The Alibi

“You need a drink.”

“Your solution for everything.”

“Not for everything. Not by a long shot. But it can be a Band-Aid cure for a bad mood.” She ordered him a bourbon and water.

In less than a minute, he had the drink in his hand and was taking a sip. “You look good.”

She laughed around a swallow of club soda. “Maybe when viewed through the bottom of a highball glass.”

She had undergone noticeable improvements since Monday night. She was far better groomed, her clothes were clean and pressed. Correctly applied makeup had softened the lines in her face. Her eyes were bright and clear. Although she had tried to laugh off his compliment, he could tell she was flattered.

“I’ve cleaned up a little, is all.”

“Put some color in your hair?”

“Bev’s idea.”

“Good one.”

“Thanks.” Self-consciously she raised her hand and patted her rejuvenated hairdo. “She was happy to hear I had a job. I told her it was just temporary, but, well, she was still glad. She let me move back into the apartment, under the condition—she’s big on conditions, just like you—that I keep perfect attendance at the AA meetings.”

“How’re you doing?”

“I get the morning shakes, but I’m dealing with it.”

“That’s good, Loretta. That’s real good,” he said, meaning it. He paused, signaling the conclusion of that topic before moving on to the reason for the meeting. “What have you got for me?”

She winked. “The motherlode. You’ll probably recommend that I get a staff position with the solicitor’s office. You might even ask me to have your children.”

“That good?”

He set his drink aside. It wasn’t mixing well with the one he’d drunk at Davee’s party. Besides, he got the feeling that the information he was about to receive would be upsetting, and it would be better dealt with if his head were clear.

“I have a mole who shall remain nameless, a real computer geek—”

“Knuckle.”

“You know him?”

“Harvey’s my mole, too. He’s everybody’s mole.”

“Are you shitting me?” she asked, astonished and more than a little abashed and angry.

“You weaseled him, right?”

“Damn!” she said, slapping the tabletop. “I can’t believe that pompous little fucker made me feel guilty for twisting his arm and trying to get him to compromise his integrity.”

“He’s thoroughly corruptible. That’s why I didn’t go to him directly. He’s untrustworthy.”

Hammond wasn’t worried that Harvey’s delving into Alex’s records would be traced back to him. He believed Loretta when she vowed they would have to cut out her tongue before she would betray his confidence. But he wondered if anyone else had tried to coerce Knuckle for the same purpose. “When you approached him, did Harvey know anything about the case?”

“He didn’t appear to. But now I’m doubting him, as well as my own instincts. Why?”

Hammond raised a shoulder. “I’m just curious if anyone else asked him to run a trace on Dr. Ladd.”

“Like Steffi Mundell?”

“Or Smilow.”