By Hook or By Crook

by Gorman, Ed

  “So when did she ask you to kill her husband?”

  “Last week,” Bass says. “I showed up for work, and Eve was crying, said her husband accused her of having an affair. She denied it, but it didn’t matter. He wanted a divorce.”

  I lean forward. “So what’s the problem? In this state, she’d get half in a settlement.”

  Bass nods. “That’s what I told her. But Eve said there was a prenup and she wouldn’t get a dime. She said she deserved something for all she put up with over the years. She wanted him dead and asked if I’d do it. She told me he kept money in a safe in their bedroom. She said I could make it look like a robbery gone bad.”

  “What’d you tell her?”

  “That I had to think about it. That’s when she mentioned the life insurance policy.”

  This just gets better and better. “How much?”

  “Five million dollars.”

  I tent my fingers. “So once Toscar’s out of the picture, Eve’s a rich lady. And she wants you to come along for the ride. Sounds like a sweet deal.”

  Bass scans the cramped room. “You think?”

  I shrug. “A fortune and a fine-looking woman to share it with. What’s not to like?”

  “Murder, for one thing,” Bass says. “Look, I’ve made my share of mistakes, but I never killed anyone.”

  “What about the evidence?”

  “I told you. It was planted.”

  “You don’t seriously believe the cops planted it, do you?”

  “Doesn’t have to be the cops.”

  That gets my attention. “What do you mean?”

  “I think Eve got tired of waiting for me to make up my mind and found someone else. Cletus Rupp.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Bass nods. “When I saw Eve yesterday afternoon, she was hys terical. Her cheek was bruised. She said her husband hit her. She said if I loved her, I’d kill him, so we could get his money and be together.” Bass picks at a callus on his palm, avoiding my eyes. “I told her okay.”

  I sit up. “Wait a minute. I thought you said — ”

  “I was just gonna scare him,” he explains. “Get him to re consider. Eve said she was going to stay with a friend, so Toscar would be home alone. She gave me the combination to his safe and said she’d unlock the patio doors. I got to their place around ten thirty. There was a light on in the study. That’s where I found him. He was already dead. I got the hell outta there.”

  “Why didn’t you call the police?”

  “With my record?”

  I nod. “I understand. Then what happened?”

  Bass drains the rest of his Pepsi. “I drove home. Around midnight, Rupp called and told me to meet him at the Shamrock. He said it was important, life or death. I got there about a quarter to one, but Rupp didn’t show up until one fifteen. The minute he got there, he said he’d followed me to Toscar’s place and he’d seen the body. He wanted ten grand to keep his mouth shut.”

  “The amount the cops found in the bag.”

  “Yeah,” Bass says. “I told him I didn’t know what he was talk ing about. He went ballistic. Said to pay up or he’d go to the cops. He wouldn’t shut up, so I left.”

  “But he followed you outside,” I say, imagining the events in my mind.

  Bass nods. “He pushed me. I told him to leave me alone, but he just wouldn’t back off. He swung at my head with his hook. I ducked and shoved him hard as I could. He slammed up against a pickup and dropped to the ground. He started jerking. I rolled him over and saw the hook stuck in his throat.

  “The cops showed up, and I told them it was self-defense,” Bass adds. “They arrested me anyway. They didn’t charge me with Toscar’s murder until later.” He leans back in his chair. “And here we are.”

  “What if they find your fingerprints on the hammer?”

  Bass shrugs. “It means I used that hammer for some reason, and Cletus took it. With his hook, he wouldn’t leave any prints.” Bass must notice the doubt on my face. “If I was gonna kill Tos car, don’t you think I’d be smart enough to wear gloves?”

  I sip some of my Pepsi. “Then explain how the gym bag got in your car.”

  Bass’s leg starts bouncing. “Cletus must’ve planted it there while I was waiting for him. That’s why he wanted me at the Shamrock by one. He would’ve had enough time to kill Toscar, clean up, and dump the bag in my car.”

  “But if he already had the money; why argue with you about it?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet.”

  “So you think Mrs. Toscar and Rupp set you up?”

  Bass stares into my eyes. “Mr. Cleary, I know they did, but I can’t prove it. With Cletus dead, it’s my word against hers. Who do you think a jury’ll believe?”

  My silence tells him all he needs to know.

  Bass slumps back in his chair. “That’s why you gotta help me. Look, I’m a two-time loser. If I’m convicted, I’m looking at a death sentence. I need you to fight for my life.”

  I stare into his dark eyes. “Mr. Bass, I’ll do all I can.”

  The guard pokes his head inside the room and tells me my time’s up. I shake hands with Bass and promise him I’ll be in touch. I exit the building into the early-afternoon heat and smile when I see the vanity license plate on my silver BMW: SHARK. Who says lawyers don’t have a sense of humor? I toss my suit coat in the backseat and sink into the soft leather seats. After loosen ing my tie, I crank up the air-conditioning. The interior is cool by the time I leave the parking lot.

  I turn on the radio. My fingers tap a rhythm on the steering wheel while I ponder Bass’s story. All in all, he has a good grasp of how he’s been set up. Just not of who set him up. But that’s the beauty of this plan. After all, why would he suspect his court-appointed lawyer?

  I take the exit for Channel Drive. A few cars pass me, but I’m not in any hurry. I know where I’m going and I know who’ll be there when I arrive.

  • • •

  Eve Toscar stands in the front doorway clipping on a pearl earring. It matches the necklace around her neck. They contrast vividly with the sleeveless black dress she wears. The dress is de mure enough for grieving, but it clings here and there, hinting at the lush body beneath it. Eve looks good. It’s something she takes for granted. Like breathing.

  I step inside and close the door. “Where’s Inez?”

  “I sent her home. She’s a wreck. She worked for Steven for a long time.” Eve brushes past me and heads toward the kitchen, leaving a hint of her perfume in the air. “What did Bass say?”

  “About what we figured.” I watch the way her hips twitch beneath the dress. Her jet-black hair is piled on top of her head, and a few loose wisps graze her neck. Her cheek is bruised from where I hit her, but her makeup hides most of it. “He knows he was set up — and that no jury will believe him.”

  “He’s right.” Eve fills a glass with ice from the dispenser on the refrigerator door. She adds a splash of vodka from the open bottle sitting on the granite-topped counter and takes a sip. She peers at me over the rim of her glass, her dark blue eyes locked onto mine. “Want one?”

  I drop my briefcase on the floor, pry the glass from her fingers, and set it on the counter. “I had something else in mind.”

  Eve turns her head, and my kiss lands awkwardly on her cheek. A tiny ember of worry sparks deep in my gut. “What’s wrong?”

  She smooths the front of her dress. “We don’t have time. The funeral director is coming by to talk about the memorial ser vice.” She avoids my gaze. “Besides, I’ve been thinking maybe we should cool things for a while, at least until after the funeral.”

  The ember flares into a full-fledged blaze. When Eve showed up in my office six months ago, I confirmed the details of her husband’s will: she would never see a dime of his money if they divorced. She profited only if he died. When I didn’t hear from her, I thought that was the end of it. But two weeks later she called. During our follow-up appointment, I foun
d myself plotting Steven Toscar’s death. In my defense, it should be noted that my trousers were bunched around my ankles at the time. Since then, I’d come to think of Eve as my personal 401(k).

  So I don’t like the idea of my retirement plans going up in smoke. I put on my sincere face — the one I used on Bass. “Don’t worry, everything’s under control.”

  She sips some of her drink. “That’s easy for you to say. You didn’t have to talk to the police.”

  “What’d you tell them?”

  Eve fidgets with the strand of pearls. “What we talked about. I was with my friend Anne. I came home and found Steven dead.”

  “Anne will back you up?”

  She nods. “Of course.”

  “Good. Stick with your story and the cops can’t touch you.”

  “They want to talk again. You said once they arrested Bass we’d be in the clear.”

  I brush a stray hair off her cheek. “And we are. Look, with Rupp dead, there’s no way the cops can link him to us. As for Bass, it’s his word against yours. And with his history, you’ll win every time. Just stick to our plan and you’ll be spending Steven’s money in no time.”

  She smiles. “I’m going to be rich. And I have you to thank for it.”

  The burning in my gut fades. “Glad I could help.”

  Eve inches closer. “You were so smart to use Rupp to find a loser like Bass.”

  I shrug. “He owed me a favor.”

  “Don’t be so modest,” she coos, molding herself against me.

  Eve’s good looks distract a lot of people — you’d have to be blind to be immune — but her matchless gift is how special she makes you feel. Bass nailed that right on the head. Pretty soon, you do whatever you can to hoard her for yourself. By then it’s too late. You’re hooked, and you’ll promise her anything. Addic tion is an ugly thing.

  I smile. “It was clever.”

  Eve nips my earlobe. “Very clever. And making sure you were assigned as Dexter’s lawyer was pure genius.”

  My heart hammers against my ribs. We both know I’m going to give in, but my ego wants her to work for it. I untangle myself and step back. “You know, you may be right. Maybe we should cool it for a while. I don’t want to jinx anything.”

  She unbuckles my belt. “In that case, we should make this memorable.”

  I grip the countertop. “I thought you said we didn’t have time.”

  “Shhh,” she says, placing a finger over my lips. “This won’t take long.”

  • • •

  From the moment we hatched our scheme, I planned to help Eve spend her fortune. That’s the main reason I sweated the de tails plotting Toscar’s murder. Sure, love entered into it — the love of money. So I’m not a romantic. Sue me. Now with Rupp dead and Bass in jail, all the pieces have fallen into place.

  So I’m stunned when a herd of cops shows up at my house three days after my meeting with Dexter Bass. The one in front is wearing an off-the-rack navy blazer and wrinkled khaki slacks, spotted with the remnants of his lunch. His thick-soled black shoes tell me he spends a lot of time on his feet, and the bags under his bloodshot brown eyes tell me he isn’t getting much sleep. He shows me his gold badge.

  “Jack Cleary?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m Detective Frank Hall. We have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “Wait a second,” I say, backpedaling as several cops crowd past me. “What’s this about?”

  He hands me the warrant. “It’s all in there, but I’ll make it easy for you. You’re under arrest for the murder of Steven Toscar.”

  • • •

  Before Hall begins the interrogation, I look at the one-way mirror built into the wall. “I want to talk to whoever’s back there.”

  Hall shakes his head. “You aren’t in any position to make demands.”

  “Then we’re finished here.”

  Hall gives me his best tough-cop stare. When I yawn, he glances at the mirror. After a moment, the door opens. Assistant DA Lois Stone strolls in and deposits her briefcase on the table.

  “I’ll take it from here, Detective,” she says. After Hall vacates his chair, she sits down. “Hello, Jack. Fancy meeting you here.”

  Lois Stone is the best prosecutor in the DA’s office. Defense attorneys call her “Stone Cold” because she shows no mercy in court. But she’s no ice queen. Cinnamon-colored, shoulder-length hair frames a face that is more striking than beautiful, and the bookish, tortoise-shell frames she wears complement a pair of jade-green eyes a Mayan would covet. We met years ago when I worked in the DA’s office and she had just passed the bar. I took her under my wing and taught her everything she knows about prosecuting the bad guys. Now I’ll find out if 1 did a good job.

  Stone adjusts the glasses on her nose. “Did they read you your rights?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re consenting to this interview without a lawyer present?”

  “I’m a lawyer, remember?” I always respected Lois Stone, but the look on her face suggests the feeling isn’t mutual. It’ll be a pleasure to wipe that smirk off her face.

  “How could I forget?” She points to the built-in video camera on the wall. “Okay if we tape this?”

  “Sure. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “Okay, then let’s get started.”

  “I didn’t kill Steven Toscar. I’m innocent. I’m being framed.” Stone tilts her head. “Really?” She opens her briefcase and pulls out a folder but doesn’t open it — a ploy I taught her to make a suspect sweat. “You sound a lot like Dexter Bass,” she says. “Except I’m starting to believe him.”

  “That would be a mistake.” I stare at the folder. My heart speeds up. It’s a whole other world on this side of the table.

  “Didn’t you defend Cletus Rupp?” Stone asks. “Something about him stalking his ex-wife?”

  I meet her gaze. “The woman was imagining things. She needed therapy.”

  Stone shrugs as if conceding the point. “Had you seen Rupp recently?”

  “I hadn’t spoken to him since his trial.” Rupp and I met face-to-face. There won’t be a telltale message on his answering machine for the cops to find.

  “No chance encounter?”

  “None.”

  Stone locks her green eyes on me. They’re still as hypnotic as I remember. “Where were you last Monday evening between 9:00 PM and one?”

  Thank God for TiVo. “I was home watching TV.”

  She looks skeptical. “Anybody there with you?”

  “No.”

  Stone lifts a corner of the file. “Did you make any calls, or did anyone call you?”

  “No.” I try to peek inside the folder, but she closes it. It’s another tactic I taught her, but my chest tightens anyway.

  “Did you go anywhere? Have a pizza delivered?”

  “No, I stayed home all night. Look, I’m sorry no one can vouch for me, but I didn’t think I’d need an alibi.”

  Stone ignores my tone. “So what you’re saying is that you didn’t kill Steven Toscar and frame Dexter Bass.”

  I lean close enough to smell her perfume — a hint of lilac. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  Stone twists the ends of her hair around her fingertips. “Well, Jack, I guess that makes you a liar and a murderer.”

  I jerk forward in my chair. “Now just — ”

  “Save it,” Stone snaps. She stares at me and flips open the folder. It’s full of pictures — eight-by-ten blow-ups — and she hands me the top one.

  “This is a photo of you and Cletus Rupp. That is your Beemer, right? The one with SHARK on the plates?” She doesn’t wait for my reply. “You notice the date in the bottom right-hand corner? It was taken two months ago.”

  “You can program a camera to any date.”

  “Is that your defense, Jack? That someone faked the date?”

  I stare at the photo. “I’m just saying it’s possible. So, where did you get this?”


  “We found it in Rupp’s office. You want to tell me about this, Jack?”

  My brain kicks into overdrive, trying to come up with an ex planation Stone will buy. I snap my fingers. “I remember now. Rupp wanted to borrow some money. I told him no, and that was that. It must’ve slipped my mind.”

  Stone leans back in her chair. “I wonder why Rupp felt the need to photograph your meet.”

  “You’d have to ask him.”

  “Too bad we can’t.” Stone pauses. “I’d be worried if I were you, Jack. You’re too young to have Alzheimer’s.”

  Beads of sweat snake down my ribs. “We met one time. That’s the truth.”

  Stone nods. “The truth is good. Who knows? Maybe it’ll set you free.”

  My mouth goes dry. I glance at Hall, and he smirks. I drop my gaze and stare at the scarred tabletop. Stone rattled me with the picture. The pupil has learned some things on her own.

  “So you met just once with Rupp?”

  I look up. Maybe she’s tossing me a lifeline. “Yeah, just the one time.”

  She takes a deep breath and shakes her head, a look of disappointment on her face. She pulls more photos from the file and lines them up in front of me. The dates and locations differ, but each of them shows the same thing: Rupp and me sitting in my car.

  “You know what I think? I think you hired Rupp to murder Steven Toscar and frame Bass. Why? I’m not sure.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe, but right now I feel sorry for Dexter Bass.”

  I hold up my hand. “Wait a minute. Maybe Rupp did this on his own. Maybe after I turned him down, he asked Toscar for money. Rupp had the service contract for Toscar’s pool, and Bass did the work on it.”

  “Bass worked for Rupp?”

  I nod. “For the past two or three months.”

  Stone grabs the file and heads toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  After she leaves, Hall count ceiling tiles while I try to figure a way out of the jam I’m in. Neither of us speaks. Stone returns in a few minutes and hands me a Pepsi.