Baltimore Blues

The telephone rang as Tess was gathering her toothbrush and shampoo from the bathroom. She let the machine pick it up. A hoarse, familiar voice filled her small apartment with such force that the glass doors in her kitchen cabinets rattled: Tyner Gray, a rowing coach whose years of working with young novices had turned his voice into a perpetual shout.

"Tess, it's Tyner; call me at my law office as soon as you get a chance.

"It's not about rowing," he added, as if he knew she was standing there and could read her mind as well. "It is about a rower we both know well."

The volume of his voice dropped to a husky whisper, still impossibly loud and piercing. "He asked me to call you, Tess. For some reason he thinks you can help him. Although, from what I know, it would appear you've done quite enough." His voice roared back to its usual volume, as if he were shouting a drill to her across an expanse of water. "Call my office, Tess. ASAP."

Tess sat on the floor, a pair of underwear still balled up in her hand. If Rock needed her she couldn't run away. She wondered whether Rock was the best judge of what he needed. Or whom he needed. First he hired a fellow sculler to be his private detective. And see how that had turned out. Now he had a rowing coach as his lawyer. What did he think he was going to get for his jury-a men's eight and a women's four?

At sixty-four, Tyner Gray still had the lean, sinewy upper body of a lightweight rower. On warm days, when he was on the dock and took off his T-shirt, the college girls stole looks at his chest and arms. No one ever glanced at his legs, withered and lifeless in his sweatpants, almost flat. As far as Tess knew, no one had seen them since his accident almost forty years ago, a year after his Olympic victory. He had been hit by a drunk driver outside Memorial Stadium.

"Did you get a workout in this morning?" Rock asked when Tess was shown into Tyner's office by his secretary, Alison, a ravishing blonde whose pearls were as big and round as the blue eyes she fastened adoringly on Tyner. "I hated missing practice."

Arrested and charged at eleven, bailed out nine hours later, Rock looked good. Jail, or the lack of caffeine, had helped him get some rest for the first time in weeks. In fact he seemed almost serene to Tess. Whatever had happened, he still had Ava.

Tyner sighed. "Rock, I know your perspective on this is you're an i

Rock looked stu

"Our biggest problem is that the police are satisfied they have the right suspect," Tyner said. "This is the kind of high-profile case they're pressured to solve quickly, and they're already congratulating themselves on what a no-brainer it was-and that's before talking to Ava. We can only hope their investigation will founder on a lack of evidence, or that someone else might be implicated. In the meantime we can begin gathering information to help us get the charges dropped or, if it comes to that, dissuade a jury. This is where Tess comes in."

"Back up. I thought we all agreed I caused this mess. Why involve me?"

"Because you now work for me. You're going to turn over your notes from your ‘investigation' and, if anyone asks to see them, I'm going to argue they're privileged. Same thing if the police try to talk to you, or the state's attorney. I will show them our employment contract, dated September first-the day you contracted with Rock."

"Am I really working for you, or is this just a scam?"

"You're going to work your ass off," Tyner promised, gri

Tick-tock, Tyner explained, was Salvador Dalí's timepiece, liquid and flexible. Did Rock really go upstairs at 10 P.M., as the guard told police? Could it have been 10:05? Or 9:45? If the guard was lax about procedures such as calling up, might he have been similarly lax about timekeeping? Who else went in and out? Tess's job was to interview the security guard, the custodian, and anyone else, and-politely, sweetly, deferentially-create as much confusion in their minds as possible.

"Tick-tock," Tyner said. "Open windows, find new doors and exits. ‘Did you happen to check your watch? A digital watch? Did you notice exactly what time it was? Of course you didn't, I guess; no one notices the exact time. Ten o'clock is an estimate, right, your best guess?'

"‘Does everyone sign in, sir? Everyone? Does anyone ever sneak in? Never? Did you go to the door to smoke a cigarette or breathe the night air? Are you sure?' That's how you play. And our first player is Rock. Except I want him to be specific and very clear about what he did, and when. Tess, you used to be a reporter. Take notes." He threw a legal pad and a pen at her.

Rock looked at Tyner's worn rug as he spoke. The begi

"Take your phone off the hook, sweetie," she had urged him. "Don't talk to anyone until I get there." Nice block, Tess thought. She kept me from getting to him first.

She had arrived by 9:00. Ava told Rock how Abramowitz had forced her to sleep with him, claiming she would never find another lawyer's job in Baltimore if she refused. She figured anyone who had defended rapists and murderers could defend himself against something as ephemeral as sexual harassment, so she gave in. In return he promised her a brilliant future. Although the arrangement had put her on the verge of a nervous collapse, she had been handling everything just fine, until "this woman" had tried to blackmail her.

"Totally untrue," Tess protested.

"I didn't believe that part," Rock assured her. "I figured Ava didn't understand what our arrangement was and misinterpreted your conversation." Still giving Ava the benefit of the doubt, Tess noted. It had not yet occurred to Rock that Ava might be an accomplished liar.

"I stroked her hair until she fell asleep," he continued. "I would look down and see my hand on her hair, and I would think that Abramowitz had touched her, too. It made me sick. And after awhile it made sense to get my bike and go down there, to the firm."

"How did you know he would be there?" Tyner asked.

"I didn't. Ava had told me he was always there, always working. I figured last night wouldn't be any different. And he was there, but he was watching the O's game. His office is like his own private sky box-it looks right into Camden Yards. If you turn on WBAL it's better than being there. He even had a beer and a hot dog. I think that made me even angrier, the idea that he was sitting up in his office, watching a ball game, while Ava was practically hysterical. So I told him-I told him what I thought of him, and how we could go to the EEOC and the state bar, maybe even the newspapers. He just laughed."

"He laughed at you?" Tess asked. "He thought it was fu

Rock thought for a moment. "It was a nervous laugh, like he was trying to think of what to say next. Then all these lies began tumbling out, about how he was trying to help Ava pass the bar, and she said she'd sleep with him if he could make sure she stayed on staff. She'd failed it twice and she had to pass the third time or she was out. That part is true, actually-she has failed twice. But she didn't offer to sleep with Abramowitz in order to keep her job. She would never have done that."