07 Puss in Boots by Ed McBain

Author:Ed McBain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 1477805591
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 1987-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Skye Bannister.

Hair the color of wheat, eyes the color of his name. Six-foot-four or -five, reedy and pale, wearing a tuxedo with black patent leather slippers, a ruffled shirt with enameled Shlumberger studs and cuff links, and a red cummerbund and tie.

Skye Bannister, the state attorney himself, in person, here at the Snowflake Ball with whiskey on his breath and two or three sheets to the wind.

“Arthur tells me he sent you a demand for alibi,” he said to Matthew.

“Got it yesterday morning,” Matthew said.

Oliver Lane and the Goldens were playing Harry James’s “Sleepy Lagoon.” Susan was dancing with Frank. She was wearing a red gown. A green feather was in her dark hair. Matthew watched the feather bobbing out there on the dance floor.

“I hope you come up with something, Matthew, I really do,” Bannister said.

Matthew knew he hoped nothing of the sort.

“Because I like you and admire you, I really do,” Bannister said.

He poured more wine from the bottle on Matthew’s table, lifted the glass to his lips, sipped at it, put it down on the table again.

“A job like mine is a difficult one,” Bannister said, and Matthew thought, Oh my God, he’s going to make a campaign speech. “It often pits me against men I’ve worked with in the past, men I like and admire. Like you, Matthew. I like and admire you, Matthew. I can remember the time you and Morrie Bloom worked a number on that black man from Miami, I forget his name now...”

“Lloyd Davis,” Matthew said.

“Very clever what you did, both of you, getting that confession out of him without making it seem like entrapment. Very clever. Interesting case, that one.”

What Bloom still referred to as the “Beauty and the Beast” case, but what Matthew would always think of as the George Harper tragedy. A long time ago. Water under the bridge. Bannister had been an ally then. Now he was an adversary.

“I asked you then—do you remember, Matthew?—I asked you if you were thinking of entering the practice of criminal law, do you remember? And you said, correct me if I’m wrong, you said, ‘Not particularly.’ ”

“I remember.”

“And I said, correct me if I’m wrong, I said, ‘Don’t, I’ve got enough troubles getting convictions as it is,’ or words to that effect, if I recall correctly.”

“You do.”

“So now you are practicing criminal law,” Bannister said, and sipped at the wine again. “And you are representing a man charged with a heinous crime, Matthew, a heinous crime, and it is my duty to send that man to the electric chair. As much as I like and admire you, Matthew.” He shook his head morosely. “That’s what’s so difficult about my job.”

“Don’t worry,” Matthew said. “You won’t have to send him to the chair.”

Bannister looked at him boozily, fuzzily, and querulously.

“I plan to see that you don’t,” Matthew said.

“Ah, Matthew,” Bannister said, “good, true Matthew,” and recklessly threw his arm around the back of Matthew’s chair and onto Matthew’s shoulders. “I hope so, I sincerely hope so.

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