David Rosenfelt - Dog Tags

I’m torn as to what to do here. If M is really there, it would be extraordinarily dangerous for Willie to go chasing him. Everyone familiar with him tells me he’s an ice-cold killer, the kind of guy it would require an army or Marcus to take down.

On the other hand, there seems to be a very good chance that the informant was wrong, since I know of no reason for M to have gone off to a small Massachusetts town. Also, the guy reported that M may well have left, thereby covering himself nicely if he was wrong. The report could have been just to get on Russo’s good side.

Making my decision considerably less important is the fact that Willie wouldn’t listen to me anyway. He’s going to Everett, with my blessing or not.

“Willie, be careful. This is not a guy to fool around with.”

“I hear you,” he says.

“If you find him, you call me, and I’ll get the FBI to move in. Cindy Spodek works out of the Boston office.”

“I hear you.”

“But my recommendation is that you not go at all.”

“Can’t hear you,” he says, and hangs up. I’m beginning to think that I am not Andy, the Supreme Leader.

I no sooner get off the phone than Sam calls. I’m going to have to sit my crack staff down and explain to them that we are a nine-to-five operation.

“I think I’ve got it, Andy. It’s gas.”

“Sorry to hear that, Sam. Why don’t you take a Pepto-Bismol and call me later?”

“Come on, Andy. You know what I mean. Chaplin’s company has been taking positions in natural gas. It’s mostly on behalf of the same companies that made the killings on oil and rhodium.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Well, I’m sure that they have big positions in natural gas. The problem is that they are a large company, so they have a lot of investments. So there could be something else I’m missing that’s even bigger; it will take me a while to make sure.”

“How much do they stand to make on the gas?” I ask, knowing that he can’t really answer the question, since it would depend on how much the price of natural gas were to go up.

“A lot” is his answer. “They’ve got bigger positions than the other two times combined. If it goes down the same way, they’re going to make a killing.”

His choice of words is uncomfortable for me. I still have a dilemma; a mistrial is not an acquittal, so Billy is far from off the hook. But telling Benson Landon’s name may not be enough to prevent whatever is going to happen, and I am tempted to tell him what Sam has learned about the natural gas investments.

I decide to wait the rest of the day to see what the fallout is from yesterday’s mistrial. The media has latched on to the news that the last vote the jury took was heavily in favor of conviction, and their unconfirmed general belief is that juror number nine was one of the two dissenters.

I have an early-afternoon appointment at the prison to see Billy, who is craving information about his situation. I tell him I’m in negotiations with the FBI, trying to get them to reveal information that can exonerate him.

“Information they’ve had all along?”

I nod. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Bastards. They just let me sit here?”

“I’m working on changing that, but it’s a little tricky.”

“Work hard, okay? I’m getting a little sick of this place. And I’m looking forward to seeing my man Milo.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“It’s time you started earning the money I’m not paying you,” he says.

I’ve come to like Billy a lot, but I’m looking forward to the day that he’s no longer a client. For both our sakes.

I leave the prison and get a phone call from Eli’s assistant, asking if I can come to his office right away. He’s in a meeting, but he’ll be back in twenty minutes, just about the time I would get there. The message is that it’s very important.

I’m there in fifteen minutes, and Eli is waiting for me. If he’s happy to see me, he’s hiding it well. He looks like Hike on a particularly bad day.

“You okay, Eli?”

“Yeah, I’m giddy with happiness. Thanks for coming, Andy. I wanted to tell you something before you heard it in the media.” He looks at his watch. “Which will be any minute.”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re officially dropping the charges against Zimmerman. There won’t be a retrial.”

I’m shocked, not at the decision, but at the timing. To drop charges hours after word is released that the jury was ten–two in favor of conviction is to invite public anger. “Why?”

“Between us?”

“Of course.”

“I have no idea. The word came down from up high that it was going to end this way.”

“How high?”

“The attorney general of the State of New Jersey. I believe that he was in very intense discussions with agents of the federal government.”

“I’m obviously pleased about this, Eli. But you know it’s going to look bad.”

He nods. “Tell me about it. They’re going to say that some new information has surfaced, and then hope it all blows over. But anyone with a brain will know there’s something wrong.”

I stop at the prison to tell Billy the great news, and he hugs me in relief upon hearing it. Man-hugs are among my least favorite things, and prison man-hugs with large men are the absolute worst. Since the prison officials haven’t received notification yet, I tell Billy that it probably won’t be until morning that he is officially released.

“Me and Milo,” he says. “You saved us both.”

His saying that makes me realize that Milo and I are soon going to be parting company. I’m going to miss him; he’s a lot of fun, and he’s one of the few living creatures who trusts me completely. I’m sure Tara is going to miss him even more.

I’m almost home when I hear on the radio that the government has decided to drop the charges against Billy. As Eli said, they are claiming additional information has come up that would make a conviction impossible, but they cannot reveal what it is, for fear of jeopardizing a “continuing investigation.” God forbid.

I call Benson’s office and am told that he is “out in the field” and is not expected back until the morning. I don’t have his cell phone number with me, but I’m not sure I’d call him anyway. Agents may not like to be bothered when they’re in the field. Instead I leave a message for him to call me, that I have information for him that could be significant.

I’m having a weird post-trial reaction. Usually I am either euphoric by a victory or devastated by a defeat, but this is somewhere in the middle. I’m happy that Billy is free and that justice was served, but I’m very disappointed and uneasy with the way it was served.

It is ominous to me that members of the FBI can manipulate the justice system the way they did, with apparent ease. I can’t imagine that they broke new ground here; they must have done it before. And if they can do it in favor of the defendant, why not the prosecution? The implications are chilling.

The only even slightly mitigating factor is that they knew Billy was innocent, and their actions served to eliminate the possibility of a wrongful conviction. I don’t know if that was their motivation; I can only hope it was. But I still don’t like it.

After every victorious trial we have a tradition of having a party at Charlie’s to celebrate. I’m not inclined to do so this time, even though whenever a client goes free I consider it a victory. Not only am I not in a partying mood, but Charlie’s has not yet reopened.

Also, a couple of Laurie’s Findlay friends are vacationing in New York, and Laurie is having dinner with them tonight. A party without her is definitely starting at a disadvantage in my mind. Besides, with Marcus off the case, I don’t want to leave Milo and Tara alone. I have no reason to think Milo is still in danger, but you never know.