Brad Meltzer - Dead Even

“Are you okay?” the guard asked Victor.

Without answering, Victor turned away from Kozlow’s cell and left the holding area.

“What the hell kind of deal is that?” Joel Rose screamed.

“That’s the best we could do,” Jared said with his eyes closed, cradling the phone receiver on his shoulder. From the moment he made the call, Jared knew he was going to have to brace himself for the worst. Lubetsky didn’t like the final amount of the settlement, but Joel Rose, president and CEO of Rose Microsystems, was the one who was going to have to pay it – which meant he liked the amount even less. Trying his best to sound happy with the result, Jared said, “And considering the alternative, that’s not too bad a number.”

“Really?” Rose asked. “Say that number again for me, Jared.”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand.”

“Now listen to me, Jared. That number has eight syllables. And since more syllables usually means more money, eight syllables means a great deal of money. So once again, does that sound like a small number to you?”

“Mr. Rose, I know you didn’t want to pay that much, but it really is a fair deal – trust me, it could’ve come out much worse.”

“Trust you?” Rose’s voice boomed with fury. “This isn’t the damn Boy Scouts, it’s a – you know what? Put me on with Lubetsky. I’m sick of dealing with imbeciles.”

“Are you sure he’ll help us?” Sara asked as she sat down at her desk.

“When Conrad says he’s going to do something, he does it,” Guff replied.

“What’s his story?”

“Conrad Moore is an unbelievable prosecutor – one of the most respected in the office. More important, he’s the person I originally worked for when I started here. I asked him if he would give you some advice with the situation, and he said he’d be happy to.”

“That’s great,” she said. “Thank you, Guff.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until you meet him. He’s a bit intense.”

“What do you mean, intense?”

“For the past four years running, Conrad has had the largest trial caseload in the entire DA’s office. He goes to trial more than anyone.”

“Why?”

“It’s pretty simple – he never accepts a plea bargain. If you committed a crime, he’s going to send you to jail. Period. No negotiating, no pleading to a lower count, no favors. And since he gets great cases, he can afford to do it.”

“If he’s so busy, where’s he finding time to help me?”

“All I know is he just finished mentoring someone else, so when he said yes, I jumped at the opportunity.”

“Whatever it is, I’ll take it. When do we get started?”

Guff looked down at his watch. “He said he’d call right about-”

Sara’s phone started ringing.

“I’d say right about now,” Guff said, folding his arms across his chest with a grin.

“This is Sara,” she said as she picked up the receiver.

“That’s not how you answer the phone,” a voice said. “What’s your job now?”

“Who’s this?” Sara asked.

“This is Conrad Moore. Guff said you needed some help. Now what’s your job here?”

“I’m a DA,” Sara stammered.

“You’re not a DA,” Conrad said, his tone stern. “On TV, everyone’s a DA. In the movies, everyone’s a DA. In real life, though, there’s only one DA: Arthur Monaghan. Our boss. And in real life, you’re an assistant district attorney. An ADA. So when you answer the phone, you tell whoever’s calling who they’re dealing with. Understand?”

Sara heard the phone click as Conrad hung up. Five seconds later, her phone rang again. Hesitantly, she picked it up. “Assistant district attorney’s office. This is Sara,” she answered.

“No!” Conrad shouted. “This is their first impression of you. You want them to think they’ve reached the receptionist? What’s your last name, Sara?”

“Tate.”

“Then that’s all you give them. In this office, we deal with criminals. And unlike the law firm you used to work at, we don’t want more clients – we want less. So we don’t need to be nice. We want to be mean. We want people to be scared when they commit a crime. So don’t get buddy-buddy with them. From now on, you’re ADA Tate. That’s all.” Again, Conrad hung up.

Five seconds later, Sara’s phone rang. Picking it up, she screamed, “ ADA Tate! Now who the fuck is this? ”

“That’s good,” Conrad said. “That’s the intimidation we’re looking for.”

“I’m glad. Now am I ever going to meet you face-to-face, or are we going to talk on the phone all day?”

“Come over right now,” Conrad said, his voice warming up. “I’m at the end of the hall on your right. Room 755.”

Hanging up the phone, Sara turned to Guff and took a deep breath. “We’re in. Want to come?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting all day for this,” Guff said. “So what’d you think?”

“He’s certainly aggressive,” Sara said as she stepped into the hallway. “I just hope he can get us out of this mess.”

Victor walked briskly up Centre Street, anxious to get back to the office. The afternoon’s events had taken up more time than he would’ve hoped, and he still hadn’t been able to get in touch with Rafferty. But as he was crossing the street in front of the old Federal Courthouse, his cellular phone rang. Unlisted with the DA’s office, the number was Victor’s private line and was to be used only in emergencies. He flipped open the phone and answered, “Who’s this?”

“Who’s this?” Kozlow asked, mimicking Victor’s deep voice. “How you doing, Vic? Long time, no slam your face in the bars.”

Victor stopped a step short of the curb. “How are you calling me?”

“Everyone gets a phone call, asshole. Even I know that. And if Mr. Rafferty makes a quick donation, I get unlimited access – know what I’m saying?”

“Why’d he give you this number?”

“He’s not happy with you, Vic. Things aren’t going as planned.”

Victor looked around at the pedestrians near the courthouse. No one was close enough to hear. “So why doesn’t he call me?”

“He doesn’t care about speaking to you. He just wants to know what we should do.”

“Not ‘we,’” Victor said, barely hiding his anger. “I’m done. You guys are on your own.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Actually, it is. I came in as a favor to our mutual friend, and now I’m stepping out.”

“But you can still take the case.”

“I told you, I’m done. My things-to-do list is full enough – I don’t need to add jeopardizing my career to it. Understand what I’m saying, you little psychopath?”

There was a cold silence on the other end of the line. “Just tell me one last thing,” Kozlow muttered. “What’s our best option now?”

“That’s easy,” Victor said. “He has to make sure you’re found innocent – if you’re found guilty, your boss loses. So if I were him, I’d find out all I could about the new ADA who has the case. She’s the one you have to beat.”

“Her name?”

“Sara,” Victor said. “Sara Tate.”

STANDING OUTSIDE OF CONRAD’S OFFICE, SARA READ the two quotations that decorated his closed door: “ Crimine ab uno disce omnes – From a single crime know the nation” – Virgil; and “Fame is something which must be won; honor is something which must not be lost” – Arthur Schopenhauer.

Sara looked at Guff and raised her eyebrows. “What did you call him? Intense?”

Guff grinned and knocked on the frosted glass. “Come in,” a voice growled from behind the door. They entered.

Conrad was standing at his desk, sorting through papers. He was shorter than Sara had imagined, a man of average height, with a compact but powerful build. With jet-black hair and penetrating brown eyes, he looked as intimidating as he sounded. But a warm, gracious smile offset the visual threat.