23

Ten minutes after Caleb Tate’s media coup, I was called into Regina Granger’s office. Masterson, who was campaigning in one of the far reaches of the state, was on speakerphone. Regina looked glum, and it was clear to me that she and Masterson had already been going at it.

“Jamie is here now,” Regina announced.

“Regina says you watched the Tate interview with her,” Masterson said.

“I did.”

“We’ve got to put out a statement right away denying those lynching comments. I’ve already had a dozen reporters call. That whole episode taints the integrity of our investigation.”

Masterson paused for a moment, and I decided not to answer.

“We could also put in the same release some verbiage about the unreliability of polygraph tests and urge everyone to withhold judgment until the police have completed their investigation. We need to have a measured but quick response.”

In a prosecutor’s office, there are things said and things left unsaid. That’s especially true when it comes to legal ethics, where everyone tiptoes and talks in ambiguities.

Masterson was a wily veteran and one of the most straightforward and ethical men I knew. But you don’t become DA without an extra portion of street smarts. I noticed he had never asked me if I made the statements. And that was no oversight. As long as he didn’t know one way or the other, he could authorize the DA’s spokesperson to issue a denial. It would be our word against Tate’s.

But these were not the kinds of games I played. It was the same reason I could never bring myself to plea bargain. I had this idealistic view of justice where there were good guys and bad guys. And when you start blurring the lines—a white lie here, a little deal there—it becomes impossible to distinguish them again.

“What does Regina think?” I asked. It was playing Mom against Dad, but I needed some help.

Regina gave me a sideways look as if she didn’t appreciate being put on the spot. “Regina thinks that no prosecutor in her right mind would threaten a defendant that way.” Her voice was cold, and she clipped her words. “I would hope people in our office would appreciate how repulsive that imagery is to African Americans.”

Regina glared at me, and I cast my gaze toward the floor.

“But I also told Bill I see no need to respond with any kind of public statement. It just dignifies what this clown did and deflects the focus from whether he killed his wife to whether someone in our office threatened him.”

I nodded, though I didn’t look her in the eye. I’d seen Masterson upset before, blustering about the office, chewing people out. But Regina was normally bubbly and cheerful, the grandmother who only saw the good in her grandkids. Seeing her this upset was unsettling.

“Let’s cut the BS,” Masterson said, his voice booming over the speaker. “Did you threaten to lynch him?”

I hesitated as my brain sifted through a hundred calculations. I had worked so hard the past four years, possibly harder than anyone. My integrity and judgment had never been questioned before. I was a rising star in the office, smart enough to know that a comment like this could be fatal to my career. I couldn’t see myself in private practice. And I knew that nobody would ever be able to prove whether I said it or not.

But I also knew that I had to live with myself. Good guys make mistakes. But they don’t lie to cover them up.

“Well?”

“I don’t think I used the word lynched. But I did say something about stringing him up.”

“A distinction without a difference,” Masterson said. His voice was more resigned now, the tone of disappointment. Regina gave me a sympathetic glance.

“It’s been a tough couple of weeks for her,” Regina reminded the boss. “And it’s not like Tate is a black suspect. We need to cut her some slack.”

“It was stupid,” I admitted. “I lost my temper. I’ve got no excuses.”

Masterson made us both wait a full five or ten seconds that seemed even longer. I was mad at myself, embarrassed for the office, ashamed. Basically, I just wanted to melt into the floor.

“I need time to think about this,” Masterson eventually said. “We’ll need to sort through it and see if we can survive the blowback. But in the short term, we’ve got to do two things. First, Jamie issues an apology. Second, I take her off the case pending a full investigation. Although it may be a moot point if we can’t get enough to indict.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Regina held up a hand. “I think that’s a mistake,” she said. “I’m okay with making Jamie apologize, but we can’t let this publicity stunt dictate who handles the case. Put Jamie in front of the cameras, and let her do a complete mea culpa. She can talk about her mom and Tate’s role in defending Antoine Marshall. She can mention losing her dad. The public will come around.”

“We can’t take that chance, Regina. It was a risk putting Jamie on this case to start with. We can’t jeopardize the investigation.”

“Bill, I think—”

“I’m not open for debate on this. Jamie, this is in your best interest. And frankly, none of this would be happening if you hadn’t let this guy bait you into making some stupid comments.”

“Yes, sir.”

One thing I appreciated about my boss was that he didn’t pull any punches, even when it hurt. You always knew exactly where you stood.

Yet this one was hard to swallow. If I ever needed somebody to cover my back, it was now. I felt like I’d given the last four years of my life to this office, and now the DA was leaving me flailing in the wind the first time I messed up. I wanted to ask him how much of this was covering his own rear in the political campaign. But my big mouth had already gotten me in trouble once, so I decided to swallow the words this time.

“Regina, why don’t you help Jamie craft an appropriate apology, and I’ll work with you on a statement about the investigation.”

“I think Jamie’s capable of doing her own apology,” Regina said.

“Fair enough. Jamie, shoot me an e-mail within thirty minutes.”

After the call, Regina asked if I needed to talk. I told her I thought things were pretty clear. I stalked down to my office, pounded out an e-mail apologizing for my insensitivity, and fired it off to Regina and Masterson.

When that was done, I headed home. I was tired of working late hours and getting no support in return.