"Possibly. And we know that Reheema didn't know Jackson or Browning."
"Wrong. You don't know that at all."
"I do know it. I believe Reheema."
"Why?" Dan asked in disbelief.
"Because she convinced me, and so did that stuff I saw about her on her bulletin board. And the fact that she didn't know Jackson was corroborated by her boss."
"Jackson testified they were best friends."
"People lie under oath," Vicki said, because Reheema had taught her such things.
"And as between Jackson and Reheema, you believe Reheema, a known felon? Just because she ran track?"
"It's just a feeling I have about her. Reheema's different. And she's not a felon, because she wasn't convicted." Vicki sounded idiotic even to herself, and Dan's mouth dropped open.
"She pulled a gun on you, Vick!"
"She thought I was trespassing."
"So? If you thought somebody was trespassing, would you pull a gun on them? Would you even have a gun to pull? Or would you run out and call the cops?"
Vicki gathered it was rhetorical.
"Of course not. But just as it's second nature to you to call the cops, it's second nature to Reheema not to. Her experience of the cops is completely different from yours. For you, the cops are saviors. For her, they're enemies. You're the enemy." Dan nodded. "This is where Episcopal Academy comes in."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Vick, you're a rookie in this subculture, for want of a better word. You come to it with new eyes, and it's kind of exciting."
"It wasn't exciting, what happened to Morty."
"That's not what I meant and you know it." Dan flushed red, and Vicki regretted her words.
"Sorry."
"What I meant was the whole gangsta thing. The jewelry, the coke, the nicknames."
"I'm not new to it. I saw it at the D.A.'s office."
"Not this. Not with stakes this high. If these boys get caught, they go away for life. The boys who play that, they're a different breed. They're what the NBA is to high school ball. They like the big money-tens of millions of dollars-and they kill for it."
"I know all that," Vicki said irritably, but Dan leaned forward, intent.
"No, you don't. You bring this Main Line thing to it. You believe Reheema when she tells you, ‘No, I didn't resell the guns, I gave them to my mommy.' ‘No, I don't know Jackson.' You believe her because you tell the truth and you project that onto her. You believe her because you were raised in a world where people told the truth."
Obviously, he'd never eaten dinner at the Allegrettis'.
"No offense, but you're completely naïve. You can't believe her. You can't believe any of them. They lie to you all the time. Lying is a way of life for them, especially lying to you, an AUSA."
Vicki didn't like this new side of Dan. "You sound racist. Everything's ‘them' and ‘they.' "
"It's got nothing to do with race. I know these people, the mentality."
"What people?"
"People like my father."
It took Vicki aback. He never talked about his father. "How do you mean?"
"A liar, a cheat. A bad boy who grew up not knowing how to make a dime, so he learned how to steal it. Scam for it. Smile for it. The guy could charm the pants off you and you'd never know they were gone until you looked down." Dan shook his head. "How can I make you understand? My dad grew up in a poor neighborhood, just like your dad did. Some kids become straight arrows, like your dad. Go to school, make A's, graduate. Others shuck and jive and look for the angles. The quick buck. They want to be a big shot. My dad's as white as Irish lace, but he's gangsta to the core."
Vicki felt moved by his vehemence but she couldn't see it pertaining to Reheema. "I hear you, and I appreciate what you're saying. But keep an open mind. There's a person in there, even in the baddest gangsta. Even your dad."
"Not in my dad." Dan smiled, without mirth, and Vicki got back on track.
"Let's assume Reheema is telling the truth. Look at the facts. There's something we're missing. Maybe Reheema doesn't know Shayla Jackson, but Shayla Jackson knows her."
"How is that possible?"
"You can know someone who doesn't know you." Vicki was thinking aloud, a bad thing to do in front of a boss but a good thing to do in front of scrambled eggs. "You see them around, and someone tells you who they are. You know them but they don't know you."
"Okay, right. So?"
"So assume that Shayla and Jamal are boyfriend and girlfriend, and Shayla visits him at Cater Street."
Dan arched an eyebrow. "How do you know Jamal goes to Cater Street? At his level, odds are he doesn't go to Cater Street ever, and the runner in the Eagles coat delivers the crack to the store."
"Okay, well, let's say once he does. Once, in the beginning, like when he's scouting locations or doing whatever drug dealers do before they open a store."
"Usually, they hang the sign-Grand Opening."
"Right, the sign and the lights." Vicki was too preoccupied to smile. "Or he drives by and he sees Reheema at Cater Street and she's with her mother."
"Not Saint Reheema. People don't buy crack with their mothers unless they use, too."
"Okay, let's say that Jamal drives by the neighborhood with one of his underlings and he sees Reheema in front of her mom's house, and he says to his pal, ‘Who's that girl?' " Vicki could imagine the scene. "And the friend says, ‘That's Reheema Bristow, and her mom buys from us.' And Shayla's in the car at the time." Vicki considered it and decided that she was right, yet again. "It's possible, isn't it?"
"It's not likely."
"But it's possible."
"Yes."
Yay! "Then maybe it happened." Vicki felt excited, but Dan looked dubious.
"So why would Shayla Jackson frame someone she saw on the street, a total stranger, on a straw charge?"
"I can think of one reason, but you won't guess it because you never met Reheema."
"Why?"
"She's gorgeous. She's stunning. She's like Beyonce, only cranky."
"You mean the gun."
"Exactly."
Dan laughed. "So?"
"If my boyfriend were showing an interest in her, or even asking who she was, I'd be worried." Vicki felt thunderstruck; it made so much sense. Maybe she had actually deserved to get into Harvard. Or maybe she just knew a lot about jealousy. "If I were in love with someone, but he had his eye on someone else or started to stray from me, I'd hate her. I'd want her gone."
"You're vicious." Dan was oblivious, even for a man.
"A straw charge is perfect, and Shayla would guess correctly that Reheema wouldn't dime on her own mother."
Dan was listening now, cocking his head.
"If Jamal started showing an interest in Reheema"-Vicki flashed on the bills on Shayla's dresser-"that would threaten Shayla's support."
"Not bad, but Reheema told you she didn't know Jamal. Is she a liar?"
"No, let's say she didn't know him, but he knew her, like with Shayla. He doesn't approach her, or even hit on her. Maybe he jokes about it or asks his friend about Reheema and Shayla finds out."
"That would be a very jealous woman."
"They exist." Look across the table, pal. "And we know that Shayla and Jamal did break up, because she was forwarding bills to him. If she were still seeing him, she'd just give them to him." Vicki felt excited. It was coming together, or at least part of it. "Shayla would know about the guns, because if Mrs. Bris-tow traded them for crack, they might find their way to Jamal. Or at least he'd know about them. If Shayla knew the guns had been bought by Reheema, she'd know enough to set her up for a straw charge. All it takes is a call."
"Not bad." Dan reached for his mug, which was empty.
"More coffee? I'm getting some." Vicki started to get up but Dan waved her down.
"Don't, you're caffeinated enough."
Vicki smiled. "So what do you think? Am I a genius or not?"
"You're a genius." Dan was nodding. "I think it's all very interesting."