Brad Meltzer - Dead Even

“I already did.” Monaghan stood from his seat and pointed to his door. “Welcome to city politics,” he added. “Now get out.”

At the office, a small group of trial assistants clustered around Guff’s desk. “If she did do it, she’s a psycho,” an assistant with horn-rimmed glasses said. “I mean, why else would you goad someone into shooting at you?”

“Can you please leave me alone?” Guff asked, annoyed.

“I heard she didn’t want to give Rafferty even the tiniest chance to walk free,” another assistant said. “Instead, she forced his hand and shut him down. Sounds pretty ballsy to me.”

“I heard that was her plan all along,” an assistant with a crew cut added. “That the whole thing was a setup to kill Rafferty.”

“It wasn’t,” Sara said, pushing her way through the assistants. “It was a last-minute emotional decision that had no basis in rational thought. I thought my husband was going to die, so I wanted immediate revenge.”

Startled, the group didn’t move.

Sara looked down at Guff, then back at the assistants. “Go away. Leave him alone.”

As the group dispersed, Guff followed Sara into her office. When he saw her packing up her briefcase, he said, “They fired you?”

“Oh, no,” Sara said. “I got relegated to a far lower circle of hell: I’m doing photo ops with the mayor.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not a bit. Monaghan chewed me out for Conrad and for wasting resources, but the mayor loves the PR potential of the story. Anyway, Jared’s the one they want in the photo – the mayor needs a good hospital bed to put his arm around.”

“How’s Jared doing?”

“Physically, he should be okay. The bullet just missed his spine, but it ripped open a lung. He also had some temporary paralysis in his legs, but the doctors said that was just from the shock of being shot in the back. Emotionally, though, he’s on a different track.”

“Did he decide what he’s going to do about his firm?”

“What’s to decide? Thomas Wayne personally called him up and told him to resign. The bastard didn’t even wait until Jared was out of the hospital.”

“I still don’t understand why he has to resign. Can’t he just-”

“Guff, to save the two of us, Jared told me confidential client information. More important, both clients wound up dead. The DA’s office may have a public-relations wet dream, but Wayne and Portnoy has a PR nightmare. Every client of the firm is now terrified their secrets aren’t safe.”

“How’s Jared dealing with it?”

“It’s still too soon to tell. He was crushed when he first found out, but I think he’s realized it had to be like this. Besides, any place that won’t even give you a week to recover isn’t the place you want to be for the rest of your life.”

“Is that his rationalization or yours?”

“Last year, it was mine; now it’s his. But I think he actually feels it.”

“Great,” Guff muttered. “Then at least one good thing came of this.”

That was all Sara needed to hear. She had avoided the subject until now, but it was time to talk about it. “Guff-”

“We shouldn’t have done it, Sara. We were out of our league.”

“Do you really think that? Do you really think we didn’t know what we were getting into?”

“But Conrad-”

“Conrad knew better than anyone. You remember what he said.”

“Of course I remember – and thanks to this, I’ll never forget. When we suggested sending a cop, he was the one who said we should do it ourselves, that that was the only way to ensure the secret. The thing is-”

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Sara said.

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Guff agreed. Sara had hit it right on the head. Just like Conrad used to. “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put the burden on you.”

“It’s not like that anymore – I don’t mind the burden. And in this case, I deserve it. I just want to make sure you-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get through it. Between the two of us, we’ll have plenty to keep us busy: cases to prosecute, reporters to talk to, essays to write…”

“Essays?”

“Sure, if I’m going to get into law school, I’m going to need some good essays.”

Sara smiled. “You’re really applying to law school?”

“Would this face lie?” Guff asked, squeezing his own cheeks. “That was always the plan. This just gave it more immediacy.”

“Good for you, Guff. I think he’d really like that.”

“Of course he would. Then he’d have another disciple to brainwash.”

Sara laughed. They’d definitely get through it. “Speaking of disciples, O Great One, in the rush to get out of there yesterday, I never got a chance to thank you for everything you did. Without you-”

“You wouldn’t have stolen the case? You wouldn’t have gone through this ordeal? You wouldn’t have a sofa or a cool DA’s badge?”

“I’m serious, Alexander.”

“Uh-oh, first-name alert! First-name alert! Incoming serious discourse!”

“Make jokes all you want, but I really appreciate everything you did. You didn’t make me take the case – I took it to help myself. And since neither of us could’ve known that Victor set me up for it, it’s my responsibility.”

“That’s nice, but you don’t have to-”

“Please let me finish,” Sara said. “I promise I won’t get mushy or sentimental. From the moment I walked in here, you were my… amigo. And as someone who doesn’t get close to many people, that means a lot to me. No matter how bad things got, you were always there to help, and you always-”

“You’re getting muuushy,” Guff sang.

“Just take the compliment. Thank you for everything.”

“Fine. You’re welcome. I just hope our next adventure is a bit more pedestrian. Maybe we can get a cult massacre or something calming like that.”

“We should be so lucky.”

“Exactly,” Guff said. “And speaking of lucky, Adam Flam wants to talk to you.”

“Who’s Adam Flam?”

“Head of the discipline committee. They just got out of the Victor meeting.”

“They did? What’d they decide?”

“Go talk to him.”

“C’mon, Guff, just tell me.”

“I’m not saying a word. If you want to find out, talk to him. Room 762.”

“Fine,” Sara said, heading to the door. “But it better not be bad news.”

“What do you mean you’re not indicting?” Sara asked as she stood in front of Flam’s desk.

“Just what I said,” Flam replied calmly. He was a thickset man with tired eyes and a heavy Boston accent. “The committee decided there wasn’t enough evidence to indict.”

“Not enough evidence? If there wasn’t enough evidence, why’d they put him on probation? Since the moment this thing started, Victor’s had his hand in everything we’ve done. He was the one who asked for the case, and when he got it, he was the one who made sure I took it from him.”

“Asking for a case isn’t illegal. And last I checked, neither is putting your own name on a case folder.”

“What about Doniger? She can testify that-”

“Doniger doesn’t know anything. We questioned her until three in the morning, and she didn’t give us a scrap. Whatever Victor was involved in, his ties were only to Rafferty and Kozlow, both of whom, as corpses, would be terrible witnesses. It’s a simple proof issue – and until we can get that, the committee decided they didn’t want to risk morale on an unsuccessful indictment.”

“Morale? What the hell does this have to do with morale?”

“Everything,” Flam answered. “Victor’s one of the most respected ADAs in this office – he’s part of the institution. So before you can take him down, you better be sure you have the evidence against him. If not, you’re going to have half of the law-enforcement population screaming for your head.”