Page 175 of The Alibi


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“I didn’t believe it myself,” Alex said. “And apparently Bobby wasn’t entirely convinced, either, because he approached me again, this time insisting that I be the one to meet Pettijohn and collect the cash. I agreed to.”

“In God’s name, why?” Frank asked.

“Because I saw it as an opportunity to rid myself of Bobby. My idea was to meet Pettijohn, but instead of collecting the cash, I was going to explain the situation and urge him to report Bobby’s extortion to the police.”

“Why not go to the police yourself?”

“In hindsight, I see that would have been the better choice.” She sighed. “But I feared the association with Bobby. He had boasted about his escape from a loan shark in Florida. There were numerous reasons I wanted to stay one step removed from him.”

“So you went to the Charles Towne Plaza at the appointed time.”

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t call Pettijohn on the telephone?”

“I wish I had, Frank. But I thought that meeting him in person would make a stronger impression.”

“What happened when you got there?”

“He was courteous. He politely listened as I explained the situation.” She sat down on the edge of the love seat and stroked her forehead.

“And?”

“And then he laughed at me,” she said shakily. “I should have known the instant he opened the door that something was out of kilter. He wasn’t surprised to see me, although he should have been expecting Bobby. But I didn’t realize that until later.”

“He knew you were coming, not Bobby, and he laughed at your story.”

“Yes,” she said forlornly. “Bobby had called ahead and told Pettijohn I was coming, told him that I was his double-crossing partner, warned him that I would probably concoct a sob story, one guaranteed to make him feel sorry for me, before luring him into bed and creating my own chance to blackmail him for more of a prize than Bobby was asking.”

“I didn’t give that son of a bitch enough credit,” Hammond muttered angrily. “Trimble doesn’t look that smart.”

“He’s not smart,” Alex said. “Just crafty. Bobby’s got more gall than sense, and that makes him dangerous. When he sees an opportunity, he takes risks that no intelligent person would consider taking. He also knows the advantage of striking first.

“Nothing I said convinced Pettijohn that I wasn’t part of some devious grand scheme involving sex and blackmail. He suggested that I not squander the opportunity. As long as we were there, and I had my heart set on taking him to bed… You get my drift.”

“He came on to you?” Frank guessed.

“I resisted, of course. Knocked his arm aside. I’m sure that’s when the clove got on his sleeve. I’d spiked the oranges with them that morning. A speck must have still been on my hand. Anyway, I spurned him, and he got angry and began issuing his own threats, specifically that he had an appointment with a prosecutor from the County Solicitor’s Office. Hammond Cross.” She glanced at him. “He said no doubt you would be interested in Bobby’s and my scam.”

After a moment, she continued, “I panicked. I saw my carefully reconstructed life falling apart. The Ladds, who had placed such confidence in me, would be disgraced. Doubt would be cast on my credibility, rendering my studies worthless. Patients whose trust I had won would feel betrayed.

“So I ran. In the elevator I started shaking uncontrollably. When I reached the lobby level, I went into the bar looking for a place to sit down, because my knees felt ready to buckle.

“But when my panic subsided, I realized what an irrational reaction it was. In seconds, I had regressed to where I’d been when Bobby had controlled my life. There in the bar, I came to my senses. My juvenile record was decades behind me. I am a respected member of my community. I’m acclaimed in my field. What was I afraid of? I had done nothing wrong. If I could convince the right person that once again my half-brother was trying to exploit me, I possibly could get rid of him forever. Who better to make a believer than—”

“Hammond Cross, assistant county solicitor.”

“Correct.” She nodded up at Frank. “So I returned to the room on the fifth floor. When I got there, the door to the suite was ajar. I put my ear to it, but couldn’t hear any conversation. I pushed it open and looked in. Pettijohn was lying face down near the coffee table.”

“Did you realize he was dead?”

“He wasn’t,” she said, drawing a shocked reaction from both men. “I didn’t want to touch him, but I did. He had a pulse, but he was unconscious. I didn’t want to be caught with him in that condition when my former partner in crime was blackmailing him. So once again I virtually ran from the suite. This time I took the stairs down. We must have just missed each other,” she said to Hammond. “When I reached the lobby, I spotted you leaving the hotel by the main doors.”

“How did you know me?”

“I recognized you from your media exposure. You looked very upset. I thought—”

“That I had attacked Pettijohn.”

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