"Jesus," Stamm said finally.
"I know how you feel, Jack. It's ridiculous. I don't believe it for a minute. But we have to deal with the possibility. Abbie has a motive, she has no alibi for the time the bomb was attached to Griffen's car, she knows how to make the bomb. Paul says he walked her through it step by step when they prepared his direct examination at Deems's trial."
"This is total bullshit," Stamm said angrily. He threw the mangled paper clip into his wastepaper basket. "Nick, you know Abbie. Can you see her killing anyone?"
"No. And that's the biggest reason why I'm not gonna continue on this investigation. I know Abbie too well to be objective.
You have to get out, too."
Stamm walked back to his desk and slumped in his chair.
"You're right. I might even be a witness. I'll have to get a special prosecutor from the Attorney General's office. Shit. This is impossible."
"I think you should call the AG right now and set up a meeting.
Stamm was furious. He knew Abbie did not murder her husband. If anyone did, it wasCharlie Deems. But even the possibility that one of his deputies was guilty made it imperative that his office turn over the investigation and prosecution to another agency.
The intercom buzzed. "Mr. Stamm," Jack's secretary said, "I know you don't want to be disturbed, but Charlie Deems is here.
He says he wants to see you."
"Charlie Deems?"
"At the front counter. He said it was important."
"Okay. Tell him I'll be right out."
Stamm looked across the desk at Nick Paladino. The detective seemed as surprised as the district attorney.
"What the fuck is going on, Nick?"
"I don't have a clue, Jack."
"You don't think he's turning himself in?"
"Charlie Deems? Not a chance."
Stamm put on his jacket and straightened his tie. His office was only a few steps from the reception area. When he stepped into the narrow hall that led to it, he saw Deems sitting in one of the molded plastic chairs reading Sports Illustrated. "Mr. Deems, I'm Jack Stamm."
Deems looked up from the magazine, grinned and walked over to the low gate that separated the reception area from the rest of the office.
"I hear you've been looking for me," Deems said.
"Yes, sir. We have."
"Here I am."
"Would you like to step into my office?"
"Okay," Deems answered agreeably.
Stamm led Deems past his secretary and into his office.
"You know Nick Paladino."
"Sure. He arrested me, but I don't have any hard feelings.
Especially since we'll be working together."
"Oh?" Stamm said.
"Yeah. I'm turning over a new leaf. I want to work for the forces of justice."
"What brought about this miraculous conversion, Charlie?"
Paladino asked sarcastically.
"While you're sitting on death row you have plenty of time to think about life. You know, life, what does it all mean. I don't want to waste mine anymore. I'm a new man."
"That's very nice, Charlie. Is that why you came here? To tell us about your change of heart?" Paladino asked.
"Hey, I know how busy you guys are. If all I wanted to do was to tell you I turned over a new leaf, I'd have dropped you a letter.
No, I'm here to help you catch criminals."
"Anyone in particular?" Stamm asked.
"Oh, yeah. Some people I'm gonna enjoy sending to prison for a long, long time."
"And who might they be?"
"How about Raoul Otero? I know everything about his operation: how he brings the stuff into the country, where they cut it and who's working for him. Interested?"
"I might be."
"'Might be,'" he repeated. Then Deems chuckled. "Mr. Stamm, right now you're creaming in your pants, but it's okay to play it cool. I respect you for that. Hell, if you acted real excited it would just encourage me to boost the price I'm gonna ask for the information."
"And what is your price?" Paladino asked.
Deems turned slowly toward the detective. "I'm glad you asked. First, I'm gonna need protection. Raoul isn't the forgive-and-forget type."
"Get to the good part, Charlie," Paladino said.
"Naturally, I'd appreciate some remuneration."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Hey, if I'm working for you I can't be working for me. Let's not quibble over money. I'm risking my life here."
"I'll check to see about the money. But you're going to have to prove you can deliver."
"That's fair. Oh, and there's something else to sweeten the pot."
"What's that?" Jack Stamm asked.
"Not what, who."
"Who, then?"
Deems grinned broadly. He paused to savor the moment.
Then he asked Stamm and Paladino, "How would you like to know who iced Supreme Court Justice Robert Griffen?"
"All work and no play makes Tracy a dull girl," Barry Frame said from the doorway of the office law library.
"Don't I know it," Tracy said, looking up from the case she was reading.
Barry sat down next to Tracy at the long polished oak conference table that took up the center of the room. Around them were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with Oregon and federal statutes and cases.
"It's after eight, you know."
Tracy looked at her watch.
"And I bet you haven't eaten dinner."
"You win."
"How about some That food?"
"I don't know . . ." Tracy stared at the stack of law books in front of her.
Frame smiled and shook his head. "He's really got you going, doesn't he?"
"No it's just "
"I bet he gave you his 'If you work for me, you won't sleep right, you won't eat right' speech."
Tracy's mouth opened in astonishment, then she grinned sheepishly.
"He gives that speech to all the new associates and everybody falls for it. He even had me going for a while, but I wised up. Just because Matt practices what he preaches, that doesn't mean you have to become a machine. Whatever you're working on can wait until tomorrow. You won't be able to write your memo if you die of malnutrition."
"I guess I am a little hungry."
"So?"
"So take me to this That place. But we go Dutch."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
Outside, the night air was warm, but not oppressive. Tracy stretched and looked up at the sky. There was a quarter moon and a sprinkling of stars. In the hills that towered over downtown Portland, the house lights looked like giant fireflies.
"Is the restaurant close enough to walk? I need the exercise."
"It's about seven blocks. No sweat for someone who placed in the NCAA cross-country championships."
"How did you know that?"
"Matt has me read the resums he receives."
"Oh. Did you read the one I sent about six months ago?"
"Yup."
"Why didn't I get an interview?"
"You're a broad," Frame joked. "For what it's worth, I told him he was a jerk for ignoring you, but the Sorcerer's got no use for women. I couldn't believe it when he hired you. Justice Forbes must have made some pitch."
"Why did you call Mr. Reynolds the Sorcerer?"
"Three years ago, Matt won that acquittal at Marcus Herrera's retrial.
Time did a cover story and called him the Sorcerer because everyone was saying that only a magician could save Herrera. He hated it."
"I think it's romantic."
"It's also accurate. There are a lot of people who owe their lives to Matt's ' " magic.
"Why do you think he's so successful?"
"It's simple. Matthew Reynolds is smarter than anyone he's ever faced."
Tracy thought about that for a moment. Matthew Reynolds was smart, but there were a lot of smart lawyers. If someone had asked her the question she had just posed to Barry, Tracy would have emphasized the hours Reynolds devoted to his cases. She had never met anyone who worked harder at any job.