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and his sister. Beryl was the aspiring writer, the talented daughter Harper never had. His protege. It was through his connections she got her first novel published when she was only twenty-two, some sort of quasi-literary romance she published under the name Stratton. Harper even conceded to giving a comment for the book jacket, some quote about this exciting new writer he'd discovered. It raised a lot of eyebrows. Her novel was more a commercial book than literature, and no one had heard a word from Harper in years."
    "What does this have to do with her contract dispute?"
    Mark answered wryly, "Harper may be a sucker for a hero-worshiping young lady, but he's a cagey bastard. Before he got her published, he forced her to sign a contract prohibiting her from ever writing a word about him or anything relating to him as long as he and his sister are alive. Harper's only in his mid-fifties, his sister a few years older. Basically, the contract trussed Beryl for life, preventing her from writing her memoirs because how could she do that and leave out Harper?"
    "Maybe she could," I replied, "but minus Harper, the book wouldn't sell."
    "Exactly."
    "Why did she resort to pen names? Was this part of her agreement with Harper?"
    "I think so. My guess is he wanted Beryl to remain his secret. He granted her literary success but wanted her locked away from the world. The name Beryl Madison's not exactly well known, even though her novels have been financially successful."
    "Am I to assume she was on the verge of violating this contract, and that's why she sought out Orndorff & Berger?"
    He sipped his drink. "Let me remind you that she wasn't my client. So I don't know all of the details. But my impression is that she was burned out, wanted to write something of significance. And this is the part that you probably already know about. Apparently she was having problems, somebody was threatening her, harassing her ..."
    "When?"
    "Last winter, about the time I met her at lunch. I guess it was late February."
    "Go on," I said, intrigued.
    "She had no idea who was threatening her. Whether this began before she decided to write what she was currently working on or afterward, I can't say with certainty."
    "How was she going to get away with violating her contract?"
    "I'm not sure she would have, not entirely," Mark replied. "But the direction Sparacino was going was to inform Harper he had a choice. He could cooperate, and the finished product would be fairly harmless--in other words, Harper would have limited powers of censorship. Or else he could be a son of a bitch and Sparacino would give the newspapers, 'Sixty Minutes,' a crack at it. Harper was in a bind. Sure, he could sue Beryl, but she didn't have that much cash, a drop in the bucket compared to what he's worth. A suit would only make everybody run out to buy Beryl's book. Harper really couldn't win."
    "Couldn't he have gotten an injunction to stop the publication?" I asked.
    "More publicity. And to halt the presses would have run him into the millions."
    "Now she's dead."
    I watched my cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. "The book isn't finished, I presume. Harper doesn't have any worries. Is this what you're getting at, Mark? That Harper may be involved in her murder?"
    "I'm just giving you the background," he said.
    Those clear eyes were looking into mine. Sometimes they could be so incredibly unreachable, I remembered uncomfortably.
    "What do you think?" he was asking.
    I did not say what I really thought, which was that it struck me as very strange that Mark was telling me all this. It did not matter that Beryl was not his client. He was familiar with the canons of legal ethics, which make it quite clear that the knowledge of one member of a firm is imputed to all its members. He was just a shade away from impropriety, and this was as out of character for the scrupulous Mark James I remembered as if he had shown up at my house sporting a tattoo.
    "I think you'd better have a talk