Linda Fairstein - Hell Gate

“So why kill Salma?” Liz asked again.

“Reid’ll turn on a dime,” Mike said. “He’ll tell you why, if you sweeten his deal.”

I raised my head. “Sweeten nothing. We’ll help you build a case.”

“Yo, blondie,” Mike said, clapping his hands as he did a double take. “The phoenix is rising, Ms. Arrington. You’ll get her back in the game.”

“I don’t want to see any deal for Kendall Reid, Liz. Once you meet some of these victims and see the lives he’s destroyed, I think you’ll understand.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Claire Leighton thinks Salma signed her own death warrant,” I said. “She confided in Battaglia yesterday. Salma fell in love with Ethan, or at least thought she could make a run for the whole package. Without the baggage of the baby.”

“So their argument the night of the car accident?” Liz asked.

“It was about Ana’s fever, to start,” Mercer said, filling in from what I had told him. “But Salma wanted Ethan to leave Claire, and she was tired of the charade about Ana being their child. Truth is, she didn’t want anything more to do with the baby.”

“That means Rowdy Kitts was about to lose the goose that laid the golden egg,” Liz said. “His blackmail ammunition to follow Leighton for life, up the political ranks.”

“Kendall Reid knew,” I said. “How cold-blooded can he be? That’s his very own baby. It’s unthinkable.”

“He certainly knew part of his seed money was stored in Salma’s closet,” Mercer said. “And since Rowdy was holding on to her papers, she had no choice but to sit there with it. She had nowhere to run.”

“And a rich sugar daddy to give her whatever she desired,” Mike said, folding a sheet from a legal pad on the table. “Salma didn’t want for cash.”

Liz walked toward Mike. “You think Rowdy went to Salma’s apartment intending to kill her?”

“Yeah, I do. Check the phone and e-mail action between Kendall Reid and Rowdy Kitts all day. That’s the whole plan behind the spoofing.”

“What kind of plan?”

“I gotta say, I was wrong. Coop called it on the spot. Spoiled my dinner, but she was right. She didn’t know about the murder, but she figured the idea behind the spoofing.”

I glanced at Mike-it was so rare for him to give me credit for anything-and Mercer patted my hand, winking at me.

“Those repeated nine-one-one calls did just what they were supposed to do,” Mike went on. “We haven’t tried to make a match to the woman who actually made them for Rowdy-voice print technology will help us do it-but you can bet she’s one of the young Mexicans trafficked in by him and by Reid. Setting Salma up as an out-of-control hysteric, Rowdy Kitts knew exactly what would happen.”

I picked up the thread. “The responding cops told Salma that they wouldn’t come back the next time she called. That’s what prompted me to fuss about going there with Mercer in the first place. Salma didn’t want detectives snooping around, but didn’t think she was in any danger with Kitts coming over. And he knew that even if things got out of hand when he attacked her, the next nine-one-one call-the one she tried to make from her cell phone before he killed her-would be ignored by the cops, who thought she was acting irrationally all through the day and evening.”

“The spoofed calls set the scene for Salma’s murder,” Liz said. “Now I see it. Let Kitts get the job done and gave him time to dispose of the body. The precinct cops had washed their hands of her.”

Another rap on the door and a federal marshal pushed in without waiting for an invitation. “Fifteen minutes, Ms. Arrington.”

She scowled at him. “I get it. We’d like some privacy.”

“You, Counselor,” he said, pointing at me. “You’ve got a fan club.”

Mike tossed the paper plane he’d been crafting in my direction. “Coop never travels light. Those girls are loyal, I’ll give her that.”

“More like a stage-door Johnny,” the marshal said as he backed out.

“What is it, Coop? Didn’t trust us to get the job done? Call in the French Foreign Legion?”

Mike turned his back to me and looked out the window again.

I was thoroughly confused. If Luc had chosen this moment to surprise me, he had picked the wrong time. “I didn’t call anyone.”

“I did,” Mercer said. “I thought it would be good for you right now. Blame me for this one.”

“Capitaine Luc Rouget,” Mike muttered. “Légionnaire extraordinaire.”

“What am I missing?” Liz asked. “The French authorities are involved?”

“Yeah. French toast and French fries. Truffles and foie gras. Detective Wallace is clearly of the view that too many cooks don’t spoil the broth.” Mike started to pace around the table. “Really professional, Coop. Spare me the courtroom hand-holding, okay?”

Mercer stood up and Mike came to a stop. “I’ll explain this to you, Liz.”

“I’m beginning to get it.”

“You want us standing by in here during the arraignment?”

“Yes, please, Mercer. The judge may ask something I can’t answer without your input. You think Ethan Leighton is looking at a collar?”

“Down the line, yes. Depends how deeply he got himself entangled with the trafficking, by design or unintentionally,” I said. “There’s so much to be done before you’ve got all the answers.”

“And Liz has the troops to do it, Alex,” Mercer said. “You get to take a break.”

“Look, I’m going to help you and Mike.” That seemed far more important to me than entertaining Luc, no matter how far he had traveled. Something about the timing of his arrival felt all wrong to me, especially after my flirtation with Mike at Mercer’s house on Friday night.

Mike barely met my gaze as he waved me off. “There’ll be plenty for you to do next week. Give it a rest, Coop.”

“Have you made any decision about what becomes of all the passengers on the boat?” I asked.

Liz Arrington smiled at me. “This may be a first, Alex. We’re going to ask Washington to give amnesty to everyone on board. We’ll do some more background checks to make sure we haven’t got any young men with criminal records who slipped on in Ukraine, but I think the attorney general wants to use the Golden Voyagers as a public lesson about the trafficking problem.”

“The United States of America against Kendall Reid,” Mike said. “Sounds a hell of a lot better than just the People of the State of New York. Got the whole nation going against him in this court. Wish Kitts had lived long enough to hear the clerk say that with his name in bold print.”

Liz gathered her papers and jotted the last few notes on the file. “Can you give me a few hours today?”

“Of course,” I said.

Luc would understand this was the place I needed to be, the work I had to get done. Tonight, I could put thoughts of the prosecution aside and unleash the flood of emotions that were bottled up inside me.

“Hey, Coop,” Mike said, pulling out a chair to sit on my other side. “I’m sorry if I was rough on you. I was just trying to keep things light.”

“Got it. Nothing to apologize for.”

“You were right about Rowdy from day one, from years ago. You’ve got good instincts.”

“Bottle that, Alex. Two apologies and a compliment all in one week,” Mercer said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting either from him.”

“Tell you what. We’ll give you ten minutes with Luc in the jury room for a quick reunion. Then he can buy lunch for us. Sound good?”

“You break the news to Luc,” I said, laughing despite myself. “Luncheon for four, after flying all night to get here ’cause Mercer thought I need some shoring up. How very romantic.”