“Why not?” Mary shot back.
“Nick Machiavelli is doing what he does. In other words, he’s performing in a way that’s consistent with who he is. Whether it’s because he is a genuine ancestor of Prince Niccolò Machiavelli, he epitomizes Machiavelli’s ethos.”
“Does this matter?” Mary felt her patience wearing thin. They had all been accused of murder on national television, and even worse, somebody had killed John and broken William’s heart. And Judy’s.
“Yes, Mary, it does matter. Machiavelli’s way is, ‘The end justifies the means.’ If we understand his way, then we can predict his next move.”
“Okay, now we’re talking. How do we take him down?” Mary rolled her chair closer to the conference table, or as close as she could get. The baby was remarkably quiet, so maybe it didn’t mind anchovies as much as its mother.
“We do not ‘take him down.’” Roger made air quotes. “We do not counter, fight back, or engage.”
“We don’t?” Mary felt deflated.
“No. I have already had this conversation with Bennie, and she agrees. I hope you and Judy will see it my way, as well.” Roger cleared his throat primly. “Given Machiavelli’s way, as we just discussed, he will continue to ratchet up his attacks on the firm. We can predict that with absolute certainty, now that we understand his ethos.”
“And we’re going to take it lying down?”
“I don’t know how to deal with that statement, so I won’t.” Roger’s eyelids fluttered, apparently involuntarily. “We do not meet his energy with coequal, oppositional energy. It would be counterproductive over the long term. We wait and issue a brief written statement to the effect that we are mourning the loss of our friend and colleague John Foxman and remain one hundred percent behind efforts by the authorities to bring his killer to justice.”
“And we’ll deny the allegations of murder and conspiracy, won’t we?”
“No, we’re not even going to refer to those allegations.” Roger glanced at Bennie, who nodded in grudging acceptance, so he continued. “We are going to defuse the situation. We are going to not react to him in a way that he expects. It will defang him. It will disarm him. It will take the sting out of his accusations. It will isolate him. It will show him for who he is, a bully, spouting lies.”
“In other words, we’re not adding fuel to the fire.” Mary got it, though it wasn’t her instinct. “But I hate letting such personal accusations stand. It’s outrageous.”
Judy remained silent, as did Isaac, though Mary guessed that Isaac was already up to speed with the game plan.
Roger nodded slowly. “Mary, I understand your position. I hope I have your consent to do things my way. As I told you when you interviewed me, we have different energies. My way to think about this is that we set our path and follow it. Cleave to it, and in the end, we will find ourselves where we need to be.”
“Haikus aside, does that mean we win?”
“In the long run, yes.” Roger smiled, just the slightest. “So do I have your consent? I’d like you and Judy to be on board, since Bennie has already said yes.”
“Okay,” Mary answered, trying to make peace.
“I agree, Roger,” Judy said quietly.
“Thank you. Isaac and I will draft the statement and will show it to you before we issue it tomorrow. In the meantime, to the extent the press cycle returns to the story, they will rerun ad infinitum the footage of Mary and Judy outside the Roundhouse. Given our silence, they will have no other choice. That will inure to our benefit.”
“That’s true,” Mary said, brightening.
“Excellent.” Roger looked up suddenly, as Lou entered the conference room, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. His steely-gray hair was out of place, and his navy-blue sportcoat was wrinkled, though he still looked natty with his loosened tie and khaki pants.
“Folks, I’m getting too old for this. I been knockin’ on doors all day. I feel like I used to when I was a beat cop, back in the day.” Lou rolled out the chair next to Mary and flopped down. “And then on the way home, I hear Machiavelli on the radio in the car. He’s got some nerve, doesn’t he? I want to punch that kid in the face.”
Bennie made a hurry-up motion. “Lou, how did it go? I’m dying to know what you found out. Next time, make sure you charge your phone, so we don’t have to wait all day to hear from you.”
“I tried to find a pay phone.” Lou shrugged, defensively. “I looked everywhere. First I got one that had no receiver, then I got one that had no dial. It’s a disgrace! I never understand why these knuckleheads break—”
“Lou, what did you learn?” Bennie asked, urgent.
“Okay, relax.” Lou grabbed a Coke from the table, popped the tab, and took a slug. “Let me tell it right. First off, so Mary told me that the cops told her and Judy that they had two witnesses. One was John’s next-door neighbor, who heard them fighting and puts her there the night of the murder.”
Judy looked over. “Right, she lives to the left of John’s house. Her name is Linda Stallworthy.”
“Right. Linda. I talked to her.” Lou nodded. “The other witness they had was a lady out the back, who saw through the window. She was an eyewitness but she didn’t hear anything. She saw Judy and John fighting in the apartment. She’s the website designer, remember?”
“Right.” Bennie nodded. “Did you talk to her, too?”
“Yes, pretty girl but too skinny, in her thirties. Barbara Mulcahy.”
“And what did she say?” Bennie asked, defaulting instantly to cross-examination mode.
“Don’t rush me.” Lou put up a wrinkled hand. “The headline is this. They both identify Judy positively. The next-door neighbor, Linda, she likes you, Judy. She said you’ve been seeing John for a while, so she’s going to confirm that for the cops, but she also said you never fought before, that it was very unusual for you to fight. She told me that she told the cops that too, but I guess they didn’t tell you that.”
“No, they didn’t. We never fought, really.” Judy swallowed hard, and Mary patted her hand.
Bennie asked, “Lou, what did Barbara Mulcahy say? The one who saw through the back window.”
“She confirms what the cop said too, that she was worried about Judy’s safety during the fight. Not that John took a swing or anything, on account of she had an abusive ex. She didn’t hear anything but she saw it. So there’s nothing new there.” Lou took another slug of Coke. “Barbara stopped watching the window after you left, but you know what time you left. She just knows that she looked back at the window and you weren’t there.”
“Did she see John?”
“No.” Lou frowned, his concern folding into the deep lines of his tanned face. “So, that could mean that the killer had already come and gone, unless you can see him on the floor from the window. I don’t know the angle of the window.”
Judy grimaced. “I don’t think you can, but I’m not sure.”
Lou eyed her with sympathy. “Sorry, honey. This can’t be easy for you.”
Mary rubbed Judy’s back. “She’s doing amazing, poor thing.”
Lou took another slug of Coke. “So I talked to eight other neighbors, three on the same side of the street as John and four on the opposite. Hold on a second, I wrote it down. The addresses.” He tugged an old red notebook from his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and read silently to himself.
Bennie looked at him like he was nuts. “Lou, wanna let us in on it?”
“Nah. Waste a time.” Lou flipped the notebook closed. “It was just the details, like house numbers and names. I’ll type it up for you later. Bottom line, none of them saw anything, none of them heard anything. None of them could identify Judy from a picture. One of ’em had hair the same color pink. They’re yuppies, they’re never home, they got a bunch of wacky artsy jobs. I got nothin’ from them.”