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For Julie Young, the recently retired Executive Director of Chess for Success. Thank you for your extraordinary service to an extraordinary nonprofit program that has been serving Oregon and Washington’s children for a quarter of a century. Your brilliant leadership made the program what it is today.
PROLOGUE
2020
For her fifth birthday, Robin Lockwood received a magic kit with one hundred easy-to-learn tricks and proceeded to “astonish” her parents and brothers whenever she could trap them. After that, she was hooked, and she begged to see celebrated magicians whenever they appeared on television. Tonight, one of her clients was going to debut the Chamber of Death, his greatest illusion, in front of a packed house in the Imperial Theater.
Robin had a personal interest in seeing Robert Chesterfield perform this illusion. Several years ago, she had been present at Lord Chesterfield’s seaside mansion when the dress rehearsal of the trick had ended in a truly bizarre manner. She hoped that she would see the finished product tonight.
The lights dimmed and Robin focused on the stage, determined to figure out how the seemingly impossible trick was done. Three women in hooded robes pushed a sarcophagus down the aisle and onto the stage, and Lord Chesterfield, dressed like an Egyptian high priest, was locked inside. Two of the magician’s assistants lifted handfuls of poisonous snakes and scorpions out of glass cages and fed them into the coffin. Robin knew what was going to happen next, but she still tensed when hideous screams issued from the coffin and Chesterfield begged to be released from his prison. Then the screams stopped and eerie music floated through the theater. One of Chesterfield’s assistants unlocked the padlocks that secured the lid of the sarcophagus and raised it.
Robin expected Chesterfield to have vanished from the coffin, only to miraculously appear in the back of the theater, but that didn’t happen. One of the magician’s assistants looked in the coffin. Then she screamed. Moments later, everyone in the theater knew that there was a dead man in the sarcophagus.
What Robin couldn’t figure out was how the man had been murdered in front of three thousand people without anyone knowing who had killed him.
PART ONE
THE CHAMBER OF DEATH
2017
CHAPTER ONE
On a Monday morning in March of 2017, Robin Lockwood rose before the sun and ran the five miles from her apartment to McGill’s gym.
For years, the Pearl had been a decaying warehouse district. Then the developers invaded and expensive condos, boutiques, art galleries, and trendy restaurants sprang up like mushrooms after a heavy rain. The old brick building in which McGill’s gym was housed was one of the few places that had evaded the agents of gentrification.
Barry McGill, the gym’s owner, had been a top ten middleweight many moons and pounds ago, and his idea of what a gym was supposed to be had gone out of fashion about the same time he started ballooning up to heavyweight. McGill’s wasn’t air-conditioned, it stank from sweat, and it didn’t have a pool or spa. That turned off the millennials and young professionals who worked out so they would look good in the Pearl’s singles bars, but it did attract professional boxers and mixed martial arts combatants, masochistic weight lifters, and serious bodybuilders. Anyone wearing spandex need not apply. Robin fit right in.
Robin had been the first girl in her state to place in a boys’ high school wrestling championship. She didn’t try out for the wrestling team in college, because her university fielded a top NCAA Division I squad, but there was a gym near the school that taught mixed martial arts. By Robin’s first semester at Yale Law School, she was ranked ninth in the UFC in her weight class and her fans sang the old rock and roll song “Rockin’ Robin” when she walked into the octagon.
Robin’s UFC career ended shortly after law school started. Mandy Kerrigan, a top contender, had a fight scheduled on a pay-per-view card in Las Vegas. When her opponent was injured a week before the fight, Robin was asked to fill in. Robin saw the fight as a chance for fame and glory. Her manager told her it was a huge mistake. Robin admitted he had been right, as soon as she regained consciousness. Short-term memory loss convinced her that it was time to stop fighting, but she still loved to work out.
Barry McGill was a crusty old bastard, but he had a soft spot for Robin. “Your gal pal, Martinez, is over by the weights,” he called out when he spotted her heading for the locker room. “Think you two girls can stop gabbing long enough to work up a sweat?”
“Let us girls know when you’re ready to go a few rounds, Barry, and I’ll put the EMTs on notice,” Robin shot back. “They have a special rate for AARP members.”
McGill chuckled and Robin gave him the finger.
After she changed into her workout gear, Robin joined Sally Martinez, who was doing curls in front of a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Martinez was a CPA who had won all-American honors wrestling for Pacific University and had trained in mixed martial arts. Sally and Robin sparred together occasionally, but Sally usually worked out in the evening.
“What are you doing here so early?”
“Tax season. I’ve got to get my workouts in while I can.”
Robin and Sally were a study in contrasts. Robin was five eight with a wiry build; a midwesterner with blond hair and blue eyes that proclaimed her Nordic ancestry. Sally’s brown skin and straight black hair were clues that her parents had emigrated from Mexico. She was shorter than Robin but more muscular.
After Robin warmed up, they walked over to the mats and began circling each other. Robin saw an opening and snapped a front kick. Sally slipped past it, grabbed Robin’s ankle, kicked her other leg out from under her, and put Robin in a submission hold.
Robin tapped out and they got to their feet. Sally shot a double leg tackle and threw Robin to the mat. They scrambled for a few seconds before Sally wrapped her legs around Robin’s waist in a figure four and put her in a choke hold.
“You’re slow as molasses this morning,” Sally said when they were standing again.
“A case kept me tossing and turning all night,” Robin answered.
“You sure it wasn’t Jeff?”
Robin blushed. When Sally laughed, Robin took her down with a single leg tackle.
“Hey, that’s cheating,” Sally complained.
* * *
After her workout, Robin showered and changed into the clothes she kept in her locker before walking across town to the law offices of Barrister, Berman & Lockwood.
The walls of the firm’s reception area were decorated with photographs of Haystack Rock, Multnomah Falls, Mount Hood, and other Oregon landmarks, and it was furnished with several chairs, a sofa, and end tables covered by magazines. When Robin entered the waiting area, Linda Garrett, the receptionist, motioned her over.
“What’s up?” Robin asked.
Garrett nodded toward an elegantly dressed gentleman who was thumbing through a magazine.
“He w
anted to see Miss Barrister. I told him that she’d retired, so he asked if he could see one of the other attorneys. Mark is out of town taking depositions, and I wasn’t sure you could fit him in.”
When Robin walked over to him, the man put down the magazine and stood up.
“I’m Robin Lockwood, one of the partners.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the man said in a charming British accent. “I’m Robert Chesterfield, and I was hoping to discuss a legal matter with Regina Barrister.”
“Miss Barrister has retired.”
“So I was told. I must say that I was surprised to hear that. She was in her late thirties when she represented me, which means she would only be sixty-something now. I assumed she’d still be practicing.”
“She was able to take early retirement,” Robin said, not wanting to reveal the real reason Regina had been forced to leave the practice of law. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Perhaps.”
“Why don’t we go back to my office?”
When Regina left to travel the world, Mark had graciously given Robin Regina’s corner office. The floor on which the firm did business was high enough above the lobby of a glass-and-steel high-rise in downtown Portland to give Robin a spectacular view of the Willamette River, the foothills of the Cascade Range, and the snowcaps that crowned Mount Hood and Mount St. Helens.
“Why did you want to see Regina?” Robin asked when Chesterfield was seated across the desk from her.
“I’m a professional magician, and I want to get a patent for the Chamber of Death, a new illusion I’m developing for a show I’m going to perform in Las Vegas.”
Robin smiled. “That sounds terrifying.”
Chesterfield returned the smile. “My hope is that it will also be mystifying.”
Robin laughed. Then she grew serious. “Unfortunately, even if Regina were still practicing, she wouldn’t have been able to help you. She specialized in criminal defense. I don’t think she ever handled an intellectual property case.”
“What about you? Can you help me?”
“I’m afraid not. Criminal law is also my specialty. I wouldn’t know the first thing about patenting a magic trick. I don’t even know if you can get a patent for a magic illusion.”
“What about Mr. Berman? Could he secure my patent?”
“Mark specializes in civil litigation. I doubt that he’s ever handled a case involving a patent.”
“Miss Lockwood, if I retained your firm to represent me in a patent case, would you be my attorneys if I became embroiled in a matter in a completely different field of law?”
“What area are you talking about? It would have to be something our firm is competent to handle.”
“Are you a good criminal defense attorney?”
“I do okay.”
Chesterfield gestured toward the wall where Robin’s diplomas were displayed. “I see you’re an Eli. I’ve heard that it is incredibly difficult to gain admission to Yale’s law school, so you are both brilliant and modest, a charming combination for someone in your profession.”
“I love flattery, Mr. Chesterfield, but, unfortunately, we won’t be able to take on your case. I can give you the names of some excellent intellectual property attorneys.”
“I’ve decided that I want your firm to represent me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
Chesterfield held up his right hand and pulled his sleeve up to his elbow. He turned the hand so she could see the palm and the back. Then he said, “Abracadabra.”
When he rotated his hand again, a check appeared.
Chesterfield laid it on Robin’s desk. “If Regina thought enough of you to make you a partner, I know I can trust you to handle my affairs. All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind. Research the patent question for me, then decide what you want to do. This check is for five thousand dollars made out to your firm. Put it in your trust account. If you decide you can’t represent me, return the balance after deducting your fee for this meeting and for any research you might do on my behalf.”
Five thousand dollars was a decent retainer, but Robin had doubts about whether it was ethical to take the magician’s money.
Chesterfield seemed to read Robin’s mind. “I can see you have concerns, so I’m willing to sign a document in which I state that you have fully informed me about your lack of experience in the field of patent law and that I am retaining you despite this fact.” Chesterfield made a business card appear out of thin air and handed it to Robin. “I’m staying in town for a few days. Give me a call when you’ve reached a decision.”
As Chesterfield stood up to leave, Robin thought of something. “You said Miss Barrister represented you many years ago. What type of case was it?”
“One she was definitely competent to handle,” Chesterfield said. Then he walked out of Robin’s office.
As soon as Chesterfield left, Robin walked to Mary Stendahl’s office. Mary had been Regina’s secretary and was the only person in the office who had been with Regina from the time she started her practice until she retired.
Stendahl was one of those women who look great with gray hair. Though she was in her late sixties, she looked ten years younger, and she kept in the tip-top shape she had to be in to keep up with six grandchildren by hiking and mountain climbing.
“Did you see the man who just left?” Robin asked.
“No.”
“He said that Regina represented him when she was in her late thirties. You were with her then, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m curious about the old case.”
“What’s the man’s name?” Stendahl asked.
“Robert Chesterfield. He’s a magician.”
Stendahl’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my goodness! Robert Chesterfield. I definitely remember that case. He was charged with murder. Actually, it might have been more than one.”
“What can you tell me about the case?”
“Not much. I started as a receptionist, so I didn’t know the details. I do remember that it got a lot of publicity, but if you want the inside scoop, you’d better talk to Regina.”
“Would we still have the case files?”
Mary thought for a moment. “We might. If we did, they’d be in the basement in storage.”
“Can you check to see if they’re there?”
“Do you want them now?”
“There’s no rush. We’re probably not going to represent him. I’m just curious.”
Robin left Mary’s office and headed for the coffee room, preoccupied with thoughts of Robert Chesterfield. She loved magic, and the idea of representing a professional magician excited her. But she was also aware of the rules of ethics that governed her profession. It was a no-no to take on a client when you weren’t competent in the area of law in which they needed help, and Robin didn’t know a damn thing about patent law.
Robin was so preoccupied by thoughts of Robert Chesterfield that she started to pass Jeff Hodges’s office without looking in. The firm’s in-house investigator was six two with long, shaggy reddish blond hair, green eyes, pale freckled skin, and a face covered with telltale scars that were reminders of the injuries he’d suffered in an explosion in a meth lab when he was a police officer.
When Robin joined the firm, she had wondered about the origin of the scars and Jeff’s limp. The more she got to know Jeff, the more she found herself attracted to him. Then someone tried to kill her. In the aftermath, she asked Jeff to make love to her. Jeff had turned her down gently. He told her that it was her adrenaline talking, and reminded her that office romances were a very bad idea. Robin appreciated Jeff’s gallantry, but there was a mutual attraction they couldn’t ignore. After another life-and-death situation, they had made love. Jeff had moved in with her a few months ago.
“You were up and out early,” Hodges called to her.
Robin stopped. “I went to the gym. I needed to cleanse my system after last night’s dru
nken orgy.”
“You call a few beers and a roll in the hay an orgy? You’re betraying your small-town origins.”
“Hey, we had tons of orgies where I grew up.”
Jeff laughed and Robin remembered Chesterfield.
“You have a second?”
“For you, always.”
Robin walked into Jeff’s office and plopped down on one of Jeff’s client chairs. “I just had a really weird experience,” she said. Then she told Jeff about the magician’s visit.
“Do you know anything about the Chesterfield case?” she asked when she was through.
“That was way before I joined the firm. Are you going to try and get him his patent?”
“I don’t think I should. I feel like I’d be asking for a malpractice suit. Although, I must admit I’m tempted. I love magic, and it would be really cool to know the secret behind one of these amazing illusions.”
“You should watch that television show. You know, the one where Mysterioso, the magician in the mask, reveals how famous magic tricks are done.”
Robin flushed with anger. “I hate that show and I think Mysterioso is disgusting. He’s ruining the fun of millions of people by destroying the wonder other magicians create.”
“Whoa. Why don’t you tell me what you really think?”
“Giving away the secret behind a magician’s tricks should be a criminal offense.”
“Sorry I brought it up.”
Now Robin blushed. “No, I’m sorry I went off. I shouldn’t have gotten so worked up, but that guy really pisses me off. Anyway, I’m going to wait to talk to Mark before I decide if we should turn down Chesterfield.”
“Are you going to ask Regina about the case she handled for him?”
“I was planning on visiting her today. I can ask her this afternoon.”
CHAPTER TWO
A Reasonable Doubt Page 1