Sleight of Hand - By Phillip Margolin Page 0,57

sure you were convicted.”

“You think I was set up by the police?”

“It’s possible.”

“But the key would have to have been put in the grave when Carrie was buried. I still had it when she disappeared.”

“The police took your keys when you were booked into the jail on the gun charge. If the person who killed Carrie planted the key, he could have gotten it from the property room and put the key in the grave. Or the key could have been dropped in the grave while the grave was being uncovered. The key is small. It would fit in a palm. You could let it fall in one section and cover it with dirt while the diggers were working on another section. ”

“But that means Detective Robb or Santoro might have killed Carrie.”

“Or anyone else who was at the grave site.”

“Robb and Santoro put me in isolation. Either one could have made sure I was put in a cell next to Lester.”

“Good thinking,” Benedict said. “I hope we’re wrong, but I’m going to have my investigators look into Robb’s and Santoro’s backgrounds to see if either one had a grudge against Carrie or was particularly close to her.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Dana Cutler decided that she couldn’t put off telling the detectives in charge of the Blair case about the Ottoman Scepter any longer, so she drove to Lee County to watch Horace Blair’s bail hearing, certain that one of them would be a witness. The courtroom was packed and the only seat Dana could find was a narrow space in the last row of the spectator section between a slovenly, obese man in a malodorous tracksuit and the bright-eyed assistant commonwealth attorney who had created the space by edging away from her foul-smelling benchmate. The young prosecutor was one of several who were in the courtroom to watch Rick Hamada in action.

When Dana finished wedging herself in place she shifted her attention to the front of the room, where a guard was escorting Horace Blair to the defense table. Charles Benedict walked over to his client, giving Dana her first chance to get a good look at Horace Blair’s lawyer. She studied him closely and could not shake the notion that he looked just like the man Dana had seen with Carrie Blair when Dana was working the Lars Jorgenson insurance case.

Dana had a copy of the photograph she’d taken of Carrie and the mystery man on her phone so she could show it to the detectives. She found it and compared the man with Carrie to Charles Benedict. There was no question in her mind that Carrie’s companion and Horace Blair’s attorney were the same person.

Why would Horace Blair’s lawyer and Horace Blair’s wife be together so early in the morning? There was one obvious answer, and Dana realized that she had more to talk about with the detectives than she had thought when she entered the courtroom.

Dana listened intently to Frank Santoro’s testimony. When the lawyers were through with him, Judge Gardner called a recess. Santoro spoke briefly with Hamada before heading up the aisle. Dana intercepted him at the courtroom door.

“Detective Santoro, my name is Dana Cutler. I’m a private investigator and I’d like to talk to you about the Blair case.”

Santoro remembered Carrie’s Internet search for information about the investigator. Then he remembered something he had read about Dana and he frowned.

“You write stories for that supermarket tabloid Exposed, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to interview you. I’m not writing a story. I have information about this case you should know. There’s no quid pro quo involved.”

“What kind of information?”

“Look, it’s complicated. Can we meet after court?”

Santoro hesitated.

“I was a cop before I went private, Detective. I’m not going to jack you around. You have my word.”

“Okay. There’s a coffee shop about two blocks from here, Fallon’s. I’ll meet you there when we break for lunch, and I’ll bring my partner.”

“See you then,” Dana said.

Dana was in a booth, sipping a cup of black coffee, when the detectives walked in.

“It’s an honor,” Stephanie Robb said as she and Santoro slid into the bench seat across from Dana.

Robb had just made detective when Dana butchered the bikers who gang-raped her. That act made Dana a hero to Robb, and to many other women in law enforcement.

Dana nodded but didn’t say anything. She hoped Robb was referring to the case involving President Farrington and not the incident with the bikers. She’d been insane when she killed the meth cooks, and she’d