Russell Blake: Silver Justice

Rob blinked at him without expression. The man nodded at his fellow guards, who jerked him into motion.

A solitary figure in a suit stood watching the procession at the far end of the receiving facility and nodded when the head of the day shift approached him.

“If there’s anything you can do to make his life worse than it will be just by virtue of being here, think of it as my special request for you to do so. He put out a contract on an FBI agent. We’ll keep him here until that works its way through the system, or until he dies — whichever occurs first,” Agent Heron said.

“People die all the time. He doesn’t look particularly healthy.”

“No, I suspect he isn’t.”

“Consider it my pleasure, then. You need an escort out?”

“I was never here.”

Silver adjusted the cushion at the base of her spine and swiveled the chair a little as she tried to get comfortable. The headaches had receded over the last three days, but the back was still prone to aching. Her doctors had assured her that in time it, too, would fade; as far as she was concerned, it couldn’t happen fast enough.

This was her first full day back at work, and she studied the pile of paperwork with loathing. A week off and she’d accumulated enough on her desk to require a month of her time just to get even. The good news was that she didn’t have much else to do — with Howard in custody, the task force had wound down, so she was between assignments at present.

Sam avoided her as much as possible, which was fine. If she never had to deal with him again that would be too soon. He’d taken her success in apprehending Howard almost personally, as a deliberately contrived sleight, and had been moping all morning after coming in and giving her a desultory, obligatory congratulation.

Some people were just magnets for bad karma. Sam was clearly one of those.

Whatever — it wasn’t her problem.

Dendt had died the prior morning from radiation poisoning. She’d deliberately avoided paying too much attention to the descriptions of his decline. Perhaps he was a malignancy, as Howard had posited, but still, nobody deserved to go that way.

Seth knocked lightly on her door jamb. She looked up from her pile with relief.

“How does it feel to be back in the saddle?” he asked with a smile.

“Like being a third grade teacher with five hundred homework assignments to grade.” She gestured at the mounds of reports.

“Hey, at least it’s over, and the good guys won again,” he said as he sat down. “And you’re now an official legend in Bureau history. I think taking a serial into custody while flat on your back and on leave is a first. I’m not sure how you top that.”

“I’m not planning to. Besides, that was mostly luck.”

Seth gave her a disbelieving look. “I sort of figured.”

“Sam doesn’t look too happy about it,” Silver observed.

“Yeah, well, he was gearing up to hang the whole thing on a Muslim fundamentalist terror cell, or the mob, or both, and you spoiled his party. It would have made quite a name for him if that had turned out to be right.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing when I didn’t win The Big Spin again last night. If only…”

They both chuckled, then Silver raised an eyebrow in warning.

Brett’s suited form filled the doorway, causing Seth to jump to his feet.

“I was just leaving,” he said.

Brett nodded.

Once Seth had departed, Brett closed the door behind him and took a seat in front of her desk.

“How are you doing?”

“Not bad. Tough to get back into the swing of things, but then again, I was never much for pushing a pencil.”

“I know the feeling. I’ve put you in for a commendation, by the way. I’m pretty sure it will be a laydown.”

“Thank you for that. It means a lot to me.” Which was true. Recognition of her excellence on the job was one of the ways she measured herself, and it never hurt to hear you were doing a good job.

“I read the interrogation transcript. Pretty heavy stuff. Anything you want to talk about?”

Silver considered her words carefully. “What did you think about it?”

Brett leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “We live by rules and conventions, Silver. You know that. They aren’t perfect, and God knows we’ve all had moments where we wish we could take matters into our own hands. But what keeps everything from breaking down is that we don’t. As flawed as things are, they’re better than a lot of other places in the world, so even if I conceded that he has some valid points, which I’m not saying he does, what are the alternatives? In the end, he got what he wanted, which is notoriety, and you did what you had to do, which is your job. That’s why you show up here every day.”

“I suppose so. But would it be stupid or naive for me to ask whether anything will ever come of his claims? If he’s even half right this was the crime of the century.”

“I’ll run it up the flagpole, but I don’t expect much. You know how things work. We’re very good at tracking a bank robber or a killer. Not so great at trying to build a case against, well, most of the big names in the world of high finance. Where do you even start?” Brett shook his head.

“With most crimes, you start at the beginning.”

“I know. But white collar crime isn’t the same. It’s frustrating for that reason. There are a lot of gray areas…”

“And a lot of very powerful people with their congressman’s home phone numbers on speed dial. I get it. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it’s one of the more frustrating cases I’ve had.”

Brett nodded as he got to his feet. “No disagreement there. But all we can do is mush on and live to fight another day. Right?” He walked to her door and opened it.

“That will have to do.”

Ben welcomed Silver into his office and gestured at his receptionist to bring her a bottle of water. He beamed at her as she sat down.

Once the woman had returned with the drink, he motioned for her to shut the door.

Silver gave him a quizzical look. “What’s the news?” she asked.

“Do you believe in Santa Claus?”

“Not since I was eight. Why?”

“Because from where I’m sitting, it’s Christmas in April.”

“Spit it out, Ben. I don’t think I can afford the humor. You’re too expensive by the joke.”

“Well, I can give you the long version or the short version. Seeing as you’re so testy, I’ll stick with the short. Your ex is no longer a problem. He’s pulled his motion, and I can’t see him being an issue for you anytime soon.”

“What? You’re kidding!” she exclaimed. “Tell me you’re not kidding, Ben.”

“You’re not kidding, Ben.”

Silver winced at the lame joke. “What happened?”

“Ah, so the longer version is suddenly of interest? Fine. Remember all those expensive private detectives you’ve been paying for? Well, they’re worth it. One of them was able to find a twenty-year-old intern who claims that your ex forced her to perform a whole slew of deplorable sexual acts while she was working for him, and that she ultimately quit because of the constant harassment. Apparently some money changed hands, so she never filed any charges, but she still holds a grudge. To make a long story short, even a hint of that would kill Eric’s chances of running for public office, so when we approached him for a friendly chat about it, he suddenly expressed fatigue over the toll that his custody battle was taking on everyone.”

“Yes, I imagine that signing the complaint was exhausting.”

“I commiserated with him and pointed out that we could probably make the entire thing go away without raising any problems with the current arrangement if he was willing to cover your accumulated legal expenses to date. That seemed fair to him.”