Guilty or Not. Alice Zogg
Читать онлайн книгу.
old is she?”
“She turned 28 in March.”
“You mentioned that you grew up together; so are you approximately the same age?”
“I’m three years her senior. As a kid, she always came running to me when in trouble,” and an unexpected smile came over his face as he continued, “even as late as high school.”
Huber absentmindedly made an opening move with a white pawn on her chessboard and said, “You need to be straight with me. Are you and Rachel more than just friends?”
He did not rush to answer but rather seemed to carefully mull over the question. He finally said, “If you mean, are we or have we ever been lovers, I can honestly say no. And as far as Rachel goes, I am positive that she only considers me her best platonic friend. As for me, when in elementary school, I loved her as a little sister. During her teen years, I secretly admired her but made sure she had no inkling of it. Ever since she became an adult, I never showed my true feelings for fear that I might lose her friendship.”
Embarrassed, he looked away, and Huber said, “It took great courage to tell me this. Thank you.”
He still did not meet her eyes, staring at the wall behind her.
Huber thought over his plight for a long moment and then suddenly said, “I’ve decided to take on Rachel’s case. I will do my best to get at the truth, but I’m warning you, the truth may not end up being to your liking.”
She eyed him keenly when uttering those words, making sure he understood her meaning.
He looked at her straight on now, and there was no doubt about his perception as he said, “The true facts are all I want. I hope that you can unearth them before Rachel’s trial begins.”
“I’ll talk with her attorney first and then I need to see Rachel herself. So please give me their numbers.”
The doctor complied, and then they discussed her fee, which he had no problem agreeing with. They shook hands and Huber promised to keep him posted. On his way out and already at the door, he suddenly turned around and walked back to her desk.
He said, “When you talk with Rachel, please don’t tell her who hired you. She has a lot of pride and wouldn’t accept such a gift from me.”
Huber watched him leave and waited until he closed the door. Then she made a counter-move with the black knight in her solitaire chess game and thought, what an unusual young man!
CHAPTER 3
The law offices of Rosenthal, Wachterman, & Vogel was a busy place. Paralegals rushed about trying to meet deadlines while secretaries furiously hammered away on their computers. The receptionist was hard at work arguing with someone on the phone, so Huber sat down in the reception area.
She looked at the décor. It had obviously been chosen to create an image. The antique coffee table next to her seemed made of solid oak. On the walls hung two impressionist prints by Camille Pissarro, Boulevard Montmartre and Avenue de l’Opera. Centered between them, she observed an elegant French commode.
At the front desk, the receptionist ended her call and asked, “May I help you?”
“I’m R. A. Huber and have an appointment at noon with Mr. Wachterman.”
The receptionist pushed a button on her phone and announced, “I have Mrs. Huber here.”
Moments later, a young woman appeared and greeted Huber with, “I’m Pamela, David Wachterman’s secretary,” and ushered her into an inner sanctum. Huber followed her down a hallway, where Pamela stopped in front of an open door and stepped aside, saying, “Go on in, please.”
In contrast to the reception area, Wachterman’s office looked plain. The spacious room lacked any kind of ornamentation. There were bookshelves sagging under the weight of legal tomes, a file cabinet, and a large desk cluttered with paperwork and stacks of files. The lawyer, a lanky man in his forties with deep-set gray eyes and brown buzz-cut hair, sat behind his littered desk, pen in hand, writing away, old-fashioned style. He looked up when Huber entered and got to his feet, revealing a bone- colored shirt, a brown-and-blue striped tie, and a tan Armani suit, the jacket of which hung over the back of his chair.
The secretary said, “If you don’t need me any longer, I’ll take my break.”
“Sure, Pam, go ahead,” he said, and she left, closing the door.
The lawyer motioned Huber into a chair while settling back into his own.
Huber said, “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’m aware that my appointment is cutting into your lunch time.”
He brushed it off with a flip of the hand and then said, “I know what you’re all about. I looked you up.”
“Oh?”
“Jonathan Lighthart mentioned that he planned to hire a private eye. When you called my secretary for an appointment and mentioned my client, Rachel Penrose, you made me curious. I learned that you are a licensed P.I. with an excellent track record.” He looked her in the eye and continued, “I’m still curious; what made someone like you go into that line of business?”
Huber said, “You mean, is this little old lady from Pasadena up to bumping heads with criminals?”
“Something like that,” he replied, amused.
“My age and size are actually an advantage. People tend to underestimate me. As it happens, I’m good at detective work. Folks tend to open up to me and part with information they’d hold back when questioned by the authorities. I have an un-muddled mind and can solve puzzles with logic. And most important, I’m stronger than I look and an excellent shot.”
He cleared his throat and said, “If you can find us another plausible suspect, more power to you.”
“You don’t think that’s possible?”
“Anything’s possible, and we’re only in the early stages of discovery, but it looks bleak for Rachel. Although I will argue that the evidence against her is circumstantial, there is no denying that the prosecution has a strong case.”
“Do you believe that she is guilty?”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe; I’ll defend her to the best of my ability.”
Huber gave him an intense stare, but he kept a poker face.
She said, “I learned only the main facts from Dr. Lighthart; there is plenty more I need to know before I can start my investigation.”
“Go ahead.”
“I forgot to ask what Rachel does for a living.”
“She is a speech therapist.”
“Do you know the name and profession of the other woman?”
“What other woman?”
“I mean the person who had an affair with Steven Moretti.”
He fingered among his messy pile of papers in front of him, grabbed a folder and looked inside. Then he gave a brief smirk and said, “An affair is an overstatement. Her name is Jasmine Dewitt and she works at Club Marzipan as a stripper.”
“Interesting.”
“She’ll be the prosecution’s key witness.”
Huber asked, “May I trouble you about giving me names of the victim’s close family, business associates, as well as friends that could have an impact on Rachel’s case?”
He laughed now outright and said, “You want it all, don’t you!” Then he got serious and continued, “Since we are on the same team, I’ll give you the info under one condition: You report back to me as soon as you have a lead.”
“Agreed.”
“I’ll