Cover-up (18 page)

S
usan Charlton was on the telephone. As Melanie dropped heavily into a guest chair, fatigue overwhelming her, Susan met her eyes and held up an index finger.

Baseball caps from every agency in law enforcement bristled from all four walls of Susan’s office. The entire alphabet soup of the federal justice system—FBI, DEA, ATF, ICE, IRS, NYPD, hanging from nails in neat rows. There must’ve been a hundred hats. Agents who didn’t know Susan called her “Miss Alternative Lifestyle” behind her back, but any guy who’d ever worked a case with her eventually brought his offering and vied to have it placed in a spot of honor on her wall.

Susan’s freckled face was so vivid pink with exertion that it clashed
with her flaming carrot hair, which clashed with the red Stanford Law baseball cap she wore. Susan was captain of the U.S. Attorney’s Office coed softball team. The fact that she was in shorts and her uniform T-shirt reminded Melanie that today had been the grudge rematch against their big rivals, the U.S. Marshals Service.

Melanie wondered why her own life didn’t leave room for something as sane as playing on the office softball team. Susan had no children. She and her partner, Lisa Friedman, an antipoverty lawyer, had been talking about adopting for ages but hadn’t done anything concrete about it. Yet Melanie suspected that even if Susan were a mom, she’d find time to win her trials, play sports, volunteer at her church, and hit the pub after work to gather intelligence from the cops. Susan was simultaneously well adjusted and crazy, cutthroat competitive and widely liked. If Melanie had to name one quality that equipped Susan for all her success, she would’ve chosen this: Susan had no angst. She didn’t worry. And she never, ever second-guessed herself once she’d made a decision. Unfortunately, these were the ways in which she differed most from Melanie.

Susan hung up and looked at her.

“D’you win?” Melanie asked.

“Whupped their bee-hinds, girl,” Susan exulted, taking a swig from a bottle of Poland Spring water on her desk and smiling broadly. “It was a beautiful thing. They’re so friggin’ full of themselves.”

“Score?”

“Six–three. A clear victory. Watch, none of my prisoners’ll get transported to court next week, but I don’t care. We’re celebrating at Grady’s tonight if…oh, but what am I saying? You’re too busy.”

“I listened to your message. What’s up?” Melanie asked.

“I got a call from the front office,” Susan said, referring to the big walnut-paneled suite that housed the U.S. attorney and his first assistant.

“That can’t be good,” Melanie said.

“They’re concerned about the press activity in your case. Are you aware that Target News is doing twenty-four/seven live coverage on the Butcher?”

“I heard they were making a stink. That’s their style,” Melanie said.

“With all that dead air to fill, they’re spouting a lot of dreck, as you can imagine, and some of it upset the higher-ups. Take a look.”

Susan picked up a remote and clicked, and a television sitting on a wheeled cart beside her desk sprang to life. She rewound to an image of Lorraine Shepard clad in the exquisite black Chanel jacket and pearls she’d been wearing this morning, standing outside the Frank E. Campbell Funeral Home.

“I loved her with all my heart,” Lorraine said as tears welled picturesquely in her big blue eyes. “My only daughter. And to think that cronyism is standing in the way of arresting her killer. The people of this city should demand answers. It was my daughter this time, but that animal is out there. Next time it could be yours.”

“Lorraine Shepard gets her fifteen minutes of fame,” Melanie said with disgust. “This woman has a habit of second-guessing investigations.”

“Good to know. But keep watching,” Susan said.

The camera cut to file footage of Clyde Williams walking down the steps of City Hall, flashing his toothsome smile as he waved to a crowd of well-wishers.

“Allegations of cronyism and special treatment swirl around this man,” the correspondent’s resonant, Australian-accented voice said, “City Councilman Clyde Williams, the subject of a scathing exposé aired on
High Crimes
just last week by the brave and relentless and now very
dead
Ms. Shepard. Williams is currently the front-runner for the Democratic mayoral nomination, but his prospects have been seriously undermined by allegations first reported by Target News that he had an affair with this woman”—the image changed to a high-
school-yearbook photo of a pretty blond girl—“gorgeous,
young
Emily King, intern in Williams’s office, a mere twenty years old, sophomore at Princeton University and daughter of a wealthy Connecticut footwear magnate.”

“Footwear magnate. I love that,” Susan said, chuckling. She’d been leaning back with her feet up on her desk, but now she sat forward and paused the video. “Okay, it’s this next part that has the front office, well, concerned. Listen and tell me what you think,” she said, pushing play again.

“Despite questions about the obvious motive Williams or his supporters might have had to harm Suzanne Shepard,” the voice-over continued, “no action has been taken against him in the days since the brutal crime was committed. Target News has uncovered an alarming explanation for this otherwise unthinkable oversight in the person of Williams’s son”—here the screen flashed to footage of Clyde and Joe shaking hands side by side on a receiving line, both in tuxedos, looking a lot alike—“Joseph Franklin Williams, a prosecutor in the very same office as Melanie Vargas”—and here, footage from Melanie’s press conference—“the young, inexperienced prosecutor handling the Shepard murder investigation.”

“Inexperienced!” Melanie exclaimed.

“Shh,” Susan said, holding up one hand and pointing at the screen with the other.

“Target News has learned that Vargas is not only acquainted with but in fact good mates with the younger Williams, and on close personal terms with both Clyde Williams and his wife, Cherise, because of that relationship,” the voice-over continued. The screen faded in to focus on a big blond man with a chiseled face standing outside the building in which Melanie and Susan now sat.

“With the Butcher of Central Park still at large, what do the parties involved have to
say
about this disturbing conflict of interest? Can it be possible that one of our brightest politicians has knowledge of,
or even involvement in, one of our most
horrific
crimes? Councilman Williams plans to address the allegations at a press conference later tonight, which we will bring to you live. The U.S. Attorney’s Office, for the moment, remains
suspiciously
silent. Duncan Gilmartin, Target News, outside the U.S. Attorney’s Office, waiting for some answers. Cassandra, back to you in the studio.”

Susan clicked and the screen went blank.

“I can tell you exactly why they’re doing this,” Melanie insisted. “Seth Parker, the producer at Target News, wanted me to embed this guy Gilmartin with the investigative team, and I refused.”

“Embed, like in Iraq?”

“Yes.”

“That’s a new one. We don’t do that.”

“That’s what I told him. Now he’s punishing me for turning them down. And obviously, they’re looking for a ratings bounce.”

“I believe you, but that doesn’t change the fact that the front office is upset. Nobody told them this Williams thing was out there, and they don’t like surprises.”

“Bernadette was in the loop. I went to her earlier today and asked her to speed up the paperwork at Main Justice so we could go after Clyde and address the allegations of favoritism. I specifically told her that the NYPD was upset with the press coverage. Shouldn’t she have been the one to say something to the front office? It’s hardly like I play racquetball with the U.S. attorney every morning.”

Susan looked thoughtful. “Hmm, there’s an angle. You know Witchie-poo’s on their shit list, right?”

“Seriously?”

“Why do you think she’s so keen to get out of here?”

“I thought she was itching to get on the bench,” Melanie said.

“She’s itching to jump before she gets pushed. Bernadette’s turf battles have come back to bite her. Turns out her enemies are better connected in the front office than she is. If we hand them Witchie-
poo on a platter, we could save your butt on this one, Mel. Being Bernadette’s good German isn’t necessarily a smart strategy for you right now in any event.”

“I’m not her good German,” Melanie said, her cheeks burning. “I don’t follow her blindly. But she is my boss, and I respect chain of command.”

“I’m just saying it’s time for you to raise your profile with the higher-ups. You know, look independent, differentiate yourself from Bernadette. Letting them know she was the one who dropped the ball on this Williams thing would go a long way toward achieving that.”

“I’m not selling her out.”

“I admire your loyalty, but get real. If Bernadette lets you take the fall, isn’t she selling
you
out?”

“What kind of fall are we talking about here?” Melanie asked.

“For starters, after the higher-ups saw this”—Susan gestured at the TV—“they wanted to pull you off the Shepard case.”

Melanie was stricken, and it showed on her face.

“I talked them out of it,” Susan said. “I bought you some time to do damage control. At least a day.”

“A day?”

“Hey, it’s better than nothing. A lot can happen in a day on an investigation like this. Who knows, you could have the Butcher locked up by tomorrow.”

“Susan, this is really stupid. The Clyde Williams thing is a distraction manufactured by the media. He didn’t kill anybody.”

“People can surprise you,” Susan said with a shrug. “But Clyde’s guilt or innocence isn’t the point. The front office knows Target News is a bunch of tabloid crap. The content of the story didn’t upset them as much as the fact that they got blindsided. They need controversy fronted to them ahead of time, before they see it live at six.”

“I understand.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page. Here’s the plan. I go to them with the Bernadette explanation, then we—”

“No. I’m not down with that.”

“I don’t know why you’re so devoted to her,” Susan said, exasperated. “She’d feed you to the lions in a heartbeat if it suited her purpose.”

“Maybe you’re right, but Bernadette’s done a lot for me. Besides, she’s getting married tomorrow.”

“Yeah, poor Vito.”

Melanie and Susan looked at each other, at an impasse.

“May I speak frankly?” Susan asked finally.

“Of course.”

“I have an ulterior motive here that you should know about. I plan to be chief of this unit once Bernadette’s gone, which may be sooner than anybody expects. And I want you as my deputy. That ain’t gonna happen if we don’t fix this little dustup.”

“I’m flattered. But why would you want me for deputy instead of Brad Monahan? You guys are such good friends.”

“I love the Bradalator, but I don’t trust him to watch my back. He’d be too busy scheming to get my job.
You,
on the other hand, would be an awesome deputy, and as you’ve just demonstrated, you’d be loyal to a fault. So what do you say?”

“I’m still not tattling on Bernadette.”

“I’ll try my best to find a way around it, scout’s honor, but you’ve got to give me some latitude to work here. There’s something else you need to focus on if you want to redeem yourself with the front office.”

“What’s that?”

“Like the man said, Clyde Williams is holding a news conference tonight after his big fund-raiser. On the steps of the Met, surrounded by his glitterati contributors no less. You need to find out what he’s going to say, so we’re not caught off guard again.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You could try asking him.”

“He threw me out my ear just a few hours ago.”

“I trust you to overcome whatever hard feelings might exist and get Clyde to spill his guts.”

“What about the ethical implications? Clyde is a suspect. How can I beg him for a favor like that?”

“In this job, we work for the greater good. We’re public servants, not blind technocrats. You do what needs to be done in the big picture, regardless of what the fine print says. Are we in agreement?”

Melanie shook her head, marveling. “You’re a force of nature, Susan.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment,” Susan said with a laugh, “but I’ll take it as a yes.”

23

A
s Melanie walked down the hall
toward her office, anxiety took hold of her. She could handle running a huge case with a thousand scattered leads. And she could handle having a sicko creep Web-stalking her. But the office politics really threw her for a loop. Susan could say what she wanted about fixing this dustup, but with the front office breathing down Melanie’s neck, she was starting to worry about getting fired.

She opened the door to find Dan seated behind her desk, talking on her telephone. Their eyes met, and he smiled. God, that smile, those eyes. Suddenly she was back in one of the most intense moments of her life—the first time she’d ever seen him, when she’d returned to her office just like now and discovered a gorgeous stranger sitting in her chair. Her marriage had been on the verge of collapse, and she’d seen the echo of her own need in Dan’s eyes. In that very instant, Melanie fell hard, even though she had every reason not to.

She watched him for a moment. Then, seemingly of its own accord, her hand reached out, closed the door, and turned the lock.

“Yeah, she just walked in,” Dan said, holding her gaze as he spoke.

He’d noticed that Melanie had locked the door. He raised an eyebrow at her and she raised one right back, provocatively. She had no idea what had come over her, but whatever it was seemed to have a will of its own, and she was in no mood to argue with it.

Dan was staring at her. “Uh, Julian, can you hold off on giving me that report on Ortiz? I have to take care of something over here first…Okay, okay, if it’s that important. Go ahead.”

Dan pointed at the phone and shrugged helplessly. Melanie walked around behind the desk and sank her fingers into his thick dark hair, pulling his head back. He shook his head no, but she leaned down and kissed him anyway, slowly and lingeringly, in careful silence, until she got a reaction. Within seconds, they were licking and biting and breathing hard. She straddled him on the chair, and he tucked the phone against his neck and ran his hands up under her skirt, making her shiver. She loved the way he tasted, the clean way his skin smelled. So many things in her life were insane right now, but Dan made her feel good.