state might call, and your name popped up,” I tell her.
“Why would you want to call me—as a witness, I mean?”
“I don’t know that I do.”
“I see. The police did talk to me. An investigator from San Diego. That was about…” She thinks for a moment, then riffles some pages onher desk calendar. “About two months ago now. What took you so long?” she asks.
I could say it was the absence of a good defense theory, but I don’t. “Can you tell me what they wanted to talk about?”
“Hmm?”
“The cops.”
“Oh.” She smiles. “Three guesses, and the first two don’t count,” she tells me.
“Your relationship with Scarborough.”
She nods. “Were we lovers?” she says. “I told them what I’m telling you, that the bloom was already off that particular rose. At one time we were what you might call an item, but that ended more than a year ago. I’ve been seeing other men, and I assume that Terry had someone else. We were still friends. I saw him occasionally at social events. We ran in the same circles. But that was all.”
“So you weren’t seeing each other at the time he was killed?”
“No.”
“Do you mind telling me how the two of you met?”
She has to think about this. “I believe it was at a dinner. A judicial affair, the circuit court if I remember right. That must have been three or four years ago now. Someone introduced us. One thing led to another, Terry called me up, and we started seeing each other.”
“You dated? How long?”
“What is this, a sequel to the Kinsey Report?”
“I have to think the cops would have asked,” I tell her.
“We lived together for a while. We had an apartment in Georgetown. It wasn’t much. Given Terry’s traveling schedule, he was never there. You have to understand that with Terry there was only one person who mattered in life, and that was Terry. The live-in thing lasted about seven months. In the end I decided that living alone in Terry’s apartment wasn’t what I had in mind. I found other people, another life. So I moved out and got my own place. That’s the long and short of it.”
“No angry words? No late-night disagreements?”
She shakes her head. “I can give you the address, and you can check with the neighbors if you like,” she says. “The parting was quite amicable. I left. When Terry got back from his latest fling on Court TV orCNN or whatever it was, I was gone. Simple as that. Sorry to disappoint,” she says. “No big blowup, if that’s what you’re thinking. I sometimes wondered when he returned whether Terry even noticed that I was gone. That was Terry.” She smiles. “You had to love him. I guess you could say the relationship just sort of ran its course. In the end we simply went our separate ways. There’s a lot of that in this town, politics and human ambition being what they are.”
“And when was this parting of the ways?”
“About a year ago. We still talked every once in a while.”
“When was the last time?”
“That we talked?”
I nod.
“I’d have to think.” She does. “It must have been last Christmas.” She toys with the fingers of one hand at the arm of the chair. “Yes, it was Christmas. We had some mutual friends who’d invited us to a Christmas party. I don’t think they’d gotten the word that we weren’t living together any longer. Terry got the invitation and wanted to know what to do with it. He called me, and we talked for a while.”
“Mind if I ask what you talked about?”
“What do two former live-ins talk about? The weather, our health, mutual friends we’ve seen…”
“Did you happen to discuss Justice Ginnis?”
With the mention of his name, she looks up directly at me. “No. Not that I recall.”
“You did clerk for him?”
“Yes.”
“I’d been told that Mr. Scarborough and he were friends.”
She laughs at this. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to or what you’ve been reading, but they weren’t friends. I mean,
“Why would you want to call me—as a witness, I mean?”
“I don’t know that I do.”
“I see. The police did talk to me. An investigator from San Diego. That was about…” She thinks for a moment, then riffles some pages onher desk calendar. “About two months ago now. What took you so long?” she asks.
I could say it was the absence of a good defense theory, but I don’t. “Can you tell me what they wanted to talk about?”
“Hmm?”
“The cops.”
“Oh.” She smiles. “Three guesses, and the first two don’t count,” she tells me.
“Your relationship with Scarborough.”
She nods. “Were we lovers?” she says. “I told them what I’m telling you, that the bloom was already off that particular rose. At one time we were what you might call an item, but that ended more than a year ago. I’ve been seeing other men, and I assume that Terry had someone else. We were still friends. I saw him occasionally at social events. We ran in the same circles. But that was all.”
“So you weren’t seeing each other at the time he was killed?”
“No.”
“Do you mind telling me how the two of you met?”
She has to think about this. “I believe it was at a dinner. A judicial affair, the circuit court if I remember right. That must have been three or four years ago now. Someone introduced us. One thing led to another, Terry called me up, and we started seeing each other.”
“You dated? How long?”
“What is this, a sequel to the Kinsey Report?”
“I have to think the cops would have asked,” I tell her.
“We lived together for a while. We had an apartment in Georgetown. It wasn’t much. Given Terry’s traveling schedule, he was never there. You have to understand that with Terry there was only one person who mattered in life, and that was Terry. The live-in thing lasted about seven months. In the end I decided that living alone in Terry’s apartment wasn’t what I had in mind. I found other people, another life. So I moved out and got my own place. That’s the long and short of it.”
“No angry words? No late-night disagreements?”
She shakes her head. “I can give you the address, and you can check with the neighbors if you like,” she says. “The parting was quite amicable. I left. When Terry got back from his latest fling on Court TV orCNN or whatever it was, I was gone. Simple as that. Sorry to disappoint,” she says. “No big blowup, if that’s what you’re thinking. I sometimes wondered when he returned whether Terry even noticed that I was gone. That was Terry.” She smiles. “You had to love him. I guess you could say the relationship just sort of ran its course. In the end we simply went our separate ways. There’s a lot of that in this town, politics and human ambition being what they are.”
“And when was this parting of the ways?”
“About a year ago. We still talked every once in a while.”
“When was the last time?”
“That we talked?”
I nod.
“I’d have to think.” She does. “It must have been last Christmas.” She toys with the fingers of one hand at the arm of the chair. “Yes, it was Christmas. We had some mutual friends who’d invited us to a Christmas party. I don’t think they’d gotten the word that we weren’t living together any longer. Terry got the invitation and wanted to know what to do with it. He called me, and we talked for a while.”
“Mind if I ask what you talked about?”
“What do two former live-ins talk about? The weather, our health, mutual friends we’ve seen…”
“Did you happen to discuss Justice Ginnis?”
With the mention of his name, she looks up directly at me. “No. Not that I recall.”
“You did clerk for him?”
“Yes.”
“I’d been told that Mr. Scarborough and he were friends.”
She laughs at this. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to or what you’ve been reading, but they weren’t friends. I mean,
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