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It became way too personal with him. They may not realize you've got some tough innards beneath that pretty packaging.
And some powerful reinforcements covering your tail. I didn't question Mercer's warning. In the last year alone, the Dominican gang leader had ordered the unsuccessful hit of a federal judge who had presided over a drug case that sent three of his lieutenants to jail and intimidated scores of witnesses from appearing in a handful of related grand jury investigations. Severe thunderstorms. I don't think she'll land before ten tonight, but I'll pick her up and take her to the hotel.
Kerry Hastings was a twenty-two-year-old graduate student when Floyd Warren broke into her Greenwich Village apartment and raped her. The trial had been another assault-on her truthfulness, on her integrity, on her spirit-and when the jury failed to agree on a verdict, she retreated from her once pleasant life even further.
Mercer was one of the few people who had engendered her trust, from the time of his first phone call, astounding her with the news that she might achieve some measure of justice after all these years. I want to go over her testimony once more. Who could imagine that this case would be easier for me to try now than it was for my predecessor thirty-five years ago? Easier for Kerry, too. I stood up, fanning myself with the manila folder that held Pablo Posano's posttrial motions and his inmate number at the maximum security prison where he was serving time.
You want to call Attica for me? See if we can get a list of Posano's visitors and his phone log? The corridors emptied out earlier than usual during the hot summer days. There were fewer trials as lawyers, judges, and witnesses escaped the city on vacation. Government workers were allowed to leave their offices on afternoons when temperatures, threatening to overload the electrical power grids, climbed above ninety-five degrees.
It was six fifteen and the executive wing of the trial division was quiet.
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I pushed open the door and saw Mike sitting across the conference table from a young woman who was talking to him. A handful of snapshots were spread out in front of her, and Mike was studying two of them as she spoke.
The most obvious thing about her when she looked up was the redness and swelling around her eyes. I wasn't surprised. It was rare for me to meet someone for the first time, professionally, who had much to smile about.
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The one about the body. Mike handed me a story-three short paragraphs-buried deep in the back of the news section of the tabloid. The naked remains of an unidentified woman were found yesterday evening in the abandoned offices above the aging ferry slip…". Standing in front of the morgue's viewing window was one of the most painful steps a family member was forced to endure in the course of an investigation. Nothing could prepare Janet for the condition of the face and body she was about to see.
Janet blotted her eyes and looked down at the photographs, handing me one. I studied the image. The resemblance to Janet was striking.
Long, narrow faces, lightly freckled skin, and thin, tapered noses. Everything was consistent with the shape and size of the woman we had seen last night. But we had this deal that we always went out together on our birthdays," she said. She just turned thirty-two. Magorski were right. Janet straightened up. I think it was right after the holidays. I had gone home-to Idaho-to see the family.
I called her when I got back. I wanted to know what would lead this woman to the conclusion that her sister had been the victim of a murder, rather than that she simply chose to celebrate the event with someone else. She moved to New York about nine years ago, after college. Worked for a temp agency. Wound up doing word processing at a law firm.
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That's where she's been for the last five years. Masters and Martin. It's not taking any more messages. And her cell phone is shut off. I called the super.
He hasn't seen her since last week. People didn't like the company she kept. If Janet can-well, if she's able to make an ID," Mike said, "we'll go straight there. Janet shook her head. Left a few messages then that she didn't return. We go to the same place every year. I just assumed she'd show up. I glanced at a photo of the two sisters together, both smiling for the camera. Behind them was the mirrored wall of a bar, lined with bottles of booze. The Brazen Head had been in business for more than twenty years, a magnet for prep school kids from the Upper East Side because of the affable owner's willingness to turn a blind eye to underage drinkers.
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It was named for the oldest pub in Dublin, which dated back-according to legend-eight hundred years. Janet looked at me sideways before she answered. Jim didn't want to talk about it there. One of his sons was tending bar. I'm afraid this stuff might end up in the newspapers. I just want to protect her if I can.
Cooper," Janet said, blowing her nose again. It broke my heart to think of what she was doing. Mike lifted his blazer from the back of the chair, slipped his finger under the collar, and draped it over his shoulder as he stepped behind me. An escort, a prostitute, a whore, a hooker. Iwalked Janet Bristol to the rest room to wash her face, then returned to wait for her in my office. You've got to give me a hand tonight," Mike said.
I just look at that beauty mark on the side of this broad's neck and picture the one in the identical place on her sister. A patch of skin untouched by the bugs. We got hold of Amber's dentist an hour ago-she had sent Janet to him for an abscess last year. He's faxing over her records to Dr. Good morning, Idaho. This is your wake-up call. Lawyers, businessmen, politicians. The courtroom circus created by Floyd Warren's defense attorney had prolonged the proceedings for two weeks back in the seventies.
Now, the powerful addition of DNA to the prosecution case would change the focus-and pace-radically. Cooper, Floyd Warren will be one more notch on your belt and you'll be looking for something to take your mind off the much more important fact that you've got no social life. I can fill all those empty hours for you, kid," Mike added. Mercer knew why Mike wanted my company. Mercer and I spent countless hours handholding survivors of violence who needed emotional support to get through the unfamiliar clinical steps that marked their introduction to the criminal justice system.
It took as much time, sometimes more, than working the investigation. Mike was impatient in that role. He was at his best when he set himself up against an unknown predator, teasing secrets from the dead to offer up cold, hard evidence that would lead him to the suspect.