The Perfect Alibi

by Phillip Margolin

“That’s good, because you never forget it. Every time I have sex, I have to block out that bastard’s face.”

  Randi took another breath. “He beat me and raped me in an alley. Ryan found me and took me home. The next day, he went after Blaine, and Blaine made sure Ryan went to jail to shut him up.”

  Again, Randi took a breath. “My conscience is clear. Blaine raped me and he’s in prison for rape. And, by the way, I lied about the nightmares. Since the judge put that animal in a cage where he belongs, I’ve been sleeping like a baby.

  “So, Robin, where do we go from here? Because, if you’re not interested in representing me, I’m sure there are plenty of lawyers who would like a percentage of a multimillion-dollar verdict.”

  * * *

  Robin was working the heavy bag with so much fury that she attracted Barry McGill’s attention.

  “Who you pounding on?” McGill asked.

  Robin wrenched around, her fist cocked. “What?”

  McGill nodded at the bag. “Who’s that supposed to be?”

  Robin dropped her fist. “Client trouble,” she answered.

  “Like the kind you had with Willis Goins?”

  “Worse. There’s someone in prison who might be serving time for something he didn’t do.”

  “You sure the guy in prison is innocent?”

  “He is and he isn’t. It’s complicated.”

  “Tell the DA.”

  “I can’t. I’m forbidden by law to reveal anything a client tells me or anything I learn while I’m investigating the case. The attorney–client privilege has me handcuffed.”

  “That’s got to weigh on you.”

  Robin’s shoulders sagged. “Honestly, Barry, it’s tearing me up.”

  McGill nodded at the heavy bag. “I can see that. Those bags are expensive.”

  Robin flashed a sad smile. “Sorry.”

  McGill shook his head. “I don’t envy you. When I was boxing, I could take care of my problems with a left hook.”

  “The law isn’t as simple as boxing.”

  “I get that. Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” He pointed at the bag. “Go easy on my friend.”

  As soon as McGill walked away, Robin squared up, but her anger had ebbed while she was talking with Barry and she didn’t feel like working out anymore. After a few more halfhearted swings at the heavy bag, Robin headed for the locker room.

  * * *

  Robin didn’t know what to do, but there was someone she knew who might. As soon as she was home, Robin checked the time in Athens and called the hotel where Regina Barrister was staying. Stanley Cloud answered the phone.

  “Hi, Judge, is Regina there?”

  “Yeah. We’re just getting ready to go out.”

  “I’ve got a problem at work and I hoped she could advise me on what to do. Do you think she’s up for that?”

  “Her meds have been working pretty well, so I think she’ll be able to help you. Let me get her.”

  “How’s Greece?” Robin asked a minute later when Regina took the call.

  “We toured the islands. It was wonderful. Santorini is the most romantic spot on earth.”

  Robin laughed.

  “Stanley says you have a problem at work.”

  “This is attorney–client stuff, so you can’t discuss it with anyone, including Stanley.”

  “We’re still law partners, and I still remember my ethics rules. So, shoot.”

  Robin told her about the Hastings case and Randi’s confession that she had framed Hastings.

  “But he did rape her in high school, and I believe that Hastings framed Ryan and coerced or paid his friends to lie. And that may have led to Ryan’s death,” Robin told Regina. “And he probably raped Julie Angstrom in eighth grade and other women we don’t know about.”

  “You’ve got a very interesting dilemma, don’t you?”

  “You hit the nail directly on the head. What should I do?”

  “Nothing. You can’t disclose what Stark told you. And did she really tell you anything? She never admitted to framing Blaine, did she?”

  Robin thought about that. “No,” she said a few moments later. “She kept saying that she did not frame him.”

  “A bad person is in jail, where he belongs. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.”

  “I can’t keep representing Randi. Not now.”

  “Probably not.”

  Robin was quiet, and Regina let her think.

  “You’ve been a big help. Go enjoy Athens and send more postcards.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  Marsha took her seat on the other side of the glass from Doug. She hadn’t slept well in weeks. The only way she could get any rest was if she took medication. And she’d lost weight. Doug stared at her for a few moments. Then he raised the receiver that was attached to the concrete wall on his side of the noncontact visiting room.

  “I’m so sorry,” Doug said. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

  Marsha stared at them, at a loss for what to say.

  “I did it for us, Marsha. I did it because I love you and I couldn’t lose you.”

  “You … you killed three people,” she said.

  “I killed Rex Kellerman because of what he did to you and tried to do to me.”

  “What did Frank do? He was your best friend. How many times have you told me that you owed him everything?”

  “Frank would have ruined our lives,” Doug said. “I begged him to let it lie. I reminded him of everything we’d built together, but he said I had to go to the bar and tell them. I would have been disgraced and disbarred. We would have been sued by every client whose case we lost. We would have had to give up our home, all of our savings. And I could have gone to prison for pretending to be a lawyer. Worst of all, I would have lost you.”

  “I would never have deserted you, Doug. I love you. I would have stood by you.”

  “You say that now.”

  “I’m here for you now.”

  Doug looked down. “I don’t want you to be here for me. I want you to file for divorce. I’ve thought about this a lot, Marsha. You’re young, you’re beautiful and smart. I don’t want you wasting your life out of a misguided sense of loyalty.”

  Doug looked through the glass. Marsha had never seen anyone look as sad as Doug.

  “This is our reality now,” he said. “I’m never getting out of prison, not ever. I don’t want you sitting by yourself in some cheap apartment for the rest of your life, waiting for the next visiting day at the Oregon State Penitentiary. You have to think of me as if I died, because it will be the same thing.”

  Doug choked up. “I ruined my life thirty years ago when I made my decision to lie about graduating from law school,” Doug said when he regained his composure. “I couldn’t admit that I’d failed, and I never imagined that there would be consequences. I fooled myself then, but I’m facing reality now, and you have to do the same thing.”

  Marsha looked sick.

  “You have to leave me. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to kill myself. If I don’t have the nerve to commit suicide, I’ll get a prisoner to do it.” Doug smiled. “Finding someone who’ll kill me for a price shouldn’t be hard where I’m going.”

  “Oh, Doug. Please don’t say that.”

  “Then promise me that you’ll never visit me again; that you’ll get a divorce and find someone who is worthy of you. I’ve never been. You should be able to see that now.” Doug pressed his hand to the glass.

  Marsha started to raise her hand to cover his, but she stopped halfway. Then she looked into Doug’s eyes, broke into tears, and ran away.

  Doug watched her go until she disappeared from view. The phone Marsha had held dropped to the end of its cord. It swayed back and forth like a pendulum until the last evidence that the woman he’d loved and killed for had ever been on the other side of the bulletproof glass stopped moving.

  Doug waited until he had regained his composure before he signaled for the guard. When the door to the ce
ll block opened, Doug stood slowly, his shoulders slumped, bent slightly, walking like a much older man.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  Being responsible for sending a client to prison should have had an adverse effect on a criminal lawyer’s business, but Robin’s caseload increased dramatically with every news story about the Armstrong case—proving the old adage that there is no such thing as bad publicity.

  Robin was so busy that she rarely thought about Randi Stark or Blaine Hastings. She’d told Randi that she did not want to represent her anymore, and she’d given her the names of several excellent attorneys who could handle her suit against Blaine, so she didn’t have to think about the case anymore.

  Jeff was bound by the attorney–client privilege because he was an agent of the firm. She had told him why she dropped Randi as a client. He could see that she was troubled, and he tried to make Robin feel better by pointing out that Hastings deserved to be in prison, but Robin was still troubled.

  Fall was starting to morph into winter on a dark November day when Robin’s receptionist told her that Amanda Jaffe, a well-known Oregon criminal defense attorney, was in the waiting room. Jaffe was tall and athletic with high cheekbones, clear blue eyes, and black hair that tumbled over broad shoulders that were sculpted during years of high-level competitive swimming. Robin had gotten to know and respect Amanda when they’d represented clients in a monthlong federal drug conspiracy case.

  “What’s up?” Robin asked when Amanda was seated.

  “I was just hired by a former client of yours, Randi Stark.”

  Robin stopped smiling. “Is this the civil suit against Blaine Hastings?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll have the files sent over to you.”

  “Can you tell me why you got off the case?”

  “No.”

  Amanda waited for an explanation, then realized that none would be forthcoming. “Have you heard about Hastings’s parents?”

  “I’ve tuned out the case since I stopped representing Randi. What happened?”

  “Senior entered a plea to obstruction of justice for his hand in the DNA scam. Vanessa dropped the case against Mrs. Hastings in exchange for the plea. Senior will go to jail, but he’ll probably get an early parole. Junior hasn’t been sentenced yet, because he was on the run—but he’ll be back in court next week, and I expect Judge Redding is going to throw the book at him for the rape and for jumping bail.”

  Robin nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Amanda cocked her head. “What’s troubling you? Is it something I need to know to represent Randi?”

  Robin shook her head. “Go full bore for Randi. She deserves to be represented by a good lawyer. If you win, don’t worry. Justice will be served.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  Snow was a rare sight in the Willamette Valley, but the last days of December had brought three days of freezing temperatures accompanied by a light dusting of snow to downtown Portland. Robin had grown up in the Midwest, so the weather didn’t bother her and was a pale reminder of the mountain-high snowdrifts and blustery winter storms of her youth.

  Robin was on her way to the Pacific Northwest Bank building to negotiate a case. As she walked into the lobby, she remembered that this building had once housed the law firm of Nylander & Armstrong. Robin looked at her phone. She was early for her meeting. On a whim, she pressed the button for the eleventh floor. When she got out of the elevator, she saw someone walking out of the insurance company offices on one side of the corridor. When she looked in the other direction, she saw glass doors, but she did not see any writing on them that indicated that law had once been practiced behind them.

  Robin peered through the glass. There was nothing to see: no serious associates hustling between the offices, no desks, chairs, or computers. What had once been the scene of merry chaos was now inhabited only by ghosts.

  Robin stared for a moment more before taking a deep breath and walking back to the elevator.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As usual, I had a lot of help in writing and researching this novel. I want to thank Earl S. Ward, for helping me understand the way probalistic genotyping is used in connection with DNA evidence and Dennis Balske, for providing me with cases that discussed a fascinating legal issue.

  My editor, Keith Kahla, helped turn my initial flawed efforts into a finished product that I hope readers found entertaining. Thanks also for the fantastic support I received from Hector DeJean, Martin Quinn, Alice Pfeifer, Sally Richardson, Eliani Torres, Ken Silver, and David Rotstein at St. Martin’s.

  Thanks, as always, to my amazing agent, Jennifer Weltz, and everyone else at the Jean V. Naggar Literary Agency. You are the best.

  Thanks, too, to the home team, Ami, Andy, Daniel, Amanda, Loots, Marissa, and my wife, Melanie Nelson, who helped me find happiness again.

  ALSO BY PHILLIP MARGOLIN

  Heartstone

  The Last Innocent Man

  Gone, But Not Forgotten

  After Dark

  The Burning Man

  The Undertaker’s Widow

  The Associate

  Sleeping Beauty

  Lost Lake

  Worthy Brown’s Daughter

  Woman with a Gun

  Vanishing Acts (with Ami Margolin Rome)

  Amanda Jaffe Novels

  Wild Justice

  Ties That Bind

  Proof Positive

  Fugitive

  Violent Crimes

  Dana Cutler Novels

  Executive Privilege

  Supreme Justice

  Capitol Murder

  Sleight of Hand

  Robin Lockwood Novels

  The Third Victim

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  PHILLIP MARGOLIN has written over twenty novels, most of them New York Times bestsellers, including Gone But Not Forgotten, as well as the first Robin Lockwood novel, The Third Victim. In addition to being a novelist, he was a long time criminal defense attorney with decades of trial experience, including a large number of capital cases. Margolin lives in Portland, Oregon.

  Visit the author on his website, at www.phillipmargolin.com, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/PhillipMargolinAuthor, or sign up for email updates here.

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Part One: The Greek God

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Part Two: The Henderson Case

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Three: DNA

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Part Four: Occam’s Razor

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Fiver />
  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Part Five: Something Odd

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Part Six: The Alumni Association

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Phillip Margolin

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  THE PERFECT ALIBI. Copyright © 2019 by Phillip Margolin. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  Cover photographs: woman © Mark Owen/Trevillion Images; paper © Autsawin Uttisin/Shutterstock.com

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-1-250-11752-6 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-11753-3 (ebook)

  eISBN 9781250117533

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