Page 20 of Dead Ringer


  “Well, maybe what I meant was that we should talk.”

  “We should? I don’t see why. Our marriage is over. You keep the house in Stone Harbor and the starter Range Rover. I’ll take the running shoes and the golden.”

  “Listen, I don’t want to fight anymore.” Linette flashed a peace sign, and Bennie took a mental snapshot, to be filed under Purely Ironic Moments.

  “You’re kidding, right? You’ve been trying to muscle me out of the picture since this case began, and now that it’s over, only because poor Robert is dead, you want to kiss and make up?”

  “I haven’t been trying to—”

  “I don’t get why you’re here, and in the mood I’m in today, I’m not mincing words. I don’t have a client, so I’m out of the lawsuit, at least for the time being. I wish you lotsa luck, but we don’t have to be friends, you and me. It’s time for you to go.”

  “I heard you paid a visit to my client last night.”

  “Sue me.” Bennie took a bigger slug of coffee. It was doing her good. Maybe her testosterone/caffeine theory wasn’t so crazy after all. Only Dunkin’ Donuts knew for sure, and they weren’t telling.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hold it against you, and neither does Herm.” Linette waved a hand like the Pope, if the Pope had been president of the Pennsylvania Trial Lawyers Association. “I understand, I know you were distraught. I know you liked Robert personally, I could tell. And you had a lot depending on him, professionally. On his case.”

  “Robert’s death is a loss as a friend and as a client. One loss is far greater than the other, but I don’t have to justify which to you.” Bennie set her coffee on the conference table, strode to the door, and put a hand on the knob. “See ya.” She was adult enough not to add, Wouldn’t want to be ya. But just barely.

  “One last thing. It’s the main reason I came.” Linette stood up, but didn’t move toward the door. “Bennie, I’ll just say this right out. I want to buy your law firm. With you in it, of course. You’d be the key man. Er, woman.”

  Bennie stood dumbstruck. Buy my firm, with no clients, from the brink of bankruptcy?

  “I’ll give you a lump sum for the business. I’m ballparking two million bucks, in structured payments. And that doesn’t include your salary, with bonuses for new clients, obviously. For you, it’ll be three hundred grand a year, guaranteed, to start.”

  Two million dollars? Three hundred grand in salary? Guaranteed? Bennie felt her mouth fall open and didn’t try to hide it. The numbers astounded her. What was more astounding was that Linette would offer it. Why was he doing this? Why now? And without seeing her disastrous financials? Huh?

  “I’d buy your practice, your clients, your files, everything. You can sell off your furniture and books, I’ll give you office allowances for my place. We’ll get a coupla bean counters to have a sit-down, work out the terms, and crunch the final numbers, but it has to be better than you’re doing now.” Linette looked briefly around her office and managed not to hold his nose. “I think two mil is fair market value for a going concern, especially one with your good name behind it.”

  “My good name?” Bennie blurted out. “I’m under indictment for theft and assault. The Eastern District thinks I’m a drunk.”

  “Aw, don’t be so hard on yourself. Lighten up.” Linette spread his meaty palms wide. “I heard about that little bender at the Chinese restaurant. Big deal. We’ve all been there. As for the charges, even if you’re convicted, they won’t suspend your license for the first offense.”

  “I didn’t do it!”

  “Of course you didn’t. And if you take my offer, you won’t have to steal diamonds to stay in business. So sell to me. It’ll relieve the pressure on you. I mean, honestly, are you netting even a hundred grand, after payroll and fixed expenses?”

  “No,” Bennie answered. Well, she wasn’t. Last year she had cleared $73.22. But none of this made sense. He didn’t need her. “I just don’t know why you’d want to do this.”

  “You’re a great lawyer, lady. Simple as that.” Linette shrugged his quarterback’s shoulders. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

  Bennie still didn’t get it. “But you do class-action law, exclusively. I don’t know anything about class-action law.”

  “Granted, you don’t have much of a track record in class-action cases, but your move in court yesterday, asking for that emergency hearing? It was tough-minded. Brilliant. You turned your low mileage to an advantage. I need someone like you at Linette & Associates.” Linette smiled his overbleached smile. “You know, you impressed a lot of people yesterday. Even Herm.”

  Bennie read between the lines. Mayer had never been loyal to Linette; she knew that from the luncheon that first day. Maybe Mayer had talked about jumping ship, and some other class members had, too. If that was true, Linette would want to buy her to keep them. He could spend two mil and change to keep seventy; it was downright economic. But did Mayer still want to hire Bennie, after that scene last night at his house? It didn’t make sense. She was guessing she knew Mayer’s secret, and Linette didn’t.

  “Of course, you wouldn’t be a principal like you are now,” Linette continued. “You’d be classified as an associate for payroll purposes, but that would be in name only. You’d be the most senior attorney in the firm, second only to me, accorded all the respect you so richly deserve. And we’d spin it as a merger, not me buying you out, in all the press releases.”

  Bennie didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. Insulted was the politically correct answer, but frankly, part of her was definitely listening. For that kind of money, maybe she could be an associate again. She used to write a mean legal memo, and she still had her crayons. If you can walk, you can crawl, right?

  “I’d like to get it done this week, announce it to the press, and the defendants. Get back on track after that sideshow in court yesterday. Listen to Judge Sherman. Remember what he told us? United we stand, baby.” Linette rubbed his hands together, and Bennie suppressed a smile. She wasn’t sure that was what Lincoln had had in mind. Linette looked at her, tilting his jaw, his blue eyes expectant. “So, lady, whaddaya say? Agreement in principle?”

  “I have some thoughts too,” Bennie said. The whole scene was so bizarre, she was wondering just how bizarre it could get. “What about my employees?”

  “Your people? What about them? You want them or you want them gone?”

  Ouch. “I want them. I have a receptionist who needs maternity benefits right away, a secretary who needs to come back from layoff, and three smart lawyers who make a hundred grand apiece.” The last part was a complete lie, but Bennie was negotiating with Santa Claus.

  “Done.”

  Merry Christmas to me. “Also I do a lot of pro bono work. There’s an ongoing case for the Circolo. You must have heard of them. They’re a consortium.” With cannoli. “We’re currently suing the government on their behalf. Bringing justice because of the Italian American internments. I got DiNunzio on it, and I’d have to fund that case fully.”

  “Okay.” Linette grinned. “Italians are okay by me. My third wife was Italian, and you oughta see me go to town on a plate of veal parm. Anything else?”

  Bennie paused. “I need a new car. Mine’s dirty.”

  “Porsche or Mercedes?”

  “Only one?” Bennie asked, and they both fake-laughed. Then she said, “Kidding.”

  “Of course you were. Your choice. Porsche is for boys, Mercedes is for girls.”

  “I’ll take the Porsche.”

  Linette fake-laughed again. “Of course you would!” He clapped his hands together with a loud smack. “So, is it a done deal?”

  “Let me think about it,” Bennie answered, then shut her mouth before anything as low-rent as Yes, buy me please please please slipped from her lips.

  “Fair enough.” Linette gave a brief nod, walked to the door, and paused in the threshold when Bennie opened it. Up close his eyes were very blue, and she could see lapis-
tinted contacts afloat on his corneas. He flashed her a blinding grin. “Don’t make me wait, Bennie.”

  “Perish the thought,” she said, and watched him walk past her three stunned associates without a hello or even a good-bye. The phone was ringing again, and Bennie was amazed. What’s with all these calls? Bennie let Marshall get it. Porsche owners didn’t answer their own phone.

  Linette slithered to the elevator, and the minute he was safely gone, the three associates turned toward her as one, sharing a what-was-that-all-about look. Bennie thought they deserved a full accounting, and she could actually use their help to figure everything out. So she motioned the kids over, and they came running.

  It took Bennie an hour to catch them up on current events, starting with Linette’s offer, her seeing poor Robert at the scene, and her confrontation with Mayer. She omitted the part about Mayer’s alternative-lifestyle bathrobe, since his sexual preference was his business and they didn’t hear much after her description of St. Amien’s body anyway. They’d learned about his murder last night, of course; Bennie’s cell phone and answering machine had been full of their messages, but she’d been too exhausted to return the calls. She’d known they’d figure she was in the thick of things, and they had. She ended by doubling back to her almost drowning at the river, to David, Bear, and the break-in.

  When her story was over, she scanned the young faces around her conference table, sober even in their varying degrees of morning makeup: Murphy wore the most, in full mascara; DiNunzio took the middle ground, with blusher and eyeliner; and Carrier went typically a cappella, with a foundation of Dove soap and a lingering scent of Colgate original. They’d grown a lot this year. Most of it in the last few days.

  Bennie folded her arms and leaned back against her desk. “So, ladies, what do we think?”

  “We think we miss Robert,” Murphy said, and the other two nodded.

  “It must have been awful.” DiNunzio’s voice was barely a whisper. “What an awful way to die.”

  “I hope this detective is good,” Carrier said. Her pink hair clashed with her grim expression, but then again, her pink hair clashed with everything. “Because I don’t know if I agree with this tourist-killer theory.”

  Bingo. Bennie cocked her head, intrigued. She hadn’t told them her concerns, so as not to taint their thinking. “Why not, kid?”

  “It’s so lame, and it may apply to this Belgian guy, but not to Robert. The money was too high to ignore in this case.” Carrier ran a quick tongue over her unlipsticked lips. “For example, why is it more believable that somebody would kill a man for a wallet, when he could kill him for millions of dollars?”

  Bennie didn’t have an immediate answer. “So who then, if not Mayer? And you’re discounting Alice, with your money-as-motive theory.”

  “Not to go against you, but I am, boss.” Carrier paused. “I think she’s a possibility, but to me she doesn’t follow the money trail. I have a different theory, but it’s not etched in stone. Which means it’s a little nuts.”

  “Shoot,” Bennie said, and Murphy leaned forward. Only DiNunzio hung back, lost in her emotions over St. Amien. She had evidently postponed her Washington trip, and Bennie made a mental note to deal with that later. The phone began ringing but they all ignored it. Bennie turned her attention to Carrier, who was gearing up.

  “Let’s take a long, hard look at our new best friend, Bill Linette.” Carrier held up a palm like a traffic cop, a gesture Bennie recognized from her own repertoire. “Obviously, I’m thinking out loud, but here goes. Linette had the same motive as Mayer, only less so, but when we’re talking millions, it’s a matter of degree.”

  Bennie smiled to herself. This, from a child who never met a payroll. Still. “Go on, Carrier.”

  “Well, Linette comes in here, trying to buy us. By the way, we’re saying no, right?” She glanced at Bennie for confirmation.

  “Table that for now. Go ahead with the theory.”

  “Like we always do, think of who benefits from Robert’s death. If Robert is dead, then the only viable competition for lead plaintiff is gone. Linette wins the jackpot, lead plaintiff and lead counsel fees. And he gets to represent the entire class, and get their fees, too. Just what he wanted.”

  “Linette.” Bennie was shaking her head. “You think he’d kill to be lead counsel?”

  “If it’s worth twenty to thirty million dollars in fees?” Carrier answered. “Sure. Remember, you thought Mayer would kill to be lead plaintiff, and you were right to suspect that. Money is a powerful motive, I don’t have to remind everybody of that, and look at the other facts that point to Linette.” She held up her index finger, with its chewed fingernail. “First off, the timing is too coincidental. Right after you kick Linette’s ass in court, he finds another way to eliminate the competition. I mean, Bennie, you were making a serious challenge to his claim for lead counsel, weren’t you?”

  Bennie nodded, cringing. They want to kill us, don’t they? She hadn’t mentioned that tidbit to the associates. It hurt too much.

  “And everybody in town was talking about that Belgian guy’s murder, and Linette knows all about that. Let’s say he figures Robert’s murder would fit right in the pattern. And it does, which is why the police think it’s the tourist killer. How easy is that to fake?”

  Bennie bit her lip.

  “Point two.” Carrier held up a second finger. “There’s the humiliation factor, with Linette. Bennie, let’s face it, you embarrassed Linette in court, and he is the King of All Class Actions. But you took him on and you came out on top. His own client noticed, as he himself told you, and when did that happen? Probably after the hearing, he and Mayer had words, and Mayer told him he was impressed with you. Right?”

  “Possible.”

  “Worse, Linette may have spent the afternoon on the phone, taking calls from the other members of the plaintiff class, trying to plug leaks in the dam. He could see that his plaintiffs would defect to you, and so he needed you out of the action. So he kills Robert. It’s the same rationale that you’re using now, to think about his offer to buy us.”

  “If I find the successor, we can still stay on the case.”

  “That’s a big if, and time matters. Maybe Linette will go to the successor too. Who knows who that is?” Carrier’s voice got higher, in her enthusiasm. “See? It’s the perfect plan, if Linette is the killer. Take St. Amien out, cut you out, then buy you out.”

  Murphy raised a sharp pencil, like a schoolgirl. “But why doesn’t Linette just offer to buy her, and not kill Robert? Why murder someone and take the risk of getting caught?”

  Carrier thought a second, but only a second. A Boalt grad, she had the credentials of a legal scholar. “Because if he doesn’t, then Bennie has St. Amien and his war chest. She can stay viable and even prosper, which would increase the likelihood of defections to our firm by other class members. Get it? Linette has to kill Robert to make the plan work. Also, I’m not necessarily saying he did it himself. He could have hired someone to kill Robert.”

  Bennie was actually considering it. The kid was almost making sense.

  “We can’t reject the theory until we know more about Linette. First, where was Linette last night, boss? You didn’t ask him his whereabouts, did you?”

  Damn. “No. I wasn’t even thinking of him as a suspect. I was too bollixed up with Alice, whom I’m still not letting off the hook.” Bennie felt a familiar dread at the pit of her stomach. Her eyes fell on the phone message in Marshall’s neat hand from David Holland. She felt a tiny wrench in her chest and wondered if she’d be able to call him back. What had he said—she was under attack—which was exactly how it felt. “Carrier, you may be right about Linette, but Alice is the wild card here. And we know she’s out to get me. To ruin me. And she’d kill to do it.”

  Murphy’s green eyes narrowed. “But how would she know how important St. Amien was to the business?”

  “She’s not stupid or unsophisticated. She’s a Rutgers grad, o
n scholarship, and she can tell that a class action that hits the newspapers is worth more than Brandolini, for example.”

  DiNunzio didn’t look up, and Bennie let it go.

  “And I was thinking, we know she’s been following me. What if she followed me yesterday, and was in that courtroom? Watching me and Robert? Seeing me fight for him and hearing my argument?” Bennie was convincing herself the more she thought about it. “Robert even came up and gave me one of those little kisses at the end. She could have guessed that striking at him would be a way to strike at me, both professionally and personally.”

  The associates listened in silence for a change.

  “And we have to look beyond the motive, to the character of the person. What kind of human being are they? I’d sooner believe that Alice is capable of killing someone than Bull Linette or Herman Mayer. They may be jerks, but she’s a psycho.”

  Murphy seemed to mull it over. “I hear you, but I stay undecided. I’m not giving up on the tourist angle, either. The pattern is sort of compelling.” She tucked her long red hair behind her ear with a polished fingernail. “Now, for a moment, tell me about the future, Bennie. Are we going with Linette or not? I vote no.”

  “Why?” Bennie asked, and Murphy squinched up her freckled nose.

  “He’s a jerk and a lech.”

  “It’s a hundred grand a year to you, Murph,” Bennie reminded her. “And I can’t promise you a future here. As it stands now, I got plenty of nothing. I’d have to find Robert’s successor, and I’m sure there’s committee upon committee to go through to make any decision about the lawsuit. We may not be able to stay open the week.”

  “Still don’t want it. I’m with you until they throw us out, then we’re out together.”

  Next to her, Carrier was nodding enthusiastically, a fuchsia blur. “It goes without saying. I would never work for Ego Boy, and I hate that kind of work. I’m with DiNunzio, Murphy, and you.” Carrier grinned happily, then nudged DiNunzio. “Wake up, girl!”