A Is for Alibi Read Online Free PDF

together. Same fraternity. Laurence was a playboy. Everything came easily to him. Law school, he went to Harvard, I went to Arizona State. His family had money. Mine had none. I lost track of him for a few years and then I heard he'd opened his own law firm here in town. So I came out and talked to him about going to work for him and he said fine. He made me a partner two years later.”

    "Was he married to his first wife then?”

    "Yeah, Gwen. She's still around town someplace but I'd be a little careful with her. She ended up bitter as hell and I've heard she's got surly things to say about him. She has a doggrooming place up on State Street somewhere if that's any help. I try to avoid running into her myself.”

    He was watching me steadily and I got the impression that he knew exactly how much he would tell me and exactly how much he would not.

    "What about Sharon Napier? Did she work for him long?”

    "She was here when I hired on, though she did precious little. I finally ended up hiring a girl of my own.

    "She and Laurence got along okay?”

    "As far as I know. She hung around until the trial was over and then she took off. She stiffed me for some money I'd advanced against her salary. If you run into her, I'd love to hear about it. Send her a bill or something just to let her know I haven't forgotten old times.”

    "Does the name Libby Glass mean anything to you?”

    "Who?”

    "She was the accountant who handled your business down in L.A. She worked for Haycraft and McNiece.”

    Scorsoni continued to look blank for a moment and then shook his head. "What's she got to do with it?”

    "She was also killed with oleander right about the time Laurence died," I said. He didn't seem to react with any particular shock or dismay. He made a skeptical pull at his lower lip and then shrugged.

    "It's a new one on me but I'll take your word for it," he said.

    "You never met her yourself?”

    "I must have. Laurence and I shared the paperwork but he had most of the actual contact with the business managers. I pitched in occasionally though, so I probably ran into her at some point.”

    "I've heard he was having an affair with her," I said.

    "I don't like to gossip about the dead," Scorsoni said.

    "Me neither, but he did play around," I said carefully. "I don't mean to push the point, but there were plenty of women who testified to that at the trial.”

    Scorsoni smiled at the box he was drawing on his legal pad. The look he gave me then was shrewd.
    "Well, I'll say this. One, the guy never forced himself on anyone. And two, I don't believe he would get himself involved with a business associate. That was not his style.”

    "What about his clients? Didn't he get involved with them?”

    "No comment.”

    "Would you get in bed with a female client?" I asked.

    "Mine are all eighty years old so the answer is no. I do estate planning. He did divorce." He glanced at his watch and then pushed his chair back. "I hate to cut this short but it's fourfifteen now and I have a brief to prepare.”

    "Sorry. I didn't mean to take up your time. It was nice of you to see me on such short notice.”

    Scorsoni walked me out toward the front, his big body exuding heat. He held the door open for me, his left arm extending up along the doorframe. Again, that barely suppressed male animal seemed to peer out through his eyes. "Good luck," he said. "I suspect you won't turn up much.”

    I picked up the eight-by-ten glossies of the sidewalk crack I'd photographed for California Fidelity. The six shots of the broken concrete were clear enough. The claimant, Marcia Threadgill, had filed for disability, asserting that she'd stumbled on the jutting slab of sidewalk that had been forced upward by a combination of tree roots and shifting soil. She was suing the owner of the craft shop whose property encompassed the errant walkway. The claim, a "slip and fall" case, wasn't a large one—maybe forty—eight hundred dollars, which included her