Lou Mason Mystery - 02 - The Last Witness by Joel Goldman Page B

and divorced twice and I have no children. I don’t even have a damn dog! Men call me the Ice Queen behind my back, and that’s the nicest thing they say. So when Jack Cullan asked, I said yes. There’s no crime in that.”
    “There’s no sense in it either.”
    “All the official investigations went nowhere. Rachel Firestone is the only one beating the scandal drum, and no one was paying any attention. We would have had a pleasant evening and no one would have written or said anything about it. We didn’t even talk about the Dream Casino or any other gaming commission business.”
    “If it was all so pleasant, why did you throw a drink in his face?”
    She took a breath. “I said that Jack could be charming. He could also be crude, especially when he asked me to spend the night with him. I told him I wasn’t interested and he called me a cock teaser, among other things.”
    “That’s it? He called you names?”
    She reddened. “No. He threatened me. He threatened to ruin me.”
    “How? I’ve heard that Cullan collected dirt on a lot of people. Did he have a file on you?”
    “He didn’t say and I don’t know. I haven’t led a perfect life, but I never took a bribe. He just said he would do it, that I wouldn’t see it coming, and that no one but the two of us would know that it had been him. That was too much. I’ve had two husbands who tried that crap on me, and I wasn’t going to put up with it from him.”
    “So why didn’t you press charges?”
    “Having dinner with Jack and going to that bar afterward was a nonevent. Filing criminal charges against him for assault would have been a media circus. No, thanks. It was better to chalk it up to one more bad judgment about the men whose company I keep.”
    Mason took the chair next to hers. “The owner of the bar is my client and my friend. He goes by Blues. He saved my life and I’m trying to save his.”
    “I’m not sure I can help you.”
    “Let me decide that. You threw your drink in Cullan’s face and he came after you.”
    “He grabbed me, yes.”
    “And Blues pulled him off of you, right?”
    “Yes. Yes, he did.”
    “And that’s when Cullan scratched the back of Blues’s hands. Am I right?”
    Beth thought for a moment and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I was pretty upset. I just don’t remember. All I do remember is Jack telling your client that he was going to put him out of business.”
    Mason gave her time to say more, but she didn’t. “Okay. What happened after you left the bar?”
    “Jack took me home. He dropped me off. He didn’t apologize and I didn’t invite him upstairs.”
    “Did you stay home the rest of the night?”
    She stood and circled the table. “My God, Lou! You’re asking me if I killed him?”
    “I’m doing my job. I’m sure the police asked you the same question.”
    Beth glared at him. “I expected that from them but not from you.”
    She headed for the door, picked up her coat, and jammed her arms into the sleeves, twisting a scarf around her neck. “I didn’t kill him. I’m sorry I went out with the son of a bitch, but I didn’t kill him. And, I’m sorry I came here tonight.”
    “I’m not sorry. I don’t want it to be you.”
    “Neither do I,” she said and left.
    Tuffy went into the living room, climbed into her dog bed, turned around three times, and lay down. Mason joined her on the floor, scratched behind her ears, and thought about the last two days.
    His working theory was that Cullan’s murder was linked to the Dream Casino deal, a theory that led to three suspects—Ed Fiora, Billy Sunshine, and Beth Harrell. Fiora refused to talk to him but sent Tony Manzerio to deliver a message. The mayor played politics and sent Amy White to plead his case. Beth Harrell made a house call, asking for his help without offering anything in return.
    Though she was long on motive and short on alibi, Mason meant it when he told her that he hoped it wasn’t her. He slipped his hand under