Brad Meltzer - Dead Even

Kathleen let the information sink in. “So that’s why he was asking me all those questions about you and Sara this morning.”

“He asked you questions about us?”

“Tons of them. He called while you were in the grand jury – wanted to know everything. Your reputations, temperaments, work habits. Of course I didn’t give him anything, but he was trying to figure out how you tick and how you work.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.” She stood from her seat and added, “We have to do something about this.”

“I put Barrow on the case,” Jared said in a panic.

“That’s not enough – that just tells us if Rafferty’s a heavy hitter. Why don’t you tell Sara? She has a right to know.”

“I can’t tell her, Kathleen. You know how she’ll react. She’ll be after Rafferty before I can even finish the story.”

“That’s because she’s smart.”

“No, it’s because she’s a hothead. And in this case, confrontation isn’t the best solution.”

“But don’t you think-”

“Kathleen, I’ve thought of everything. This is my wife we’re talking about. My whole world. For the past week all I can think about is losing her. Do you know what that’s like?” Jared asked. “I go to sleep every night wondering if they’re going to take her away from me. And that’s the first question I ask myself every morning. Throughout the day, she’s all I can think about. Last night, I dreamt about what I would say at her funeral. Do you know how terrifying that is? She’s my life, Kathleen.”

Kathleen put her hand on Jared’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Jared wiped his eyes. “All week, I’ve been searching for the best solution. Should I go to the police, or should I stay quiet? Should I tell Sara, or is she safer not knowing? I’m dying to tell her. How can I not tell her? But I believe Rafferty when he says he’s watching my every move. I believe him when he says that if I tell anyone, he’ll go after her.”

“Then why’d you tell me?”

“You figured it out. Once you got that far, I knew the only way to keep you quiet was to fill you in on the consequences.”

“But-”

“There is no ‘but.’ If I tell Sara, she’ll flip. She’ll start hunting everyone involved, which’ll only make things worse. The best way to protect her is to make sure she never finds out. And since it’s my problem, that’s how I’m choosing to deal with it. If you disagree, you can call personnel and have them assign you to a new lawyer. Otherwise, I’m asking you to please do things my way. Regardless of what you think, I could really use the support.”

“So you’re just going to do what they say?”

“I’m supposed to do what they say – winning the case is my job, remember?”

“What if you don’t win?”

“Believe me, I’ll win,” Jared said. “No matter what I have to do, I’m winning this case. Now what do you say?”

Kathleen gave him a warm smile. “You already know the answer. If I didn’t like spending time in your trenches, I would’ve walked away years ago.”

“Thank you, Kathleen,” Jared said. “I pray you don’t regret it.”

Sara skipped lunch and spent the next hour at her desk catching up on her other cases. The first shoplifter and the drug possession both agreed to community service, so those were two out of the way. But the second shoplifter and the pickpocket were doing their best to stall. Experienced at manipulating the system, they knew it’d take months to schedule them for trial, and once Sara checked the impossibly long wait lists of the misdemeanor courts, she knew that they were right.

Frustrated, she turned her attention back to Kozlow’s burglary and continued her search through Victor’s old files. She couldn’t find a single link between Victor and Kozlow or Doniger. Kozlow had never been a witness for Victor or an informant for him. Neither had Doniger. Hoping for a breakthrough, Sara closed the last of the yellowing folders and pulled out a brand-new legal pad. Staring at the blank page, she asked herself: Why would Victor want this case? Silently brainstorming, she made a mental list of possible answers: because he knows Kozlow, because he hates Kozlow, because he wants to punish Kozlow, because he wants to help Kozlow, because he thinks it’s a good case. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she said, still staring down at the legal pad.

Absently, she heard the door open and someone step inside. It was Guff, she thought. He closed the door softly. Then she heard the metallic thunk of the lock falling into place.

She looked up. There he was right in front of her – that face, those sunken cheeks – the man who had knocked her over and stolen her wallet. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sara asked as she stood from her seat.

“Giving us some privacy,” the man said. He wore an inexpensive gray suit and his voice was low, with a hint of ridicule in it.

“You have about one second to open that door before I-”

“I can open the door, but I didn’t think you’d want everyone hearing us talk about the Kozlow case.”

Sara took another good look at her visitor. “Please. Sit.” As the stranger obliged, Sara added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it. I’m just a friend of the victim.”

“So you know Doniger?”

“I said the victim,” he replied. “And by the way, I heard about your performance in the grand jury today. I’m extremely disappointed in you.”

“Stop right there. Let me guess: Kozlow sent you to threaten me. He doesn’t want me to go forward with the case.”

“Actually, you have it backwards. I not only want you to go forward with the case, I want you to win the case. But after what happened this morning with your husband – well, in my opinion, you almost blew it today.”

“What’re you talking about?” Sara said. As she asked the question, she pulled her legal pad onto her lap.

“What’re you doing?” the man asked.

“Taking some notes,” Sara said. She kept the pad out of view as she discreetly sketched a picture of her visitor. “Now tell me how I almost blew it today. What’s the story there?”

“The story is about your husband and the way he tried to manipulate you.” Dropping his voice to a deeper tone, he said, “‘C’mon, Sara, do it for us. It’ll be great for both our careers. Dump this case, pick up a better one, and bring home a real victory.’”

Sara stopped sketching. “Where’d you hear that?”

“It’s amazing what you can hear in a crowded hallway. Let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Now Sara was annoyed. “Let me tell you something: You keep using that tone with me, and I’ll charge you with menacing, coercion, and obstructing governmental administration.”

Showing no fear, the man replied, “I’m impressed. You finally know your statutes.”

Sara didn’t move.

“Sara, tell me if you recognize this story. There’s this little girl who’s afraid of nothing. Suddenly, she gets fired from her job, and that loss not only forces her to seek psychological help, but also reignites feelings about the death of her parents. Then, things get so bad, she has to start taking medication to deal with the depression. The crazy thing is, she’s so desperate to get a job, she never reports the medication on her employment application. And since it’s a government position, that omission is now a potential legal problem for her.”

“That application was submitted before I ever got the prescription.”

“But it’s your job to keep the application up to date. Even if you didn’t do it on purpose, seems like they’d be pissed about that.”