Sleight of Hand

CHAPTER Thirty-Seven

The next morning, before breakfast, Dana and Jake loosened up with calisthenics before running five miles. Dana had gotten home from Frank Santoro’s house a little after one in the morning and she was groggy during their workout. Jake showered first, then made breakfast. When Dana came into the kitchen, her hair was damp from her shower and she was dragging.

“Have I told you recently that you are a genius?” Jake asked.

Dana perked up. “No. What did I do that’s so smart?”

“Remember telling me that I should use my photographs from the Arctic expedition for a show? Yesterday, I phoned Louis Riker at the Riker Gallery. He called back while you were in the shower, and we’re meeting this morning.”

“That’s great!” Dana said, breaking into a grin.

“It’s not a done deal.”

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

After breakfast, Jake left for his meeting and Dana went down to the basement office. She booted up the computer and did an Internet search for “Charles Benedict.” There were several articles about cases in which he had served as defense counsel. There was also a piece in the Washington Post that had been written in connection with one of the attorney’s high-profile cases.

Dana had no trouble learning that Benedict was a member of the D.C., Maryland, and Virginia bars and had earned a degree in economics from Dickinson College in Pennsylvania. At the University of Virginia Law School, Benedict made the law review and graduated fourteenth in his class. He should have been able to land a judicial clerkship or a position as an associate in a high-powered law firm, but he chose to hang a shingle and specialize in criminal defense. By all accounts, he had been a success from the get-go, experiencing none of the hardships usually encountered by sole practitioners.

What Dana found odd was that no article contained an account of Benedict’s life before college. She was unable to find out where he was born and grew up, or anything about his parents. It was as if Charles Benedict did not exist before he went to Dickinson.

Dana called the Washington Post and asked to speak to Shawn DuBurg, the reporter who had written the profile of Benedict. After introducing herself, Dana explained why she was calling.

“Yeah, I remember writing the piece. Why are you interested?” DuBurg asked.

“I’m working for a client who’s thinking of hiring Mr. Benedict and he asked me to check him out.”

“Everything I know is in the article,” DuBurg said.

“I was interested in what wasn’t in it. For instance, you didn’t write about Mr. Benedict’s childhood, where he grew up, that sort of thing.”

“That’s because it wasn’t relevant to the article. It was about his legal career.”

“I’m having a hard time finding out anything about Mr. Benedict before he went to college. Do you know any of that stuff?”

DuBurg was quiet for a moment. “You know, I think I did ask him but he said he’d had a rough childhood and didn’t want to discuss it. Like I said, I was mainly interested in his legal career, so I didn’t push him.”

Dana thanked the reporter and ended the conversation. She tried to think of ways to get what she needed but every idea she had was a dead end, so she called Andy Zipay.

Zipay was an ex-cop who had left the D.C. police department under a cloud while Dana was still on the force. Dana had been one of the few officers who had not shunned him, and she’d sent business his way when he went private. When Dana got out of the mental hospital and decided to work as an investigator, Zipay returned the favor by sending her work. It was one of the assignments Zipay had referred to her that eventually led to Dana’s discovery that the president of the United States was involved in a series of murders. Zipay was a very good detective and an excellent person to present with a puzzle.



Dana listened to the radio during the drive to Zipay’s office. She turned up the sound when the announcer said there was a decision on bail in Horace Blair’s case.

“Judge Gardner agreed with the defense that Mr. Blair was a prominent member of the community but he cited several reasons for denying bail. The judge held that the evidence produced by the commonwealth pointed to a strong possibility that Mr. Blair would be convicted of the murder charge. He recognized that the defense might call this evidence into question at trial but he said that he was forced to decide the issue of bail on the evidence presented in court.

“Another factor that Judge Gardner said weighed heavily in his decision was the possibility that Mr. Blair might be a flight risk. Mr. Blair’s business takes him to all parts of the world, including countries without extradition treaties with the United States. Assistant Commonwealth Attorney Rick Hamada produced evidence that Mr. Blair had homes in many foreign countries and assets overseas that would enable him to live a life of luxury as a fugitive.

“Charles Benedict, Mr. Blair’s attorney, said that he planned an immediate appeal of the court’s decision.”

Dana was a little surprised that the judge had denied bail to a person as powerful as Horace Blair, but Gardner, who had a reputation for being arrogant and self-important, also had a reputation for integrity.



Andy Zipay worked on the third floor of an older building with a respectable address. Dana was expected and Zipay’s secretary sent her into Zipay’s office as soon as she arrived. The investigator was seated behind a large oak desk in a small office cramped by metal filing cabinets and secondhand bookshelves. He was a few inches over six feet tall and had a pasty complexion. A narrow mustache separated a hook nose from a pair of thin lips, and his black, slicked-down hair was showing some gray.

“Long time no see,” Zipay said with a smile.

“Too long, and I apologize for asking a favor the first time we’re getting together.”

“You stood by me when everybody else treated me like shit, so I’m always gonna owe you. What’s up?”

“Have you heard of a lawyer named Charles Benedict?”

“Sure.”

“What have you heard about him?”

“Nothing good. When I was in vice and narcotics his name would pop up on occasion, mostly in connection with the Orlansky mob. But the guy is smooth and no one ever got anything on him. Why do you want to know?”

“His name has come up in a case. I tried doing background on him and I’ve run into a stone wall.”

“How so?”

“There’s plenty about him from college on, but I haven’t been able to find anything on him before then. I thought you might have a bright idea.”

“You looked for a birth certificate, high school records?”

“I got nada. It’s like he was born on his first day of school.”

Zipay spaced out and Dana sat back and let him think. Suddenly, Zipay smiled.

“Maybe you’re looking under the wrong name.”