Free The Killer Sex Game (A Frank Boff Mystery) by Nathan Gottlieb

wealth.”
    Cullen took a big hit on his water. “I gather you’re not putting much stock in the defector angle.”
    “At this point, no.”
    “Well, my break is up now. I gotta get back inside.”
    “Okay. When you’re done with your session, I’ll pick you and Mikey up. We’ll have lunch at Cheffy’s. My treat.”
    After Cullen had gone back inside, Boff called his information broker, Billy Wright and dictated Rafael’s credit card numbers and Gina’s cell number to him.
    Frank, Wright said, I haven’t had time yet to look into the boxer’s calls. When I do, I assume you want me to do the same with the wife’s calls. And to get a financial workup on the boxer.
    “Correct. So how’s your daughter holding up?”
    She’s doing a lot of leaning on me.
    “That’s good. You’ve got broad shoulders.”

Chapter 12
     
    Dressed in jeans with a white Gap T-shirt, Marla walked down the crowded corridor of Jerome L. Greene Hall—the main building of Columbia’s law school—when the cell phone in her backpack rang. Setting the bag down on the floor, she fished out the phone and answered it.
    “This is Marla … Wednesday night? Yes, I’m available. I have his address.”
    Damn , she thought as she hung up. She had been hoping to see Danny that night. Putting the phone back in her bag, she picked it up and continued walking until she reached an office with a closed door. After a quick knock, she walked in without being invited and nodded at her professor, Dr. Phillip Blasi, who was sitting behind his desk talking on the phone. A handsome man in his fifties, Blasi gestured with his free hand for her to take a seat, then quickly finished his call and hung up.
    “Marla,” the professor said, “you were right on point in class today. Los Angeles County did violate the state constitution for years by paying salaried judges perks and supplemental benefits.”
    “I came across that in research for my paper.”
    “And how’s that going?”
    “Really good, professor. Anyway, the reason I’m here is I overheard something suspicious and wanted your opinion on it. For reasons that I don’t want to go into, I can’t reveal how I came upon this.”
    Blasi smiled. “Sounds very cloak and dagger. What did you hear?”
    Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a slip of paper. “I wrote down what the person said.”
    “Which was….?”
    Unfolding the paper, she read from it: “What the hell do you mean he wants me to take less? This is a big fucking case. Silverstein stands to lose a lot of money here. You tell that bastard this is the price. I won’t take a penny less.” She looked up from the paper. “First impression, professor?”
    Blasi didn’t sound very interested. “Undoubtedly a lawyer.”
    Marla shook her head. “Try a Brooklyn judge.”
    That perked up his curiosity. Then he narrowed his eyes and studied her face for a moment. “A judge wouldn’t say something like that in public. How did you hear it?”
    “Again, I’d rather not say.”
    “Okay. Read it to me once more.”
    She read it again.
    “Did you write it down when you heard it?” Blasi asked.
    “No. I had to wait about ten minutes. But my memory is close to photographic, as you well know.”
    “And you came to me because…?”
    “I want to phone an anonymous tip about what the judge said to the Brooklyn D.A.’s office. And I’m wondering if they’d take me seriously without further facts or revealing where I overheard it.”
    Blasi spread his hands. “Based on what you wrote down? No. They wouldn’t take much action. If at all. About the only way you could get the D.A. to move on it would be to go to the Brooklyn District Court and ask this judge’s clerk if you could see his docket. If the name Silverstein is on it, well, then, you might get the D.A.’s attention.” Blasi paused. “But let me caution you about doing that. If this judge is corrupt, it’s not outside the realm of possibility his clerk is, too. It’s