"You already know who I am," I said.

"Oh yeah, duh, right." She slapped the side of her head.

I tore my gaze away from her pretty eyes to read the card. It had a name: Kimberly Blue; a title: Vice President; and three phone numbers: office, cell, and fax.

"So you're Ms. Blue?"

Her smile was near to incandescent. "Isn't that something? I've never had a card before, I mean a real card. They have those things you can print up on the computer, and one of the girls made us each some at the sorority with our phone number and the pretty floral border, which we would sometimes give out if the boy wasn't a total loser, but this is quality, isn't it? You can feel the printing. It's raised. Feel it. See?"

"And you're a vice president."

Her eyes widened with a joyous disbelief.

"Vice president of what?" I said.

"External relations. Let me see, how did he explain it? I'm the one who interfaces with everyone outside that does stuff for my boss, like caterers, dentists, computer guys, cleaning staff, lawyers."

"In order of priority."

"Exactly. I'm supposed to keep track of everything, make sure everyone knows what needs to be done, make sure everyone is happy."

"And who is your boss, Kimberly?"

"The thing is, Victor... It's okay to call you Victor, isn't it?"

"Sure."

"Good. I haven't dealt much with lawyers, other than on TV, so I don't know if you're supposed to be all formal or if it's okay to say just the first name like you're a regular person. My daddy always said after you shake hands with a lawyer you ought to count your fingers so you can probably figure we did our best not to have much contact with the legal profession."

"Most people avoid us until they have no choice. But you were going to tell me who your boss is."

"Yeah, well, the thing is, Victor, the thing of it is..."

"Go ahead."

"I'm not allowed."

"Not allowed?"

"No, but he does want to hire you, really. He's heard only good things. Says you're quality. He wants you to work on something really important."

"But who would I be representing?"

"There's a company. I own some shares, not much, but really now. How cool is that?"

"Quite cool. And who in this company would I be dealing with?"

She tilted her head and looked at me as if I were an utter idiot. "Helloo. I'm the vice president in charge of external relations."

"Listen, Kimberly, I don't-"

"Maybe you should call me Miss Blue, seeing as I am, like, an executive now."

"What is this all about?"

She looked around the courtroom. Judge Wellman had retired to his chambers for the day, the bailiff and court reporter had left their posts; of the official members of the court, only sullen Clerk Templeton was in the courtroom, giving us that look as she worked on her files. Other than the clerk, just my investigator, Phil Skink, was still around, sitting in the back, watching our conversation with an amused smile on his scarred face. She noticed him too - Skink was so ugly he was impossible not to notice - and then she turned to me and nodded her head in his direction, trying subtly to let me know he was there.

I flexed a finger and Skink slunk out of the courtroom.

"It's private enough," I said.

She looked back at the empty spot where Skink had been sitting. Now convinced, she opened her portfolio and rummaged around and came out with a stenographic pad, the pages of which she flipped through before finding what she needed.

"Joseph Parma," she said softly.

I stared at her for a long moment. "He was a client."

"Yes, we know."

"Mr. Parma died ten days ago," I said.

"Right."

"Murdered."

She stretched her mouth as if she had just knocked over a vase. "Sorry about that. Such a thing. Brutal, eh?"

"Yes it was."

"They find out who did it?"

"Not yet."

"We might be able to help."

"Excuse me?"

"Maybe we should talk someplace more private, do you think?"

"If you know anything about the murder, you should tell the police. Did you know Joey?"

"Me, personally? No. Though I heard he was quite a quality fellow. But we were just kind of wondering if maybe you had any sort of conversation with Mr. Parma before he died?"

"He was a client."

"Helloo. I know. That's why I'm asking."

"I can't tell you anything he told me. He was a client."

"I don't get it."

"It's, like, a rule."

"But he's dead."

"It doesn't matter."

"That's a stupid rule."

"Tell the Supreme Court."

"Why would I tell them?"

"How old are you?"

"Do you think that question is appropriate?"

"I was just wondering?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"And already a vice president."

"Doesn't that totally rock? Isn't that just the best?"

I glanced at my watch. "Right now I have to be upstairs in another courtroom. Why don't we meet next week in my office, we'll talk about everything, Joey Parma, the company you work for, and your boss."

"I'm not allowed to talk about him, remember?"

"Sorry, I must have forgotten. And you said you also had a case for me?"

"Yes, Victor, we have a case we'd like you to handle."

"And it involves Mr. Parma?"

"Indirectly."

"If I do elect to take the case, I'll need a retainer."

"Orthodontia? Are we talking orthodontia here, Victor?"

"Talk to your boss, he'll know what I'm talking about. My office, Monday. Let's say ten?"

"Fine. I have the address written down here somewhere."

"See, I told you you didn't need my card."

I walked with her down the aisle and held the courtroom door for her. She gave me a smile and shook my hand. Her skin was remarkably soft and there was an awkward moment, as if she thought we should air kiss or something. The firm and distant business handshake was not yet part of her repertoire, but the blinding smile certainly was. She grasped her portfolio to her chest like a high school girl before starting down the hallway.

I was watching her leave as Phil Skink sidled up to me. "Who's the twist?" he said.

I handed him her card.

"Nice-looking thing, no doubting that," he said.

As she continued down the hall one of her heels wobbled and she almost fell before catching herself. Without looking back she continued on.

"She's twenty-one," I said, "and a vice president."

"They're minting them vice presidents younger and younger these days, ain't they."

"Seem to be."

"You ever been a vice president, Vic?"

"Not even of the chess club in high school."

"So what's our little miss vice president of?"

"Follow her and find out."

"Ah, it's like that, is it?" he said. "You owes me three-fifty for today."

"I know."

"And this'll be more."

"I'm good for it."

"I hopes so, Vic. A man gots to eat."

I gave him a quick glance, up and down. "From what I can tell you're doing fine. But as for the girl, don't let her know what you're up to. Find out what you can about her and her employer. I put her off a bit so you would have some time. Let me know before ten on Monday morning. She mentioned Joey Cheaps."

"The one what got his throat slit down by the river?"

"Our vice president seems to think she knows why."

"Interesting. And if she does?"

"I know an old woman who is sharpening her knives."

Chapter.

13.