Crouching Buzzard, Leaping Loon(85)
“Is that likely?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Depends,” she said.
“Depends on what?”
“On whether he finds an attorney stupid enough to take his case,” she said. “It’ll never hold up in court - he can’t even find his own copy of the noncompete agreement, which is probably why he’s so off base about what it says. Of course, he claims someone stole it, for heaven’s sake. At any rate, it’s not very likely he’ll get someone to take it on contingency, and so far he hasn’t convinced anyone he’s got the wherewithal to pay.”
“I almost think you enjoy these legal battles.”
“Of course not,” she said, frowning. “I’d rather prevent them. But I do feel a certain satisfaction when I know I’ve done whatever needs to be done to take care of a problem. Which reminds me - according to your father, you’re close to solving the murder.”
“I wish,” I said. “Dad’s an optimist. I’m a realist. I’m just trying to keep the chief from railroading Rob.”
“Wouldn’t solving the case be the best way of doing that?”
“Naturally,” I said, fighting back a yawn. “But that’s easier said than done. I’m just trying to dig up enough dirt on enough people to convince the chief that Rob isn’t the only one with a motive for killing Ted. As soon as I’ve accomplished that, I’ll give up sleuthing so I can catch up on my sleep.”
She studied my face for a moment, then nodded. “Makes sense,” she said. “I should get back to work.”
I followed her back into the reception area.
“Make sure the police know about as many of the trespassing incidents as possible,” she said, and headed back to the library.
“Tough lady,” Frankie said.
Why did I have a feeling he’d have said something shorter and less complimentary if I hadn’t been there. Jack’s face didn’t give away anything; he just nodded and headed back to his desk, leaving Frankie to guard our captive.
So she was tough - did they really want one of their former coworkers to steal everything they’d been working on so hard and hand it to the competition? They were all so excited about their stock options - didn’t they understand that the stock options weren’t worth beans unless Mutant Wizards continued to prosper? light suddenly dawned. I’d be willing to bet that Liz was the Iron Maiden on Ted’s list. And what had Ted said about the Iron Maiden? I went back to my desk and fished in my drawer for the blackmail printout.
“No dice,” read the notation beside the Iron Maiden. “Can’t even get time of day.”
Made sense.
And what about Eugene Mason’s claims that someone had stolen his copy of the agreement? What if someone had? What if Ted had stolen it, and Mason had found out, and Ted’s murder was the result?
Next time Liz spotted Mason lurking outside, I’d have to go out and interrogate him, I decided. And I should study his personnel file, to see if perhaps he seemed to match any of the names on Ted’s blackmail list.
The front door opened and the chief walked in, accompanied by several uniformed officers.
“That was fast,” I said.
“We were already on our way over,” the chief said.
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that.
“Anything we can do for you?” I said.
“You’ve done a great deal for us already, thank you,” the chief said.
I frowned and looked more closely at him. Usually when people said something like that to me, they were being sarcastic. The chief seemed serious.
“How?” I asked.
“That computer printout you gave us,” the chief said. “That proved to be very useful. So what seems to be the trouble here?”
“We caught her trying to break in,” I said, indicating the intruder.
I could tell Frankie really wanted to hang around, but now that I didn’t need him for guard duty, I didn’t think Jack would appreciate my keeping him from work, so I shooed him off. The chief took a short statement from me and then dispatched two of the uniformed officers to take her down to the station.
“Anything else we can do for you?” the chief asked.
“That’s about it,” I said.