The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(32)

Kellerman looked at the walls. The one behind the desk was floor-to-ceiling glass. A colorful abstract oil hung on the wall opposite the windows and over a couch. The wall to the left of the desk held diplomas from West Virginia University, the Warren E. Burger School of Law at Sheffield University in Arkansas, and certificates attesting to Armstrong’s membership in various state and federal bars. The fourth wall was covered with clippings from Armstrong’s successful cases and plaques from civic organizations and the bar. Under the plaques and clippings was a bookcase. Most of the books were law-related, but Kellerman spotted several old-time mysteries including a number by Erle Stanley Gardner, Ellery Queen, Dorothy Sayers, and Agatha Christie. Next to Murder on the Orient Express was a biography of Dame Agatha.

“Let’s interview the employees,” Kellerman said when he was satisfied that nothing of importance to their case had occurred in Armstrong’s office.

Dillon led the way to the conference room, where several people sat around a long table, talking quietly, sipping coffee, or staring at the tabletop. After he introduced the DA, he asked Ken Norquist to follow him to another room.

Norquist was a short, stocky man in his late twenties who was sitting at the far end of the table. The associate wore his blond hair short and sported a trim beard and mustache. He was dressed in a tan suit, white shirt, and tie. The top button of his shirt was undone, and the tie had been pulled down so that the skin at the base of his neck showed. He looked pale and shaky, and sweat beaded his brow.

Dillon led the way to an empty office and closed the door. “Have a seat,” he said.

Norquist sat down and began tapping the toes of his right foot rapidly.

“Are you okay?” Anders asked.

“No. I keep seeing Frank’s head.” He shivered. “I’ve never seen so much blood.”

“Do you want some water?”

Norquist shook his head.

“Mr. Kellerman would like to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to answering them?” Anders asked.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Can you tell me the last time you saw Mr. Nylander alive?” the prosecutor asked.

“It was four something. I left early to pick up my date for the party. I passed him coming in when I headed out.”

“How did he look?”

“Normal, I guess. Maybe a little distracted. I said hello, but he didn’t answer me.” Norquist shrugged. “I just saw him for a second, though. I thought he’d show up at the restaurant, but he and Doug never made it.”

“Did that surprise you?”

“Yes, it did. We’re not a big firm, and Frank and Doug always show for stuff like this.”

“I notice that you call the partners by their first names.”

Norquist smiled sadly. “Doug and Frank encouraged everyone to be informal. They wanted everyone to work hard but have fun.”

“Did you see Mr. Armstrong last night?”

“No.”

“Why did you come in so early this morning?”

“Doug called me before noon from Seattle and gave me a research project. He said it wasn’t a rush, but I knew he wanted it done as soon as possible. I finished most of it yesterday, but I still wasn’t through when I left. I wanted to get it done first thing.”

“Was Mr. Armstrong in at all this morning?” Kellerman asked.

“Not that I know. I went to his office shortly after I finished my work. He wasn’t there, so I went looking for him.” Norquist took a deep breath. “That’s when I found Frank.”

“You seem to think highly of Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Nylander,” Kellerman said. “Was there anyone in the firm who didn’t like them?”

“Honestly, everyone thought they were great.”

“Were there any former employees who might hold a grudge?”

“I’ve been here three years, and I never heard anyone say anything bad about them.”

“What about the people they sued or represented?” Kellerman asked.

Norquist paused. “You know, recently there was a client who fired Doug.”

“What case was that?” Kellerman asked.

“The rape. That athlete, Hastings. I did a little work on it, so Doug and I talked about Hastings. I think he said something to Doug that scared him.”

“Was Mr. Nylander involved in the case?” Kellerman asked.

“Not that I know.”

“Can you think of anyone else who might have a reason to do this?”

“No, I can’t. I mean, no one likes to be on the losing side of a case, but I can’t remember anyone talking about being afraid of a client or someone we sued.”

“How did Mr. Armstrong and Mr. Nylander get along?” Kellerman asked.

Norquist’s mouth gaped open, and he stared at the prosecutor. “If you’re thinking that Doug … That’s ridiculous. Frank and Doug were like brothers. They did everything together. It was a mutual admiration society.”

“They never argued?” Kellerman asked.

“Well, yeah, about cases. But it wasn’t angry arguing. It was strategy or whether to take on a client. Business stuff.”

“Was the firm doing well?”

“I’m just an associate. But from what I picked up, this was their best year.”