An Independent Woman by Howard Fast Page A

he snapped, “You don’t smoke in my office, Mr. Lefkowitz!”
    â€œThe place certainly smells of smoke. That’s why I took the liberty. Let me apologize. Can I hold it? It’s an eight-dollar cigar. I hate to crush it.” He was a small man, small and thin with a ferret face and a low melodious voice. He looked inquiringly at Abner.
    â€œAbner Berman. I think we met once or twice.”
    â€œThis isn’t your style, Mr. Lefkowitz,” the inspector said.
    â€œNo, indeed. My style, as you call it, is corporate thieves. This is pro bono. Your Mr. Jones intrigues me—college graduate, civil engineer, and now accused.” He turned to Barbara. “Ms. Lavette? The complainant? I’ve heard a good deal about you, Ms. Lavette, and I’m honored to meet you.”
    â€œShe’s not a complainant,” Abner said. “She’s here for the lineup.”
    â€œOh? She’s not a complainant?”
    â€œNothing was stolen from her.”
    â€œGracious,” Lefkowitz said softly. “She’s not a complainant, so why are we wasting time? I’m a busy man.”
    â€œNow, hold on, Mr. Berman. I thought we were over that nonsense. She agreed to come to the lineup,” the inspector said.
    â€œYes, of course. She’s a citizen answering the request of the police.”
    â€œAnd what is she going to do?”
    â€œOh, she’ll identify the man who was with her last night—if she can, of course.”
    â€œBut she’s not a complainant?” Lefkowitz asked.
    â€œAs I said.”
    â€œHow interesting, how very interesting,” he said gently. “It makes me wonder. A hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewels are enough to make anyone wonder a bit. A generous woman!”
    â€œToo generous!” the inspector snapped.
    Lefkowitz was looking at the pictures on Meyer’s desk. “Your children? Beautiful children, if I may say so. The little girl with the blond hair—she must take after your wife.”
    The telephone on the inspector’s desk rang. He picked it up, muttered something, and then said, “They’re ready.”
    â€œDo you intend to go to the grand jury with this?”
    â€œI damn well do.”
    â€œBut with what, Inspector? No complainant, a toy gun that isn’t even a water pistol, a metal toothpick—my word, I carry one myself.”
    Meyer scowled and let them out of the room. As they walked down the hall, the inspector asked Barbara, “Did he have a mask?”
    â€œDid she say he had a mask?” Abner said crossly. “She didn’t say so, so he didn’t have a mask. Did he have a mask when you picked him up?”
    Meyer gave no answer to that, and Abner said to Barbara, “All you have to do is identify him. That’s all. Don’t offer anything. Don’t say anything.”
    â€œWhere are the jewels?” Lefkowitz wanted to know.
    â€œIn our safe.”
    They went into a darkened room with a large plate-glass window. Through the window Barbara could see six men, all black, all tall, all slender. Yet there was no question in her mind as to who was the thief.
    â€œIt’s a one-way glass,” Meyer assured her.
    The thief stood tall and easy, a slight smile on his lips. He had a long, lean face, high cheekbones, and close-cropped hair. She knew he couldn’t see her, but he appeared to be looking directly at her, a quizzical expression on his face.
    â€œThe third man from the left,” Barbara said.
    Meyer picked up a phone and said, “Number three, step forward.” And then to Barbara, “You’re sure?”
    She nodded, and then they left the room. “You don’t need her anymore today?” Abner said to the inspector.
    â€œShe’s not leaving town. She’s still the witness.”
    â€œShe’s not leaving town,” Abner agreed.
    Once outside he said to Barbara, “Take your car home.