20 hours until the shot
The document Zader had handed me was a ballistics report. It confirmed, beyond any doubt, that the rounds found in the victim were fired from the same gun found in David’s car. I’d expected to see this report but not then, not so soon. And I could not challenge a word of this evidence. The DA was putting the murder weapon in David’s car, to match the body of his girlfriend in his apartment. There was no coming back from that scenario.
Game over.
“You used me,” I said, my fingers curling into fists. My legs parted in a fighting stance and my heart kicked into rhythm with the adrenaline soaking through my blood—into my muscles.
“And your wife,” said Dell. “We don’t care about her now that we’ve got the partners. She can go. She won’t face any charges. She is no longer of use.”
“He didn’t do it, Zader. We had a deal—the pen drive for the immunity agreements.”
“You didn’t have a deal with me,” said Zader. “You tried making a deal with Agent Dell, but he has no authority in relation to the Child case. I told you, we don’t make deals that set murderers free. Not in my office. Best I could do would be twenty years if he pleads guilty. Otherwise, see you in court.”
As he swung away, toward the SUV, I started after him and then stopped myself. If I caught up with him I’d almost certainly lay him out. A night in the cage for assault wouldn’t help me defend David.
“This is a joke, right?” said Kennedy.
“You’re a big boy, Bill. It’s time you started acting like one,” said Dell.
Kennedy tilted his jaw and strode up to Dell, who welcomed him with a burning glare.
“You want to take a pop at me, kid? Go right ahead. I’ll kick your ass and take your badge,” said Dell.
Kennedy shook his head, turned to me, and said, “Eddie, I knew nothing about this, I promise you.” He meant it. He looked even more haggard and disheveled than the day before. His hair was wet with rain, his shirt, too, and I got the impression that the only thing holding him upright was rage. Kennedy was a straight shooter—no way he knew I was gonna be played. And that ate at him.
Dell stepped forward, inviting the attack. Kennedy backed off, walked into the back. Seconds later I saw him leave in a dark sedan.
The ballistics report became a ball of paper in my hand as Dell and his men poured into their vehicles and drove out of the hangar.
I’d done the very thing I’d promised myself I would not do. I’d given up an innocent man for my wife. A man who had risked his own neck to help Christine, who had paid for a helicopter to meet her coming off the plane in Virginia—a man I’d let down, badly.
I called Christine’s cell, but it must’ve been powered down for takeoff. The rain beat a tinny drum on the roof. With only me in the hangar, it became an echo chamber for my breath and the tap of my shoe on concrete.
Think.
Dell didn’t need me anymore. He’d gotten the code, the evidence that led to the partners and the money. He would take down the firm tomorrow—as soon as the money landed. He would wait with a team outside their offices and swoop in at precisely the same second that the first cent hit the firm’s account. He could be no help to me now.
Zader wanted his high-profile murder. He was making a name for himself. A name that he hoped would carry the weight of his political ambitions far beyond district attorney.
There was only one thing to do. Fight it out in court.
Seemingly from a distance, I heard a ringing, as if it were underwater. When I took the cell phone from my pocket, the noise from the ringtone, ricocheting off the hangar, almost deafened me. It certainly shook me out of my own head.
“Eddie, it’s Bill,” said Agent Kennedy. He’d never used his first name in conversation with me before. “What Dell did was wrong and I’ll have no part in it. If we can’t be straight, what hope is there? I’m sorry, Eddie. I wanted you to know that. And I wanted you to know where I’m headed.”
“I’m listening.”
“Federal Plaza. I’m going to check every police and prosecution file to make sure you’ve got everything for tomorrow. It probably won’t do your client any good anyway, but I want to help.”
“He’s been set up.”
“I know that’s what you think. Hell, you might be right. But look, what I can get for you—save it for trial. There’s no chance of a judge throwing this out for lack of evidence. And even if you did pull off some kind of Houdini stunt at the prelim, I hear Zader’s got a grand jury empaneled for tomorrow afternoon and they will definitely find a case against your client because you can’t even address them.”
“Let me worry about the grand jury—there might be a way of swinging something, but I’m not sure yet. The main thing is that I get working on this now, and I need you to do something else for me, if you’re serious about helping me, that is.”
“Sure, shoot.”
“I need to know everything about the victim. Whatever you can find, I want it. Other than what may or may not be a fight in the elevator, the prosecution doesn’t have a clear motive for this murder yet, and I don’t want to be hit with one tomorrow. If I’m right, Child was set up.”
“Sure. I can get background. I’ll have that to you ASAP. Anything else you need?”
“I was going to ask you about something. I’m being followed. Hispanic guy with a tattoo on his throat. It’s The Scream, by Edvard Munch. He warned me with a vial of acid that David should keep his mouth shut. I’m guessing he’s muscle, working for Harland and Sinton off the books. You know him?”
“I only know the firm’s security team. Dell told me he already filled you in on Gill and his men. I haven’t seen anyone matching that description around the firm. I’ll look into it. If you see him again, call me.”
“Thanks. If I see him, I’ll call.”
Kennedy’s voice became heavy, slow.
“I’m sorry, Eddie. I got you into this. I’d only joined the task force last month. They’d gotten nowhere and I was brought in to look over the evidence, see if there was something they missed. Despite what Dell told you just now, we were going to indict the associates if we couldn’t nail Harland and Sinton. We were all set to do it, too. Then Child fell into our lap over the weekend. Dell wanted Child to cut a deal, but we had to separate him from the firm and get him a new attorney. He asked me if I knew anyone who could handle it for a nice payoff. I suggested you. He said he’d heard the name before, and he pulled Christine’s file. He had deep background on all of the associates. You were the perfect fit for the job. Eddie, I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t set me up. You can help me now. Get whatever files you can grab and meet me in my office in an hour. I need to start planning what the hell I’m going say at the hearing tomorrow.”
My thoughts became lost. Silence filled the line.
“You know, you might be wrong about this. I know you think Child doesn’t have it in him, but the security camera footage from the apartment building puts him as the last person to leave that apartment and minutes later his girlfriend’s body is found. She’s dead from multiple gunshot wounds and the gun is in your client’s car. The facts make him good for the murder. Are you sure you’re on the right side of this?”
“I’m a defense attorney, Kennedy. I don’t have a right side—I just have a client.”
That was what Kennedy expected to hear. All law enforcement think the same thing about attorneys. How do they sleep knowing they set the guilty free? It’s even harder to sleep when you’ve got an innocent man in jail. Well, I was done with nightmares.
“Don’t worry. I know I’m right on this one. I can feel it. I’ll see you in my office in an hour.”
“Okay, but let me check it out first, make sure it’s safe. What are you gonna do for an hour?” asked Kennedy.
I thought it over. There was nothing to be gained from heading back to the Lizard’s house. Besides, I’d had an idea.
“I’m going to fry Zader’s backup,” I said.
“What? The grand jury? What are you gonna do?”
“I’m going to get my secret weapon, which’ll give us a chance at destroying the case if it ever gets as far as the grand jury.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I’m going to hire Child another lawyer.”