Dead Ringer

by Lisa Scottoline

  Mary nodded. “Of course. We stick together.” She looked up at Bennie. “Tell him no, Bennie. We’ll make a go of it somehow.”

  Bennie’s throat caught, and she had to wait a moment for it to pass. “Thank you, ladies, but I won’t tell him no just yet. Let’s slow down this transaction. Give ourselves time to change our minds. We have to be reasonable.”

  “We won’t change our minds,” Murphy said.

  “And we hate being reasonable,” Carrier added.

  Bennie smiled. “And it will also give us some time to see what happens. See if plaintiffs do start defecting, and if the phones begin to ring again.” Part of Bennie still held out hope for Rosato & Associates. She was stupid that way. “Regardless of what happens with St. Amien & Fils, if enough of them come over to us in the next few days, then maybe we can stay alive.”

  DiNunzio shuddered at her inadvertent choice of words, and Bennie walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You didn’t go to D.C. this morning. Why not?”

  “With what happened to Robert, I thought I’d stay around and see if you needed me. Those records aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Thanks, but your client needs you too. You were going on your first business trip. You should still go.”

  “But there will be services for Robert. I should go.”

  “We’ll go for you.”

  Mary looked uncertain, and Bennie could smell the separation anxiety. She had never had a nest with a baby bird in it, but something was telling her the right thing to do was to give the baby bird a good, hard shove into thin air. Fly, honey. You can do it. You can fly.

  “Go,” Bennie said. “Get the next train, DiNunzio. Do good. Fight for justice.”

  Mary’s eyes flickered. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  Carrier snorted. “We’ll be fine. Forget about us and go. If we want to kick some ass, we know who to call. And she’s way tougher than you.”

  “Who?”

  “Duh. Your mom, doofus.”

  Mary gave her best friend a good swat, and they all laughed.

  Bennie’s smile faded first. She had a few hundred calls to answer, but one of them to make, and it was more important than the others. She couldn’t delay it a moment longer. So she shooed the girls from her office, picked up the phone, and punched in a number.

  22

  A llo?” said the voice on the other end of the phone line, and Bennie felt the soft Gallic purr reverberate in her chest. Georges St. Amien sounded almost exactly like his brother on the telephone. She gripped the receiver tighter. It was still so hard to believe that Robert was really dead. “Allo?”

  “Hello, is this Georges?” Bennie took the liberty of pronouncing it the dumbass American way, as in Curious George. It was easier, and she had no idea how to fake the French, which was where high school Latin got you.

  “Yes, here is Georges.”

  Okay, Georges was pronounced like Curious George, only mushier. She still wasn’t going there. “Georges, this is Bennie Rosato. I’m sorry to bother you at this terrible time. I was your brother’s attorney, on a litigation matter for his business, and I’m calling to offer you my condolences on his death.”

  “Ah, merci bien. How kind of you to call.” His tone was raw, and Bennie could hear the bewilderment behind the words. She had heard it before, in the voices of family who had suffered a loss through violent crime. They all said it made the grief so much worse, but Bennie almost couldn’t imagine grief being any harder.

  “Please, forgive me for not calling sooner. I got held up this morning.”

  “No matter.” Georges paused, and Bennie heard a whispery blowing sound she recognized. He must have been smoking, like Robert. She imagined him stubbing out his cigarette as the pause stretched longer. “I have seen your name, in the newspapers. Thank you for your well wishes.”

  “You’re welcome. I am so very sorry for Robert’s death. I liked him very much. We all did, at the firm.”

  “Thank you. Robert thought well of you, also. He spoke of you, and your office.”

  “He did?” Bennie’s ears pricked up. It was nice to hear, and she hadn’t known Robert was close to his brother. Maybe Georges would know something about St. Amien & Fils, like who was Robert’s successor, but she wasn’t about to bring that up now. “It’s a terrible loss. If I may, I would like to attend the memorial services.”

  “We will have something here, but the funeral will be at home, in France, of course. The police, they will tell us when we can have the service.” Georges paused again, but this time it didn’t sound like he was smoking. “The detective, I met him last night.”

  “Bob Needleman. I met him too.”

  “Oh. Good. He is good, do you think? Smart? To catch this man who killed my brother?”

  “Yes, I do.” Bennie bit her lip. She had just been sitting around the conference table with the associates, shooting theories around in the abstract. But talking to Georges made it real. For him, finding Robert’s killer wasn’t about justice, it was about family. She wanted to give him strength. “I think the police will find whoever did this, Georges. The detectives in Homicide are very good, and I promise you, I’ll stay on top of this. If there’s anything I can do for you or your family, please let me know.”

  “Actually, there is. Perhaps you could stop in for a brief visit today, toward the end of the day. Robert’s son, Julien, I think you know of him, he will be coming in today, and he would like to meet you. You judged a competition of his, at law school.”

  Bennie remembered. The moot-court thing. “Sure, that would be no problem. What time?”

  “Around four o’clock is good. Are you free at that time?”

  “You got it, Georges.”

  “Pardon?”

  It reminded Bennie of Robert again. He’d never understood her either, which had been only part of his charm. “I’ll see you then, Georges,” she said, and they hung up.

  After a moment, Marshall stuck her head in the door. “You off the phone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get back on.” Marshall tottered in with a stack of pink message slips. “The natives are restless.”

  “Who’s calling?” Bennie asked, taking them and leafing through. She expected to see creditors like Verizon and AT&T, with 800 numbers she had memorized by now. But instead the names were Quinones and Kerpov. “Wow. Not just people who want money. Class-action lawyers.”

  “Say what?” Marshall said with a smirk.

  “Wonder if they want to buy us too.” Bennie’s puzzled gaze fell upon an unfamiliar name on a messages. “Who’s Mort Abrams?”

  “Said he’s with FitCo. They make medical lenses.”

  “Wow.” Bennie was intrigued. “Sounds like another class member. Maybe he needs a lawyer.”

  “He wants to meet you for lunch, so call by then.” Marshall rested her hand atop her round belly, a habit that Bennie noticed was a pregnancy thing. It was like carrying your own portable shelf. “I heard about Linette’s offer, and my vote is no. Even though I may not be here, I still say no. He’s slime.” She wrinkled her tiny nose. “And Sam called again. He wants to have lunch with you too. Call him back.”

  “Got it. Thanks.” Marshall turned and left, and Bennie sifted through the phone messages on her desk to make the call that had been in the back of her mind all morning. David Holland’s. She found the message and punched in the number. She reached him immediately, and it turned out he was on his way to see her. He’d be upstairs in fifteen minutes.

  Woohoo! Bennie set down the receiver, jumped up from her desk chair, and checked her reflection in the office window. She refused to run to the mirror in the ladies’ room, because that would be admitting she cared how she looked, and she preferred to remain in her usual state of denial. She squinted at her reflection in the sheet of glass, trying to block out the sunny sky and office buildings. It was so bright out that she couldn’t see anything except for a transparent ghost of herself, utterly devoi
d of important details like zits. She wore a white T-shirt with a scoop neck with her new and improved red suit, with a short jacket and above-the-knee skirt. Her bare legs ended in running shoes, but at least she had shaved. Recently.

  Bennie kicked off her sneakers and went digging in her office closet for brown pumps while she raked her fingers through her hair. After she had changed her shoes, she rechecked her reflection in the office window, standing with her arms straight at her sides. She looked positively see-through, and her hair was as fuzzy as a cloud in the sky. Or maybe it was a cloud in the sky.

  She gave up trying to look hot, went back to her desk chair, and tried to act like a mature, sensible woman. She made a phone call to get her doors and back window replaced, and convinced them to rush the job, since she had been broken into by cops and robbers. They’d even agreed to do it without her being there, and to leave the new front door key inside. She hung up with satisfaction, but she still wasn’t feeling mature and sensible when Marshall appeared at her threshold, with David.

  “Bennie, Mr. Holland is here to see you,” Marshall said, suppressing a smile, and waddled off without shouting, Bennie, a total hunk is here to see you!

  “Hey, Bennie,” David said, entering her office in a white oxford shirt, pressed khaki pants, a tan leather belt, and Timberland loafers. He looked like a man in uniform, even out of uniform, but it could have been his shoulders, which were made for epaulets. Bennie was trying not to be attracted to him, but it wasn’t working. A sprig of dark chest hair sprung out of his open collar, and he smelled like mint something. Mint testosterone, maybe.

  “Hoo-yah!” she said, and he laughed.

  “You say it like an army man.”

  “Okay, how do you say it?”

  “Hoo-Ah!”

  It did sound cool, and male in the extreme. “Forget it, I took Latin. Thanks for coming by. Sit down.”

  “Thanks.” He eased into the chair across from her desk, linking his fingers loosely between his legs. He was smiling at her with brown eyes that looked surprisingly sympathetic. “I’m sorry about your client.”

  “Thanks.” Bennie felt a pang even the hots couldn’t erase.

  “You had quite a night last night. How are you doing? Did you get any sleep?”

  “Some. I’m okay.” Bennie had already decided not to offer David coffee because she wasn’t his professional. Well, wait a minute. She had made him coffee last night at her house, so the precedent was set, and this was merely a change of venue. She couldn’t decide. His chest hair was intentionally confusing her. “Coffee?” she asked, at the last minute.

  “No thanks. I ate already.”

  Bennie laughed. “You’re so nice today, and very talkative. What happened?”

  “I feel bad for you, and frankly, I’m worried about you.”

  “Me, why?”

  “Because somebody got killed. Somebody close to you.” David’s smile vanished, and his jaw set. “I did a little research online last night about your twin. I read all the newspaper articles from the murder trial, and all the information about her. We don’t know how long she’s been back in town, but if you look at her moves in a series, a logical series, it’s a very dangerous scenario.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Alice is on the attack, and her attacks are escalating. She has attacked your reputation, your home, and an animal you love. And now possibly your client.” David’s eyes turned dark and bored into her. “You see where I’m going with this?”

  Bennie nodded. It was bad and good to have her suspicion confirmed. Ambivalent falling short, again. “You think Alice killed Robert.”

  David shook his head. “Not only that.”

  “What?”

  “I think you’re next.”

  Whoa. Bennie’s heart stopped. Maybe it was the gravity behind his eyes or the authority in his voice. Or maybe his words just rang true. She felt a tingle of fear.

  “It’s not out of the realm of possibility, and you have to take measures to protect yourself.”

  “But I’m not sure she’s the one who killed Robert.”

  “You can’t take any chances. You have to behave as though she did. You have to protect yourself, and you can’t let it go just because so much else is going on.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “I don’t mean to, and I know this isn’t my business.” David leaned forward. “I’m just saying that last night, when you found out about the murder, you flew out of the house. It was like everything else went out of your head, including Alice. You didn’t think twice about the danger to yourself, even though we had just found out how she’d broken in. Even though she had just tried to kill Bear.”

  Bennie remembered. She had barely said good-bye.

  “I bet you didn’t think about her this morning, either, in the aftermath of last night.”

  “I thought about her,” Bennie told him, defensive.

  “What I’m saying is, you have to end this. You have to stop her. You have to get her. You can’t afford to keep disregarding your enemy because your friend was killed, or because you have a law firm to run.” David gestured at her wall of fame. “I read about you last night. You’ve accomplished a lot in your life, and you have too much on your plate. I can’t even begin to imagine what it takes to run a law firm. It isn’t my expertise.”

  Mine either, she almost said.

  “My expertise lies in another area. This area. I teach how to wage war, and how to win. I believe it’s the same whether it’s a real battle, a simulated battle, or any other conflict. War is war. It can be everywhere and anywhere.”

  Bennie had always believed as much. Litigation was war. She had thought it yesterday in the courtroom, when she had declared on Linette. And look what had happened.

  “I can tell you, from my experience, that you have an enemy who isn’t distracted. Alice is following a plan of attack, and she’s acting without hesitation or remorse. She’s aggressive and she’s going forward. And you’re directly in the line of fire.”

  Bennie was quiet a moment.

  “I’m concerned. I like you, and I wouldn’t feel so great if you got yourself killed.”

  Bennie felt a rush of warmth even she couldn’t deny.

  “It’s your cooking I would miss. Also your dog, who loves me, I can tell.”

  Bennie felt her cheeks flushing. It was the L word that did it.

  “My point isn’t that I can and should help.” David raised a finger like the instructor he was. “That isn’t my point. Even though I am the best man for the job, come completely free, and have nothing better to do.”

  “Nothing?”

  “All I have to do is work out.”

  “No job? What do you live on?” Bennie was so curious about him. David had come out of the blue and was entering her life in a very intimate way. Talking about her getting killed. What if he was working with Alice somehow? Even he had said that Alice could have an accomplice. Bennie couldn’t help feeling suspicious. She was a lawyer, after all.

  “I’m still drawing my pay, and I’m a saver.”

  Now that was suspicious. “Did you always want to be in the military?”

  “Yes. I was ROTC in high school, a battalion commander.”

  “Why did you want to do that?”

  “It suited me.”

  Okay. Bennie had wanted to be a lawyer for about the same reason. “Where do you live?”

  “You’re getting in a lot of personal questions here. Don’t think I don’t notice.”

  “Where you live is personal? Then what’s your weight?”

  He smiled. “I live on Spruce, at Twentieth, in an apartment I rent month to month. I don’t know how long this break will be. Long enough to help you through this.”

  Bennie considered the proposition. “And you think I need help, that I can’t do it myself.”

  “I know you can’t.”

  Bennie bristled. Anything you can do I can do better. “Why the hell not?”
/>
  “Because Alice knows what you look like.”

  Oh. Bennie hadn’t thought of that. She put her gun back in its holster.

  “She can see you coming. In fact, she’s been following you. And, since you and your law firm represented her, she knows what all of your associates look like. She’s met them, hasn’t she? They were in photos together in the newspapers, taken on the courthouse steps.”

  “Yes. She knows all of us but Murphy, and I bet she’s seen a picture of her on our website.”

  “And she even knows your investigator. The one you mentioned, I forget his name.”

  “Lou Jacobs. He’s sick anyway.”

  “And you don’t have the money to rent a cop.”

  “Not really.”

  Bennie mulled it over. She didn’t have a lot of choices. And he did seem like a normal, sane man, acting selflessly. She’d just never met anyone like him. She really could use the help. It might be time to admit it. “Well, I do have an idea.”

  “What is it?”

  “The way I see, the problem is simple. Alice is following me, but I don’t know where she is.”

  “True. I did some searching last night and she’s not listed anywhere in the city or the suburbs.”

  “She’s made herself invisible, except that she’s following me. And that’s how I can find her. You follow her, following me.” Bennie tried to explain. She knew it sounded bizarre. Phones rang in the background. “Be my bodyguard, just like a rent-a-cop, but undercover. Sooner or later, she’s got to show herself. And you know what she looks like. Me.”

  David was listening. “So I track you, that’s the plan?”

  “Yes. It shouldn’t last too long, maybe three days at most. I hate to take so much of your time, but if you’re offering, it’s a plan.”

  David nodded. “I have plenty of time, and it won’t take long. Then we turn her in and they question her for the murder of St. Amien, and prosecute her for the theft of your wallet and the diamonds. I assume once we have her out in the open, you can tie her up pretty good in legal red tape.”

  “That would be my expertise.” Bennie smiled. She was feeling safer already, more in control of the situation, even if their arrangement was a little strange. If it worked, this nightmare would be over. Maybe the firm could stay afloat until then. The charges against her would be dropped, and people would know she wasn’t a thief or a drunk. She couldn’t wait for the day.