Carol O’Connell - Shell Game

She only glanced at it. „That’s probably Malakhai’s key. Franny didn’t plan to use real handcuffs. Malakhai switched the breakaways for real ones. That’s how he killed the old man.“

„So then Malakhai plan ted a key? Pretty slick. We’ll never prove murder.“

„I never saw Malakhai go on stage, never saw him duck under the table. Prado’s job was misdirection. If I can’t nail him for Oliver’s murder, I’ll get him on conspiracy for this one.“

„I don’t think so, kid. Malakhai did the hands-on murder. There’s nothing to tie Prado to conspiracy.“ Riker pulled up a wooden chair next to hers and straddled it, resting his folded arms across the back. „We can’t even make a case for motive.“

„I should’ve shot Malakhai on sight,“ said Mallory. „And I knew that. Another mistake.“

Riker looked over his shoulder to see Jack Coffey walking toward them with a damp raincoat slung over his shoulder. Had the lieutenant heard that last remark?

Coffey stopped in front of the desk. He wore his bad-news face as he looked down at Mallory. „I just finished with Prado. He claims you contributed to the accidental death of Futura. He says you actually prevented him from assisting the – “

„Prado engineered that homicide,“ said Mallory. „The act didn’t need any help. It worked just fine. Franny Futura is really, really dead.“

Riker put one hand on her shoulder to keep her from leaving the chair. „Easy, kid. Nobody believes it’s an accident. But Prado just killed the case. The newspapers will say it was your fault. Then they’ll crucify the whole department.“

Coffey sat on the edge of the desk. „Prado says he isn’t going to put that version in his formal statement. When he told me that, it had the smell of a deal. I’m taking your side on this, Mallory, but we can’t arrest either one of them. They both walk away.“

Mallory’s voice was too calm. „Did you take a close look at what they did? That didn’t make you sick?“

Riker was staring at her hands, folded tightly over one another to hide the slight tremor. This was not a symptom of frayed nerves, but a warning sign that she was close to losing her temper, her judgment and her job. She was containing the anger, but how long would that last?

Lieutenant Coffey nodded toward a man standing near the ladder of the suspension bridge. He was in his late twenties with a dark raincoat and a pasty-white face. „That’s Crane. He’s an assistant DA and a real jerk. But he’s the man on this one, and he says it’s a flat no. The DA’s office won’t even look at the case.“

Crane joined the small party of three, but stood a pronounced distance from Coffey. The man looked down at Mallory, as if from some lofty height. And Riker gathered that this was supposed to put the detective in her place.

But she was making her own assessments, openly appraising the lawyer’s cheap raincoat commensurate with the starting salary of an ADA. Even Riker could see that the sleeves were miles too long. Mallory’s tailor would have spat on that coat.

The man’s voice was an annoying nasal whine. „I understand all of Max Candle’s illusions were dangerous. And these people you’re accusing? Decorated war heroes, both of them. Their character reference is Emile St. John, a former bureau chief for Interpol.“ The assistant district attorney placed both hands on the desk and leaned entirely too close to Mallory. „You screwed up royally, Detective. If anyone sues the city for your part in this death, I’m going to throw – “

The assistant DA lost his place in this spiel which smacked of rehearsal. Though Mallory hardly moved, even a dense fool like Crane must realize that she really wanted to hurt him, and pain could only be moments away.

The lawyer pulled back and stood closer to Coffey as he made a show of straightening his tie. Then Crane’s lip curled up on one side, and Riker wondered if that little gesture of contempt had been perfected in a shaving mirror.

„It was a clear accident,“ said Crane. „The man dropped his handcuff key. Any idiot could see that. So why do I have to explain these simple facts to a cop? The next time you drag me out on a crime scene, you get your facts straight. Use your head. Open your eyes. Do you understand vat, Detective?“

Tomorrow morning, Mallory would become the joke of the district attorney’s office. This time, she would eat the humiliation – or maybe not. She was rising off the chair, but Riker had a tight grip on the back of her trench coat.

Jack Coffey’s expression was close to evil, almost a Mallory smile. „Riker, what do you think you’re doing? If she wants to deck the weasel, that’s her call.“

Riker’s hand dropped away, and he turned his eyes upward to study the neon sign over the door, as if the word EXIT might be a difficult read.

And now it was Mallory’s turn to smile.

„Wait, I changed my mind.“ Coffey stabbed the assistant DA with two fingers to the man’s chest, pushing him back a step. „You’re a real screwup, Crane. I saw the evidence – all of it.“ He jabbed the man’s chest again for emphasis. „I say she’s got a case. You’re too stupid or too scared to run with it.“

The lawyer’s face was going slack. He was sliding into shock, and with good reason. In the hierarchy of cops and prosecutors, this should not be happening to him.

„This is obviously your first day on the job,“ said Coffey. „So I’m not gonna list your mistakes in my report. If I did, your boss would ask me why I didn’t kick your sorry ass.“

What mistakes?

Riker knew the district attorney would never side with Jack Coffey. Come morning, the chief prosecutor would be all over the lieutenant for this transgression. It was policy and common practice to use cops for punching bags when the young princes of the DA’s office were thwarted or merely miffed. And a seasoned lawyer would know that. So it probably was Crane’s first day on the job.

And now Riker recognized this tango of brazenly shifting guilt and leading with a mouthful of lies. Lieutenant Coffey was taking lessons from Mallory.

They were all doomed.

Coffey glanced at his watch. „Tell you what, Crane. I’m gonna give you a ten-second running head start.“

The lieutenant moved toward the lawyer, and Crane retreated, no longer puffing out his chest in a last-ditch effort to convey the idea that he was still in charge. He was clearly confused, probably wondering what he had missed, what error he had made – the hallmark of a green ADA. Lieutenant Coffey had pegged the lawyer right; he was a weasel, and now the man was slinking away, gently closing the stage door behind him. In Riker’s lights, this was a good omen. If Crane intended to get even, if revenge was in his mind, the door would have slammed.

A clear win.

Coffey was facing the stage as he spoke to Mallory. „You’ve got nowhere to go with this case. It wasn’t a perfect murder, but damn close.“ He watched the medical examiner’s men reuniting the body parts in a long black zippered bag. „You got zero chance of Prado confessing to conspiracy. And no physical evidence of murder. Now Malakhai’s a certified card-carrying lunatic. Suppose you got a confession from him? A madman’s testimony is no good, not against himself or anyone else.“

Mallory’s hands unfolded and relaxed on the arms of the wooden chair. Her voice was listless. „If we could get this case in front of a jury, I could diagram the whole thing.“

Coffey shook his head. For the first time, he seemed reluctant to win an argument with her. „It all hangs on your testimony, Mallory. Nick Prado will kill your credibility if he hangs this death on you.“ He pulled on his raincoat as the gurney moved past the desk, pushed along by the medical examiner’s men. „I’m sorry you couldn’t save that old guy. I’m glad you tried.“ The lieutenant watched the progress of the rolling body bag until it had cleared the stage door. „Mallory? If I’d given you the manpower you wanted – “