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Meanwhile, the more he talked, the more ammunition he was giving her to use against him
. Unwittingly, he was handing her the job of county solicitor gift-wrapped. It took a lot of self-control to maintain her poker face.
“I hope you’re basing your suspicion on more than the lack of physical evidence,” she said.
“Smilow hated Pettijohn.”
“It’s been established that many people did.”
“But not to the degree that Smilow did. On several occasions, he all but pledged to kill Lute for the unhappiness he had caused Margaret. I have it on good authority that he once attacked Lute and would have killed him on the spot if he hadn’t been restrained.”
“Who told you that, Deep Throat?”
Unappreciative of her amusement, he said stiffly, “In a manner of speaking, yes. For the time being I’m keeping this as confidential as possible.”
“Hammond, are you sure you’re not letting your personality conflict with Smilow color your reason?”
“True, I don’t like him. But I’ve never threatened to kill him. Not like he threatened to kill Lute Pettijohn.”
“In the heat of the moment? In a fit of rage? Come on, Hammond. Nobody takes death threats like that seriously.”
“Smilow often goes for drinks in the lobby bar of the Charles Towne Plaza.”
“So do hundreds of other people. For that matter, so do we.”
“He gets his shoes shined there.”
“Oh, he gets his shoes shined there,” she exclaimed, slapping the edge of her desk. “Hell, that’s practically a smoking gun!”
“I refuse to take umbrage, Steffi. Because the gun was my next point.”
“The murder weapon?”
“Smilow has access to handguns. Probably at least half of them are unregistered and untraceable.”
This was the first issue to which Steffi gave serious consideration. Her teasing smile slowly faded. She sat up straighter. “You mean handguns—”
“In the evidence warehouse. They’re confiscated in drug raids. Seized in arrests. Being held there until a trial date, or simply awaiting disposal or sale.”
“They keep change-of-custody records over there.”
“Smilow would know how to get around that. He could have used one, then replaced it. Maybe he threw it away after using it. It would never be missed. He may have used one that hadn’t been consigned to the warehouse yet. There are dozens of ways.”
“I see what you mean,” she said thoughtfully, then shook her head. “But it’s still a stretch, Hammond. Just as we don’t have a weapon to prove that Alex Ladd shot Pettijohn, we don’t have one that proves Smilow did.”
He sighed, glanced down at the floor, then looked across the desk at her again. “There’s something else. Another motive, perhaps even more compelling than revenge for his sister’s suicide.”
“Well?”
“I can’t discuss it.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because someone else’s privacy would be violated.”
“Wasn’t it you who, not five minutes ago, made that flowery speech about our transcendent relationship and mutual trust?”
“It’s not that I mistrust you, Steffi. Someone else trusts me. I can’t betray that individual’s confidence. I won’t, not until and unless this information becomes a material element in the case.”
