Текст книги "The Simple Truth"

Автор книги: David Baldacci

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 26 страниц)

Chandler swiftly did the math. Eighty-six thousand, five hundred and forty-three.

Now look at the Hondas current odometer reading.

Chandler leaned back in the car and checked. Then he looked back at Fiske, his eyes slightly wide. Somebody put about eight hundred miles on this car in the last three days.

Thats right, Fiske said.

Where the hell did he go?

The sticker doesnt have which Wal-Mart he used, but probably it was one close to his home. You should call around, they might be able to tell us something useful.

Right. Cant believe we missed this, said Chandler. He slipped the plastic sticker in a clear zippered bag he pulled from his coat pocket and wrote some information on the outside of it. Oh, and John?

Yeah?

He held up the zippered bag. No more tests, okay?

["C23"]CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ahalf hour later, Chandler and Fiske walked through the front entrance of the United States Supreme Court. Inside, the place was large and intimidating. What really engaged Fiskes attention, though, was the quiet, so extreme as to be unsettling. It seemed to border on the hallucinatory trying to imagine a functioning world right outside the doors. Fiske thought of the last very silent place he had been today: the morgue. He said, Who are we supposed to be meeting?

Chandler pointed to a group of men walking purposefully down the hallway toward them. Them. As they drew nearer, their collective footsteps became the boom of cannon in this acoustical tunnel. One of the men wore a suit; the other two were in uniforms and carried sidearms.

Detective Chandler? The man in the suit extended his hand. Im Richard Perkins, marshal of the United States Supreme Court. Perkins was about five-nine, skinny, with the stuck-out ears of a boy, and white hair combed straight over his forehead like a frozen waterfall. He introduced his companions. Chief of Police Leo Dellasandro; his second-in-command, Ron Klaus.

Good to meet you, Chandler said, and he watched Perkins look expectantly over at Fiske. He added, John Fiske. Michael Fiskes brother.

All of them rushed to provide their condolences.

A tragedy. A mindless tragedy, Perkins said. Michael was so highly thought of. Hell be sorely missed.

Fiske managed an appreciative demeanor in the face of all this instant sympathy.

Youve locked up Michael Fiskes office, as I requested? Chandler asked. Dellasandro nodded. It was difficult, because he shared it with another clerk. Two to an office is the norm.

Lets hope we wont need to keep it off limits long.

We can meet in my office if youd like and go over your agenda, Detective Chandler, Perkins offered. Its right down the hallway.

Lets do it.

As Fiske started off with them, Perkins stopped and looked at Chandler.

Im sorry. I was assuming that Mr. Fiske was here for another reason unrelated to your investigation.

Hes helping me out with some background information on his brother, Chandler said. Perkins looked at Fiske with what Fiske gauged as unfriendly eyes.

I didnt even know Michael had a brother, said Perkins. He never mentioned you.

Thats okay, he never mentioned you either, Fiske replied. Perkinss office was right off the hallway leading to the courtroom. It was furnished in an old-fashioned colonial style, the architecture and craftsmanship from an era of government unburdened with trillion-dollar national debts and budgets awash in red. At a side table of Perkinss office sat a man in his late forties. His blond hair was cut very short, and his long narrow face carried an unshakable air of authority. His self-assured manner suggested that he enjoyed the exercise of that authority. When he rose, Fiske noted that he was well over six feet tall and looked as though he spent regular time in the gym.

Detective Chandler? The man extended one hand and with the other flashed his identification card. FBI Special Agent Warren McKenna.

Chandler looked at Perkins. I wasnt aware that the Bureau had been brought in on this.

Perkins started to say something, but McKenna said briskly, As Im sure you know, the attorney general and the FBI have the legal right to fully investigate the murder of any person employed by the United States government. However, the Bureau is not looking to take over the investigation or step on your toes.

Thats good, because even the tiniest bit of unwanted pressure and I just go nuts. Chandler smiled. McKennas expression remained unchanged. Ill try to keep that in mind.

Fiske held out his hand. John Fiske, Agent McKenna. Michael Fiske was my brother.

Im sorry, Mr. Fiske. I know it must be damn tough for you, McKenna said, shaking his hand. The FBI agent focused again on Chandler. If conditions dictate a more active role for the Bureau, then we would expect your full cooperation. Remember that the victim was a federal employee. He looked around the room. Employed by one of the most revered institutions in the world. And perhaps one of the most feared.

Fear out of ignorance, Perkins pointed out.

But feared nonetheless. After Waco, the World Trade Center and Oklahoma City, weve learned to be extra careful, McKenna said.

Too bad you people werent faster learners, Chandler said dryly. But turf battles are big wastes of time. I do believe in share and share alike, though, okay?

Of course, McKenna said. Chandler asked a half hours worth of questions, trying basically to establish if any case Michael Fiske had been working on at the Court could have led to his murder. The same answer kept coming back to him from each of the Court representatives: Impossible.

McKenna asked very few questions but listened intently to the ones asked by Chandler.

The precise details of cases pending before the Court are so well insulated from the public that there would be no way anyone could know what a specific clerk is or isnt working on. Perkins smacked the tabletop with his palm to emphasize the point.

Unless that clerk told someone.

Perkins shook his head. I personally run them through the drill on security and confidentiality as part of their orientation. The ethical rules which apply to them are very stringent. Theyre even provided with a handbook on the subject. No leaks are permitted.

Chandler looked unconvinced. Whats the average age of the clerks here? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?

Something like that.

Theyre kids, working at the highest court in the land. You telling me that its impossible that they might let something slip? Not even to impress a date?

Ive been around long enough to know better than to use the wordimpossibleto ever describe anything.

Im a homicide detective, Mr. Perkins, and believe you me, I got the same damn problem.

Could we back up to square one here? Dellasandro said. From what I know about the case, it seemed that robbery was the motive. He spread his hands and looked expectantly at Chandler. How does that involve the Court? Have you searched his apartment yet?

Not yet. Im sending a team over tomorrow.

How do we know its not something connected to his personal life? Dellasandro asked. Everyone looked at Chandler for an answer. The detective glanced down at his notes without really focusing on them. Im just covering all the bases. Going to a homicide victims place of work and asking questions is not even remotely unusual, gentlemen.

Certainly, Perkins said. You can count on our full cooperation.

Now why dont we have a look at Mr. Fiskes office, Chandler said. ["C24"]CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The man glided cat-smooth down the corridor. He was six-foot-three, lean but strongly built, with wide shoulders fanning out from a thick neck. He had a long and narrow face; the skin chestnut brown and smooth, except for deep tracings of lines at the eyes and mouth, like the whorls of a fingerprint. He wore a crumpled Virginia Tech baseball cap. A short-haired black and gray beard outlined his jaw. He was dressed in worn jeans and a faded, sweat-stained denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing off a pair of thick, veiny forearms. A pack of Pall Malls poked out of the shirts front pocket. He approached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner. As soon as he did so, the soldier sitting next to the doorway of the last room on the hall rose and held up a hand.

Sorry, sir, this area is off limits to everyone except necessary medical personnel.

My brothers in there, Joshua Harms said. And Im going to see him.

Im afraid thats impossible.

Harms eyed the soldiers name tag. Im afraid it aint, Private Brown. I visit him at the prison all the time. Now you let me in there, you hear me?

I dont think so.

Well, then Im gonna go round up the head of this hospital and the local police and the damn commandant over at Fort Jackson and tell em you refused to allow a family member to visit a dying relative. Then theyll all take turns kicking your butt on down the road, soldier boy. Did I mention I spent three years in Vietnam and got me enough medals to cover your whole damn body? Now you gonna let me in or we gonna have to go down that other street? I want your answer and I want it right this damned minute.

An unnerved Brown looked around for a minute, unsure of what to do. I need to call somebody.

No, you dont. You can search me, but Im going on in there. Wont be long. But its gonna be right now.

Whats your name?

Josh Harms. He pulled out his wallet. Heres my drivers license. I been over the prison a lot over the years, but I dont recall ever seeing you.

I dont work at the prison, he said. Im on temporary assignment here. Im in the reserves.

The reserves? Pulling guard duty on a prisoner?

The correctional facility specialists who flew in with your brother went back yesterday. Theyre bringing in some replacements tomorrow morning.

Hallelujah for them. Now, we ready to get this done?

Private Brown stared at him for another few seconds. Turn around, he said finally. Josh did so. Brown started to pat him down. Right before he reached his front pants pocket, Josh said, Dont get excited, but theres a pocketknife in there. Just pull it out and hold it for me. You hold it good and tight, son, Im right partial to that knife.

Private Brown finished the pat-down and straightened. You got ten minutes, and thats it. And Im going in with you.

You go in with me, then youre deserting your post. You desert your post in the Army or the reserves and you gonna end up where my brother is. He looked at the mans youthful features. A wannabe weekend warrior, he concluded. Probably pushed a pencil Monday through Friday before slipping on his fatigues and gun looking for adventure. And let me tell you, prison aint where somebody looks like you wants to be.

Private Brown swallowed nervously. Ten minutes.

The two men locked eyes. Thank you kindly, Josh Harms said, not meaning one word of it. He entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Rufus, he said quietly.

Didnt think you were gonna get here so quick, brother.

Josh went over to the side of the bed and stared down at him. What in the hell happened to you?

Aint sure you want to know.

Its all about that damn letter you got, aint it? Josh pulled a chair over next to the bed.

How long the guard give you?

Ten minutes, but I aint worried about him.

Ten minutes aint going to be long enough to tell you much. But Ill tell you this. I go back to Fort Jackson and theyre gonna kill me soon as I step inside.

Whos they?

Rufus shook his head. I tell you, then they gonna just come after you.

Im in here with you, aint I? That baby soldier out there is stupid, but he aint that stupid. Hes gonna put me down on the visitors roster. You know that.

Rufus swallowed with difficulty. I know, probably never shouldve got you to come on down here.

Im here now. So start talking.

Rufus thought about it for a minute. Look, Josh, that letter from the Army, when I got it, I remembered everything that happened that night. I mean everything. It was like somebody shot it right into my head.

You talking about the girl?

Rufus was already nodding. Everything. I know why I did it. And the fact is, it wasnt my fault.

His brother looked at him skeptically. Come on, now, Rufus, you did kill that little girl. No way around that.

Killing and meaning to kills two different things. Anyway, I got my lawyer from back then

You mean your piss-poor excuse for a lawyer.

You read the letter?

Sure I did. Came to my house, didnt it? Guess that was the last civilian address the Army had for you. Big, dumb carcass, didnt know it had you smack in one of its own damn prisons.

Well, I got Rider to file something for me. In court.

Whatd he file?

A letter I wrote.

Letter? Howd you get it out?

Same way you got the letter from the Army in.

Both men smiled. Rufus said, They got a printing operation inside the prison. The machinerys hot and dirty, so the guards give you a little space. Let me work my magic.

So you think the Courts gonna look at your case? I wouldnt bet my life on it, little brother.

Dont look like the Courts gonna do nothing.

Well, gee, thats a big-ass surprise.

Rufus looked past his brother at the door. When the guards coming back from the prison?

Boy said tomorrow morning.

Well, that means I got to get out of here tonight.

Woman who called me said you had some kind of heart problem. Look at you, all strapped to this crap. How far you think you can run?

How far you think I can run dead?

You really think they gonna try and kill you?

They dont want this to come out. You said you read the letter from the Army.

Yep.

Well, I was never in the program they said I was.

Josh eyed him hard. How you mean?

Just what I said. Somebody put me in the records. They wanted me to look like I was in it, to cover up what they did to me. Why I killed that little girl. In case somebody checked, I reckon they had to do it. They thought I was going to be dead.

Josh took this in slowly until the truth hit him. Jesus Lord Almighty. Why would they do that shit to you?

You asking me that? They hated me. Thought I was the biggest screw-up in the world. Wanted me dead.

If I had known all that was happening, I sure as hell wouldve come back and kicked some butt.

You were busy trying to keep the VC from tearing you up. But I go back to prison now, they gonna make sure they get me this time.

Josh looked at the door and then down at his brothers restraints.

I need your help to do this, Josh.

Youre damn right you do, Rufus.

You aint gotta help me. You can turn and walk straight out of here. I still love you. You stood by me all these years. What Im asking aint fair, I know that. You worked hard, you got yourself a good life. Id understand.

Then you dont know your brother.

Rufus slowly reached out and took his brothers hand. They gripped each other tightly, as though trying to give strength and resolve to one another for what lay ahead.

Anybody see you come in?

Nobody except the guard. I didnt exactly come in the front door.

Then I can pretend to knock you out, get out of here on my own. They know Im a crazy SOB. Kill my own brother and never think twice about it.

Bullshit. That dog just wont hunt, Rufus. You wouldnt even know where the hell to go. Theyd catch your butt in ten minutes. I worked on repairs at this hospital for almost two years, know it like the back of my hand. Way I came in is supposed to be locked, only the nurses taped over the lock. They sneak their smokes out there.

How you wanta work it, then?

We just go back out the way I came in. Its right down the hall on the left. Dont pass no nurses station or nothing. My trucks right outside the door. I got a buddy thirty minutes from here. He owes me a favor. Ill leave my truck in one of his old barns and borrow his rig for a while. He wont ask no questions and he wont answer any if the police come along. We hit the road and dont look back.

You sure you want to do this? How about your kids?

They all gone. Dont see em much.

What about Louise?

Josh looked down for a moment. Louise walked out the door five years ago and I aint seen her since.

You never told me that!

What you gonna do about it if I had?

Im sorry.

Im damn sorry about a lot of things. I aint the easiest person to live with. Cant say I blame any of them. Josh shrugged his shoulders. So its just the two of us again. Make Momma happy if she was alive.

You sure?

Dont ask me that again, Rufus.

Rufus raised his manacled hands. What about these?

His brother was already sliding something out of his boot. When he straightened back up he was holding a slender piece of metal with a slight hook at one end.

Dont tell me that boy didnt search you?

Shit, like he knew where to look. Once he took my pocketknife, he figured he had all mydangerousweapons. Didnt even bother to do my boots. Josh grinned and then inserted the metal in the lock on the restraints.

You think you can pick it?

Josh stopped and looked at his brother with contempt. If I can escape from the damn Viet Cong, I can sure as hell pick an Army-issued pair of handcuffs. *����*����* Out in the hallway, Private Brown looked at his watch. The ten minutes were up. He cracked open the door to the room. All right, Harms, times up. He pushed the door open farther. Mr. Harms? Did you hear me? Times up.

Brown heard a small groan. He drew his pistol and pushed the door all the way open. Whats going on in here?

The groaning became louder. Brown looked around for the light switch. Thats when he stumbled over something. He knelt down and touched the mans face as his vision focused.

Mr. Harms? Mr. Harms, you okay?

Josh opened his eyes. Im fine. How bout you?

Then a big hand clamped down on Browns gun and stripped it clean away. The other hand went around his mouth and he was lifted completely off the floor, one massive fist colliding with his jaw and knocking him out. Rufus put Brown in the bed, covering him with the sheet. Josh put the restraints around the unconscious soldiers arms and legs and locked them up tight. Then he used adhesive tape and gauze he found in one of the cabinets to tape his mouth shut. The last thing he did was search the soldier and retrieve his pocketknife. As Josh turned toward him, Rufus wrapped his arms around his brother and squeezed tight. Josh returned the hug, the first time the men had been able to do this in twenty-five years. His eyes moist, Rufus shook a little as Josh finally pulled away.

Now, dont get too mushy on me. We aint got no time for that.

Rufus smiled. Still feels good to hold you, Josh.

Josh put a hand on his brothers shoulder. Never thought wed get a chance to ever do that. Never gonna take that for granted again.

So what now?

You cant see where the boy was sitting from the hallway. But they got private security here. Josh checked his watch. When I was working here they made rounds every hour on the hour. Its quarter past now. Those boys are on the six-singles-an-hour plan and dont give much of a shit about guarding bedpans, but theyll probably notice hes gone at some point. You ready?

Rufus had already pulled on his prison pants and shoes. He had left off the shirt, opting for just his T-shirt instead. He had one thing clutched in his hand:the Gideon Bible. He didnt feel free yet, but he was only seconds from it. Twenty-five yearsworth of ready.

["C25"]CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Chandler looked around Michael Fiskes office. Located on the second floor of the building, it was large, with high ceilings, and half-foot-wide moldings. There were two massive wooden desks, each with a computer workstation, shelves filled with volumes of law books and case reporters, and a portable book caddy. There were wooden cabinets and stacks of files placed on the desks. The place was organized in a disorderly fashion, he concluded. Perkins looked at Chandler. There has to be someone from the Court present while you search. There are many confidential documents in here. Drafts of opinions, memos from justices and other clerks, that sort of thing, pertaining to undecided cases.

All right. We wont remove anything that may relate to pending cases.

But how can you know if it does or not?

Ill ask you.

I dont know. Im not even a lawyer.

Chandler said, Well, then get somebody down here who is, because Im going through this office.

It may not be possible today. Can it wait until tomorrow? I believe all the clerks have gone home. Chief Justice Ramsey didnt think they should work late considering what happened.

Some of the justices are still here, Richard, Klaus said. Perkins cast an unfriendly glance at Klaus, who looked over at Dellasandro. I didnt want to bring the justices into this until it was absolutely necessary. But let me see what I can do, he said. Im afraid Ill have to lock this door until I get back.

Chandler took a step closer to Perkins. Look, Richard, Im the police. Now, maybe Im wrong and you dont mean what I thought you did by that very stupid remark.

Perkinss face flushed, but he left the door unlocked, motioned to Klaus to accompany him, and they walked off. Dellasandro stayed behind, talking to McKenna. Chandler went over to Fiske. I get the feeling this has all been scripted out long before we got here.

McKenna knew your name before you were introduced.

Theyve obviously already done some digging.

Well, I guess you cant blame them.

Im gonna go over and talk to McKenna, said Chandler. Never know when we might need a favor from the Feds.

Fiske leaned back against the wall and checked his watch. He still hadnt reached his father. The door a short way down the hall from his brothers office opened and a young man came out. Fiske nodded his head. Busy place.

Are you with the police?

Fiske shook his head and extended his hand. Just an observer. Im John Fiske. Mike was my brother.

The young man went pale. Oh God, its awful. Awful. Im so sorry. He shook Fiskes hand. Im Steven Wright.

Did you know Mike well?

Not really. I just started this session. I clerk for Justice Knight. I know everyone thought the world of him.

Fiske looked at the door Wright had come out of. Is that your office? Wright nodded. I guess theres been a lot of activity at my brothers office.

You bet. People have been in and out all day.

Like Mr. Perkins, Chief Dellasandro?

And that gentleman over there.

Fiske looked to where he was pointing. Thats Agent McKenna from the FBI, Fiske said. Wright shook his head sadly. Ive never known anyone whos been . . . He stopped and looked embarrassed.

Its okay. I know what you mean. Suddenly all of Fiskes attention was trained on a pair of people walking toward him. His focus, actually, was on only one. Despite her obvious physical attractiveness, the woman looked, Fiske concluded, like the tomboy next door. Someone you could play touch football or chess with. And end up losing. Sara Evans eyed Fiske. She had seen him come into the building earlier and guessed what he was here for. She had stayed close by in case they needed one of the clerks to talk to. Thats why Perkins had found her so quickly. She stopped directly in front of Fiske, causing Perkins to abruptly do the same.

Oh, he said, John Fiske, this is Sara Evans.

Youre Michaels brother?

Let me guess, he never mentioned me, said Fiske.

As a matter of fact, he did.

They shared a firm handshake. The whites of her eyes were smudged with red, as was the tip of her nose. Her voice sounded tired. Fiske noted that she clutched a handkerchief in her other hand. He had the feeling they had met before.

Im very, very sorry about Michael, she said.

Thank you. It came as a tremendous shock. Fiske blinked. Was there something in her eyes when he said that? Something that said it wasnt all that shocking to her? Perkins looked at Wright. I didnt know you were in your office.

You might have tried knocking, Fiske suggested. Perkins cast him an unfriendly glance and walked over to Chandler and McKenna.

Hi, Sara, Wright said, a smile breaking across his face. From the way Wright was looking at her, it was obvious to Fiske that he was infatuated with the woman.

Hello, Steven. How are you holding up?

I dont think anyones gotten much work done today. Im thinking about leaving soon.

Sara looked at Fiske. Everyone thought the world of your brother. Its rocked all of us, from the chief justice on down. But it doesnt come close to equaling your loss, I know.

She said this so strangely that Fiske did a double-take. Before he could say anything, Perkins rejoined them.

All right, Detective Chandler from D.C. Homicide is waiting along with a gentleman from the FBI, Perkins said to Sara.

Why do they want to search Michaels office?

Perkinss tone was blunt. Thats none of our business.

Its part of the investigation, Ms. Evans, Fiske explained, in case theres a connection with his murder.

I thought it was a robbery.

It was a robbery, and the sooner we can convince Detective Chandler that it has nothing whatsoever to do with the Court, the better, Perkins said huffily.

Ifthat happens to be the case, Fiske said.

Of course, but itisthe case. Perkins turned to Sara. As I explained on the way down, your task is to ensure that no confidential documents are seen or taken.

Confidential meaning exactly what? she asked.

You know, anything having to do with pending court cases, opinions, memos, that sort of thing.

Shouldnt I be involved in that decision, Richard, came a new voice, or is that outside my jurisdiction?

Fiske easily recognized the man approaching them. Harold Ramsey strode toward them like a vintage ocean liner grandly pulling into harbor.

Chief, I didnt see you there, Perkins said nervously.

Obviously not. Ramsey looked at Fiske. I dont believe weve met.

Michaels brother, John Fiske, offered Sara. Ramsey held out his hand; his long, bony fingers seemed to wrap twice around Fiskes. I cannot tell you how sorry I am. Michael was a very special young man. I know that you and your family must feel his loss terribly. If theres anything we can do, please let us know.

Fiske acknowledged Ramseys sentiments, feeling like a stranger at a wake, awkwardly receiving condolences for a deceased he could not name.

I will, he said solemnly. Ramsey looked at Perkins and inclined his head toward Chandler and McKenna. Who are those men and what do they want?

Perkins explained the situation in a fairly efficient manner, although it was clear that Ramsey had already thought five steps ahead by the time Perkins finished his account.

Would you ask Detective Chandler and Agent McKenna to step over here, please, Richard?

When introductions had been made, Ramsey turned to Chandler. It seems to me that the better way of approaching the problem is to sit down with Justice Murphy and his clerks and take an oral inventory of the cases on which Michael was engaged. Understand that Im trying to balance your right to investigate this crime with the Courts responsibility to keep confidential its opinions, until such time as they become publicly known.

Okay. And I dont want anyone trying to pin any leak on me, Chandler thought to himself. Ramsey continued. I see no reason why you cant examine Michaels personal effects, if he kept any here. I only ask that any documents pertaining to the Courts work be set aside until you have had your discussion with Justice Murphy. Then, should there appear to be a connection between a case Michael was working on and his death, arrangements can be made for you to investigate any link thoroughly.

All right, Mr. Chief Justice, Chandler said. Ive actually already spoken briefly with Justice Murphy.

McKenna quickly agreed with this approach. Ramsey turned to Perkins. Richard, please advise Justice Murphy and his clerks that Detective Chandler will want to meet with them as soon as possible. Im assuming tomorrow after oral argument would do?

Thatll be fine, Chandler replied.

Ill also make available the Courts legal counsel to assist you in coordinating matters and addressing any concerns of confidentiality that may arise. Sara, youll be available tomorrow, wont you? You were close with Michael.

Fiske eyed her. How close? he wondered. Ramsey once again extended his hand to Fiske. I would also appreciate being advised of funeral arrangements.

Ramsey then turned to Perkins. Richard, after you speak with Justice Murphy, please come to my office. The meaning in his tone was clear. After Ramsey and Perkins had left, Chandler watched as McKenna looked into Michael Fiskes office again. Chief Dellasandro, Chandler said, to be as least disruptive as possible, Ill bring a team in tomorrow to search the office, so we only have to do it once.

We appreciate that, Dellasandro replied.

However, I want this door locked until I come back, Chandler continued. Nobody goes in, and that means you, or Mr. Perkins, or he looked pointedly at Agent McKenna anybody else.

McKenna glared at Chandler as Dellasandro nodded his agreement. Fiske looked around and caught Wright staring at Chandler. Wright abruptly closed his office door, and Fiske heard the lock turn. Smart man, he thought. As Fiske and Chandler were leaving the building, a voice made them stop.

Do you mind if I see you out? Sara said.

Okay with me, Chandler said. John?

Fiske shrugged noncommittally. Chandler smiled as they walked along. Why do I have the feeling we were just in the presence of the Almighty?

Sara smiled. The chief has that effect on people.

So you clerk for Justice Knight? Fiske asked.

Going on my second year.

As they rounded a corner, they almost collided with Elizabeth and Jordan Knight.

Oh, Justice Knight, we were just talking about you, Sara said. She made introductions all around.

Senator, Chandler said, we appreciate what youre doing for the District. Without the special funding you just pushed through for the police department, Id be conducting homicide investigations via bicycle.

Weve got a lot more to do, as you know. The problems were built up over a long time, and theyre going to take just as long to correct, Knight said in a political stumping tone. He looked at Fiske and his voice softened. I am sorry about your brother, John. I didnt personally know him. I dont make it up to the Court much. If I have lunch with my wife too often the media thinks Im trying to influence her decision making. I guess they forget we share the same house and bed. But please accept my heartfelt condolences to you and your family.