Mary Clark - Let Me Call You Sweetheart

I could have told you that, Bob thought. He didn’t want to discuss any of this. If his client had tampered with that juror, it was without his knowledge, he reassured himself. And Haskell was the victim of a mugging, an interior voice mocked.

“Bobby, my sources tell me the sheriff’s officer in charge of the jury owes you a favor,” Weeks said.

“What are you talking about, Jimmy?” Bob Kinellen toyed with his salad fork.

“You know what I’m talking about. You got his kid out of trouble, big trouble. He’s grateful.”

“And?”

“Bobby, I think the sheriff’s officer has to let that prune-face, uptight Wagner dame know that her daddy, the murderer, is going to make big headlines unless she comes up with some reasonable doubt when this case goes to the jury.”

Lie down with dogs and you’ll get up with fleas. Kerry had told him that before Robin was born.

“Jimmy, we already have grounds for a new trial because she didn’t reveal that fact. That’s our ace in the hole. We don’t need to take it any further.” Bob shot a glance at his father-in-law. “Anthony and I are sticking our necks out by not reporting that to the court as it is. We can get away with claiming that it only came to our attention after the trial was over. Even if you’re convicted you’ll be out on bail, and then we delay and delay and delay.”

“Not good enough, Bobby. This time you’ve got to put yourself on the line. Have a friendly chat with the sheriff’s officer. He’ll listen. He’ll talk to the lady who already is in trouble for lying on her questionnaire. Then we have a hung jury, if not an acquittal. And then we delay and delay and delay while you two figure out a way to make sure we get an acquittal next time.”

The waiter returned with their appetizers. Bob Kinellen had ordered the escargots, a specialty here that he thoroughly enjoyed. It was only when he finished and the waiter was removing the plate that he realized he hadn’t tasted a thing. Jimmy isn’t the only one who’s being backed into a corner, he thought.

I’m right there with him.

Kerry went back to her office after the call from Si Morgan came through. She was now convinced that Arnott was irrevocably tied in some way to Suzanne Reardon’s death. Just how, though, would have to wait until he was in custody and she and Frank Green had had a chance to interrogate him.

There was a pile of messages on her desk, one of which, from Jonathan, was marked “Urgent.” He had left his private number at his local office. She called him immediately.

“Thanks for calling back, Kerry. I have to come over to Hackensack and I want to talk to you. Buy you lunch?”

A few weeks ago, he had started the conversation with “Buy you lunch, Judge?”

Kerry knew the omission today was not accidental. Jonathan played it straight. If the political fallout from her investigation cost Frank Green the nomination, she would have to forget about a judgeship, no matter how justified she had been. That was politics, and besides, there were plenty of other highly qualified people panting for the job.

“Of course, Jonathan.”

“Solari’s at one-thirty.”

She was sure she knew why he was calling. He had heard about Dr.

Smith and was worried about her and Robin.

She dialed Geoff’s office. He was having a sandwich at his desk.

“I’m glad I’m sitting down,” he told her when she filled him in about Arnott.

“The FBI will be photographing and cataloguing everything they find in the Catskill house. Morgan said the decision hasn’t been made whether to move everything into a warehouse or to just invite the people who’ve been robbed to come and identify their stuff right at that site. However they do it, when Green and I go up to talk to Arnott we want Mrs. Reardon along to positively identify the picture frame.”

“I’ll ask her to postpone going in for the angioplasty for a few days. Kerry, one of our associates was in federal court this morning. He tells me that Royce requested an extra hour for the lunch break. The word is that he may be offering immunity to Jimmy Weeks’ bookkeeper. He’s not going to take a chance on losing another prize witness by playing hardball.”

“It’s coming to a head, then?”

“Exactly.”

“Have you called Skip about Smith’s letter?”

“Right after I talked to you.”

“What was his reaction?”

“He started to cry.” Geoff’s voice became husky. “I did too.

He’s going to get out, Kerry, and you’re the reason.”

“No, you’re wrong. You and Robin are. I was ready to turn my back on him.”

“We’ll argue about that another time. Kerry, Deidre Reardon’s on the other phone. I’ve been trying to reach her. I’ll talk to you later. I don’t want you and Robin alone in your place tonight.”

Before Kerry left to meet Jonathan, she dialed Joe Palumbo’s cellular phone. He answered on the first ring. “Palumbo.”

“It’s Kerry, Joe.”

“Recess is over. Robin is back inside. I’m parked in front of the main entrance, which is the only unlocked door. I’ll drive her home and stay with her and the sitter.” He paused. Don’t worry, Momma. I’ll take good care of your baby.”

“I know you will. Thanks, Joe.”

It was time to meet Jonathan. As she hurried out to the corridor and rushed through the just-closing elevator door, Kerry kept thinking about the missing pin. Something about it seemed familiar. The two parts. The flower and the bud, like a mother and child. A momma and a baby… why did that seem to ring a bell? she wondered.

Jonathan was already seated at the table, sipping a club soda. He got up when he saw her coming. His brief, familiar hug was reassuring. “You look very tired, young lady,” he said. “Or is it very stressed?”

Whenever he talked to her like that, Kerry felt the remembered warmth of the days when her father was alive and felt a rush of gratitude that Jonathan in so many ways had been a surrogate father to her.

“It’s been quite a day so far,” she said as she sat down. “Did you hear about Dr. Smith?”

“Grace called me. She heard the news when she was having breakfast at ten o’clock. Sounds like more of Weeks’ handiwork. We’re both heartsick with worry about Robin.”

“So am I. But Joe Palumbo, one of our investigators, is outside her school. He’ll stay with her till I get home.”

The waiter was at the table. “Let’s order,” Kerry suggested, “and then I’ll fill you in.”

They both decided on onion soup, which arrived almost immediately. While they were eating, she told him about the Federal Express package with all the jewelry and the letter from Dr. Smith.

“You make me ashamed that I tried to dissuade you from your investigation, Kerry,” Jonathan said quietly. “I’ll do my best, but if the governor decides Green’s nomination is in jeopardy, it would be like him to take it out on you.”

“Well, at least there’s hope,” Kerry said. “And we can thank Grace for the tip she gave the FBI.” She told him what she had learned about Jason Arnott. “I can see where Frank Green is already planning to defuse negative publicity about Skip Reardon being unfairly prosecuted. He’s dying to announce that the cat burglar who murdered Congressman Peale’s mother was captured because of a tip from the wife of Senator Hoover. You’re going to come out of this as his best friend, and who can blame him? God knows you’re probably the most respected politician in New Jersey.”

Jonathan smiled. “We can always stretch the truth and say that Grace consulted Green first and he urged her to make the call.” Then the smile vanished. “Kerry, how does Arnott’s possible guilt in the Reardon case affect Robin? Is there a possibility that Arnott is the one who took that picture of her and sent it to you?”