The Marsh Madness

“I’ve learned one immutable fact in my career: Anything’s possible where people are involved.”


“Unless the laws of physics were temporarily suspended allowing time travel, Uncle Kev couldn’t have killed Chadwick. But the two people who were in the house could have.”

“You mean Lisa Troy, who doesn’t exist, and the butler that no one has heard of?”

“Exactly.”

He nodded. “I hear you, but that won’t get you out of this. Never mind. With luck, they left some kind of evidence. Fingerprints. Whatever. Let’s give Castellano something to think about.” He straightened his collar and tie, brushed a bit of dust off his too-tight suit jacket and tugged at it.

I figured I wasn’t the only person who’d thought that Castellano was pretty spectacular. I said, “Don’t let yourself be seduced by that pretty package.”

“I’m your lawyer. I don’t get seduced, but she is . . .”

I waited.

“. . . quite a woman.”

“No kidding. And you still haven’t told me who called you. Was it Uncle Mick and Uncle Lucky? How would they have found out?”

He shook his head. “Not your uncles.”

“But who? Vera?”

Vera could probably pay his fee, although I would expect a bit more of the Francis I silverware to disappear.

“Not Vera.”

Not uncles. Not Kev. Not Vera.

“Who? I think I have the right to know.”

“A friend of yours.”

“Really?”

“He asked me not to tell you.”

My heart clenched. I hoped it wasn’t Sal Tascone, the best-dressed and most dangerous man in town. I’d done my best to stay away from him, and I didn’t want to fall into his clutches now. Sal had once done me a favor, but with two favors, I’d be really in his debt, and I wasn’t prepared for that. I was going straight, not going straight to the mob.

“If it’s Sal, I’m going to have to let you go.”

Sammy gave a short bark of laughter. “No, not Tascone. I don’t work for him. You think a lot of yourself, don’t you, kid? And you’re wise to steer clear.”

“I don’t get it, then. No one knows. Only Vera, Kev, you and me, the signora, I suppose, the cops and . . .”

He reacted to that. The corner of his left eye twitched, and he tugged at the collar of his wrinkled jacket.

I stopped. Stared. Tyler Dekker knew, and his face had reflected his misery at accompanying his colleagues to question me about a murder. He’d met Sammy Vincovic, and he was smart enough to figure out how to reach him in Syracuse.

Was Smiley my savior?

Vincovic wasn’t saying. “There was only one condition, and that was that no one could know who called me.”

“Seriously? You don’t think I’m at a disadvantage not knowing who hired you to represent me?”

He smiled.

I tossed my verbal grenade. “Is this the first time you’ve been retained by a cop?”

Vincovic might have been a wily street fighter, but the look on his face told me I’d scored a direct hit.

“So that’s why Tyler left me alone. He was calling you. I thought he’d abandoned me.” Abandoned me again, I thought. It hadn’t been that long ago when he’d left me on my own in one of the most dangerous situations of my life.

“I can’t tell you who called me.”

“Fair enough. But now I know, and I’m grateful that he got you here. I’m not sure how I can afford your fees, but I’ll find a way.” I figured putting off grad school for another couple of years was probably the way, and I might still need some help from my uncles. They’d do what they could. They think that legal representation is like food and water, one of life’s necessities.

“Ready to face the big, bad detective again?” he said.

I stood up. He gestured for me to sit down. “Look relaxed. Remember that you’ve got friends. And ‘no comment’ is your only comment.”