The Perfect Alibi (Robin Lockwood #2)(50)

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Robin didn’t have any meetings or court appearances, so she decided to go to the jail and tell Doug about the call from New York. She didn’t expect to learn anything interesting, but she thought that Doug would appreciate the break in his deadly dull jail routine.

“I had a call about an hour ago from Herschel Jacobs, a homicide detective from New York.” Robin told her client. “He wants to talk to you.”

Doug tensed. “About what?”

“Don’t worry. It’s about Tyler Harrison, the lawyer Frank met with in Manhattan. He was murdered.”

“What’s that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. The police in New York are stumped. They don’t know who killed Harrison or why he was murdered. They’re just talking to anyone he met with the week he was killed. Jacobs called your office to talk to Frank and found out he was dead. He wants to talk to you about Frank’s case to see if it sheds any light on what happened to Harrison. So, what can you tell me about it?”

“Not much. Frank and I met for dinner once every week to talk about our cases. During dinner, we would discuss problems we were having and talk out solutions. It also helped for us to know about each other’s cases in case one of us got sick or went on vacation.”

“We do something like that in my firm. Did you talk about the case he was negotiating in New York?”

Doug nodded. “Right before he left, but all I remember him saying is that there was a good chance it was going to settle.”

“What do you know about the New York case?”

“It wasn’t really a New York case. We were suing a pharmaceutical company in Connecticut that was represented by a firm in Manhattan. It had something to do with a side effect. I think someone in Oregon had a stroke after using the drug, but that’s all I know. You might want to talk to Ken Norquist, one of our associates. He did some work on the case for Frank.”

“Okay. The detective is sending me the file on Harrison’s murder and questions he’d like you to answer. I’ll review the file and the questions before we talk about it.”





CHAPTER FORTY


The file in the Tyler Harrison murder along with Herschel Jacobs’s questions arrived two days later. Robin went through it while she ate a sandwich at her desk. The body had been found in a vacant lot, and Harrison had been shot in the back of the head. The crime scene and autopsy photos were gruesome, but Robin was used to gore and she had no trouble eating her lunch while she viewed them.

Interviews with members of Harrison’s law firm, his friends, and his family had yielded no clues. Harrison was well liked in the firm and at his clubs. The fifty-eight-year-old attorney had been married for more than twenty years. He appeared to have loved his wife, and everyone said that he doted on his two children.

Harrison’s wife had consented to a search of the victim’s home office, and the firm had permitted a search of his law office—but the searches had yielded no clues. Robin studied the photographs of both offices and found them neat and well ordered, decorated with the college and law school diplomas and family pictures she would expect to find. She concluded that Harrison was a man who abhorred a mess and who liked to dot every i and cross every t—excellent traits for someone who dealt with contracts and corporate business.

One of Jacobs’s interviews was with Marvin Turnbull, an executive at Norcross Pharmaceuticals. He told the detective that Harrison was defending a lawsuit filed by Leonard Voss, Frank Nylander’s client. Harrison had called Nylander and asked him to come to New York to discuss settling the lawsuit.

After finishing with the file and going over Jacobs’s questions, Robin walked across town to the offices of Nylander & Armstrong. The receptionist had been subdued when she used the intercom to tell Ken Norquist that Robin had arrived. Robin glanced in the offices she passed on the way to the conference room. The lawyers who glanced at her when she walked by looked grim.

Norquist was seated at a long conference table. Several folders and three-ring binders were stacked on it. The associate got up when Robin walked in. His handshake was limp and he looked depressed.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Robin said. “This has got to be awful for you.”

Norquist flashed a humorless smile. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“How is everyone in the firm holding up?”

“Not well. One associate left already and a few are looking around.”

“What about you?” Robin asked.

“I can’t believe Doug would kill Frank. You know better than I what his chances are, but I have to believe he’ll be acquitted.”

“So, you’re staying?”

“Yeah. We’ve lost several clients, but enough are sticking with us so we can keep the firm afloat until Doug is back. Of course, if he goes to prison…”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t. So, Doug said that you worked with Mr. Nylander on the case he went to New York to negotiate?”

“I did.”

“Can you fill me in?”

“The suit was against Norcross Pharmaceuticals.”

“Why did you use the past tense?”

“Leonard Voss, our plaintiff, died recently. He and his wife were murdered during a burglary and they don’t have any living relatives, so the suit is as dead as they are. That’s a big hit for our firm.”