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looked at the lawyer.
    “I think that's doable.” Zinn scratched a note.
    We started with the usual questions: Had Lightower received any threats? Were they aware of anyone who'd want to do him harm?
    “No.” Gerry Cates shook his head and glanced at the lawyer. “Of course, Mort's financial affairs were paraded all over the media,” he continued. “People are always popping off at shareholder meetings. Financial watchdogs. Hell, you want to redo your kitchen, they're crying you're bleeding the company.”
    Jacobi sniffed. “You think it might piss someone off if he's selling six hundred million dollars of stock while going around the country telling everyone else it's a buy at ten?”
    “We can't control our share price, Inspector,” Cates replied, clearly upset by the question.
    A tense silence settled over the room.
    “You'll provide us a list of all your clients,” I said.
    “Doable.” The lawyer jotted down a note again.
    “And we'll need access to his private computers, e-mail, and correspondence.” I lobbed a grenade at the CLO.
    The lawyer's pen never touched the page. “Those files are private, Lieutenant. I think I'd better check our legal footing before I can agree to that.”
    “I thought you were the legal footing,” Jacobi said with a grin.
    “Your boss has been murdered, Mr. Zinn. I'm afraid they're our matters now. There was a note at the bomb scene,” I said. I pushed across a copy of the photo. “It referred to Morton Lightower as an `enemy of the people.' There's a name at the bottom, August Spies. Mean anything to either of you?”
    Zinn blinked. Cates took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly blank.
    “I don't need to remind you that this is a murder investi-gation,” I said. “If anyone's holding something back, now would be the time...”
    “No one's holding anything back,” Gerry Cates said stiffly.
    “You probably want to talk to Helene now.” The CLO straightened his pad, as if the meeting was over.
    “What I want is Lightower's office sealed, now. And I want access to all correspondence. Computer files as well. And e-mail.”
    “I'm not sure that's doable, Lieutenant.” Chuck Zinn arched back in his chair.
    “Let me tell you what's doable, Mr. Zinn.” I fastened on his phony, compliant grin. “What's doable is that we're back here in two hours with a subpoena, and anything deleted from those files in the past twenty-four hours goes under the heading of impeding a murder investigation. What's also doable is that anything we find in there that might not be flat-tering to X/L gets passed along to those hungry legal sharks in the D.A.'s office. Any of that sound doable, Mr. Zinn?”
    Gerry Cates leaned toward his lawyer. “Chuck, maybe we could work something out.”
    “Of course we can work something out.” Zinn nodded. “But I'm afraid that's all we have time for today. And you must be busy as well. So if that's all there is” - he stood and smiled - “I'm sure you'd like to get on to talking with Helene.”

Womans Murder Club 3 - 3rd Degree

Chapter 18
    IT TOOK ME all of about six seconds after storming out the doors of X/L to place an urgent call to Jill. I took her through the frustrating meeting I'd just come out of.
    “You're looking for a subpoena,” Jill cut me off, “to get into Lightower's files?”
    “Duh, Jill, and fast, before they send in the Arthur Ander-sen boys to do a little office tidying.”
    “Any evidence there's anything in Lightower's computer to back that up?”
    “Call me suspicious, Jill, but when a guy I'm interviewing starts to twist around like a cod on a fishing line, those little police antennae behind my ears always go twang.”
    “How do they go, Lindsay?” Jill chuckled back.
    “Twang,” I said, more firmly. “C'mon, Jill, I'm not screw-ing around.”
    “Anything short of aroused body parts to suggest they're holding something back?” The blood began to roil in my chest. “You're not gonna do this for me, are