pull one of his sleight-of-hand tricks in the bar at the Theodore Roosevelt. She was certain another magician could explain the disappearance of the cocaine and how Benedict had substituted the baking powder.
“Justin, can you look in the toilets and pipes in the men’s room and tell if the cocaine was flushed down it?”
“I might be able to find traces if no one used the toilets or sinks after it was flushed but there’s probably a lot of traffic in that restroom.”
“Get a crew up there. I’ll have the janitor close the room.”
Wing left and Blair called the janitor again.
“What do you want me to do?” Maguire asked.
“Go home. This isn’t your fault.”
“But I—”
“Stop. You are not to blame yourself, do you hear? I know who’s to blame.”
Seconds after Mary Maguire and Justin Wing left her office, Carrie’s cell phone rang.
“Yeah,” she said distractedly.
“It’s me, Charlie.”
“You son of a bitch . . .”
“Calm down. I know you’re mad, but we have to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about unless you want to confess.”
“It’s about your prenup.”
Carrie froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“I know all the details but I don’t want to discuss this over the phone. Drive to my condo at eleven tonight. Go down the back alley and park in my garage. I’ll leave the garage door up.”
“I’m not going to your house.”
“Then I’ll have to show Horace the DVD.”
“What DVD?”
“Tonight, eleven o’clock. Don’t be late.”
Chapter Ten
Less than an hour after the case of Commonwealth v. Ross disappeared, Devon Ross deposited a hefty bonus in an offshore account Charles Benedict kept for income resulting from special illusions such as the magic tricks that had led to the mystifying disappearance of things like Kyle’s cocaine and the late Norman Krueger. Benedict celebrated at his favorite restaurant with a fine wine, a foie gras appetizer, and a steak that melted like butter the moment it touched his tongue.
The attorney arrived home a little after ten and parked in his garage, leaving space for Carrie Blair’s Porsche. Then he got a DVD from the safe in his bedroom and slipped a snubnose .38 revolver into his pocket. Carrie was rumored to have a bad temper and he wanted to be prepared.
Promptly at eleven, Benedict heard a car drive into his garage. He opened the door that led from the garage to the first floor and pressed a button to close the garage door. Carrie Blair stomped up the stairs and pointed an accusing finger at him.
“You used Kyle Ross’s outburst to distract everyone’s attention. Then you switched the cocaine for baking soda.”
“Whoa,” Benedict replied calmly as he held up his hands in a mock defensive gesture. “That’s too many negative vibes for such a mellow hour of the evening.”
“You think you’re so clever. You just had to show off with those sleight-of-hand tricks at the Theodore Roosevelt, knowing I’d remember what you’d done when the coke disappeared. Tomorrow I’m going to find a magician who will show me how you pulled the switch, but right now I’m having the plumbing in the fifth-floor men’s room examined, and you know what we’re going to find?”
“I would assume feces and urine.”
“We’ll see how funny you are when I have you perp-walked out of your office with as many TV crews as I can get to film every moment.”
“I’m sorry you have such a low opinion of me.”
“It was always low, but this stunt . . .”
“There wasn’t any stunt, and I don’t appreciate being accused of dishonesty. Besides, you and I have more important things to discuss than Kyle Ross. Would you like a drink?”
“No. Now get to the point.”
“You have a prenuptial agreement that is supposed to be a secret between you and your hubby. You stand to lose a fortune if you tell anyone about the agreement or if you have an affair before it terminates.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Carrie, you told me all about the agreement the evening you stayed here.”
“What?”
“You were pretty drunk, so you probably don’t remember what you said.”
“If such an agreement existed I would have nothing to worry about because I haven’t cheated on Horace since we were married.”
“Actually, you have. Remember when I told you that nothing happened between us the evening you were here?” Benedict cast down his eyes shyly. “I lied.”
“You what!”
“I have a—what do they call them on those celebrity news shows?—a sex tape. It shows a naked Carrie Blair in several intimate positions on my bed. It’s