tyler Harrison murdered and was going to go after him, because someone shot and killed Marvin Turnbull, Norcross’s CEO.”

  “Damn. Any leads on where Gorski’s gone?”

  “No. He hasn’t used his passport, but we’ve done some digging, and he’s got ties to the Russian Mafia—so he may be anywhere by now.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  Robin was working on a brief in the Oregon Court of Appeals when her receptionist told her that Randi Stark wanted to see her.

  “Good morning, Randi,” Robin said when Stark was seated across from her in her office. “How are you feeling?”

  “Really good.”

  “School’s going well?”

  “Yeah. I just got some grades back, and I aced three of my four tests.”

  “And you’re sleeping well? No more nightmares?”

  “Well, yeah, I’m still having trouble sleeping because of Blaine,” Randi said.

  “Are you seeing someone who can help with that, one of the therapists I suggested?”

  “No. They’re expensive. When the case is over, I’ll try to get help if I’m still having problems.”

  “You’ll definitely be able to afford it. So, why did you want to talk to me?”

  “Annie told me what you said to her when you two met. She was really upset.”

  “What upset her?”

  “You asked her if we faked the rape.”

  “I told her what Blaine’s lawyer might argue.”

  “Why would he argue that?”

  “You said that you found out about the party at the Oregon–PSU game from boys on the PSU team who played on your high school’s team.”

  “That sounds right.”

  “They’re the same boys who invited Blaine Hastings to the party. I know that because Jeff talked to them. They said they told you Blaine was going to be at the party.”

  “What if they did?”

  “You told me that you didn’t know Blaine would be at the party.”

  “I guess I forgot.”

  “When Blaine attacked me in the parking garage, he said the DNA evidence in his case had been rigged. I got the impression that he was implying that he got the idea for his scam from you.”

  “That’s ridiculous. How would I know how to
do something like that?”

  “A nursing student would know all about DNA and what it can do. You’re not stupid, Randi. You told me your GPA, remember. I think you’re quite capable of coming up with a plan to frame Blaine.”

  Randi studied Robin for a moment. Then she leaned forward. “After Annie told me about your meeting, I researched the attorney–client privilege. It’s pretty powerful. I even read about a case where a client told his lawyers that he’d murdered a person, and they couldn’t tell anyone even though an innocent man was in prison for the murder. That was really awful.” Randi looked directly at her attorney. “I definitely did not frame Blaine, but from what I read, if I did tell you I set him up, you and your investigator couldn’t tell anyone that Blaine is innocent. Is that right?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Even if I did frame Blaine—which I didn’t—you shouldn’t get upset. He deserves to be in jail.”

  “No one should be in jail for a crime they didn’t commit.”

  “I agree. Ryan should never have been in jail. He wouldn’t have been if Blaine hadn’t framed him.”

  “Is this revenge for Ryan?”

  “If I did frame Blaine, which I didn’t, it would be justice for Ryan. But it would also be justice for me. Did anyone ever tell you why Ryan fought with Blaine?”

  “Blaine insulted you and called you a slut.”

  “Yeah, he did after Ryan accused him of raping me.”

  “What?”

  “I was pretty wild in high school. I had fake ID and I’d go to some pretty dicey bars. One night, I was with Ryan at one of them and we ran into Blaine. He came on to me and I blew him off. He couldn’t take that, so he followed me into the parking lot when I went for a smoke.”

  Randi paused and looked at Robin. Her jaw quivered and her eyes teared up. She took a breath. “Have you ever been raped?”

  “No.”