the mayor, and whoever put him in that position namely, moi would pay
the price.
"Well, there's a few other details you should probably know about," I
said.
"Details? Why do I have a feeling that, coming from you, Samantha,
those details are going to be something like a pin that fell out of the
grenade?"
I told him about my secret immunity deal with Minkins.
"Did you know about this, Frist?"
"No, sir, I didn't."
I couldn't bear to look at him.
"Big surprise," Duncan said, shaking his head. "Before I lose it, let
me get this straight: You let a witness invoke on the stand, knowing
you had given him immunity, without telling the defense attorney? No,
forget about the defense attorney, without telling the judge?"
I never thought about it that way. I knew I was keeping something from
Gunderson, but I didn't owe him any information unless and until he was
a criminal defendant. I had thought about Slip at the time, but
figured I'd explain it all to him later, and he wouldn't mind under the
circumstances.
But, from a technical perspective, I had misled the court. Once a
witness has immunity, he's got no Fifth Amendment rights, so
technically Minkins should have answered all of Slip's questions. Even
if Slip didn't mind the lost opportunity, Judge Prescott wouldn't be
pleased that I used her courtroom to dupe Gunderson.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"See, that proves we've got a problem, Samantha. You're better than
that. I know you've got a tendency to go your own way, but this is
something different. I don't know if it's the new caseload, the
ex-husband, the mess that went down last month but for whatever reason,
you've lost your judgment on this one."
I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "No, I haven't, and this is no
different from what goes on around here every day. We can do whatever
we want on our cases as long as no one's paying attention, but the
minute someone raises an eyebrow, we're second-guessed at every turn.
And if you're not part of the club, you're third- and fourth-guessed.
And now it's even worse, Duncan, because you've personalized it. Maybe
I've made some mistakes, but don't suggest there's something wrong with
my motives."
"You're the one choosing to make it personal, Samantha. You need to
take emotion out of this."
If I had a dollar for every time a pissed-off man told me I
was being emotional, I wouldn't have to deal with angry men any more.
Apparently rage is only an emotion when combined with estrogen.
"I'll call Judge Prescott and take my licks, but I don't hear anyone
suggesting what I should have done as an alternative. If Gunderson was
involved in Clarissa's death, telling him that Minkins flipped wouldn't
just jeopardize our investigation, it would've put our informant at
risk."
Duncan was no longer in the mood to argue. He didn't need to; he was
the boss. "I'll give some thought to all this, Samantha but right now
we both need to cool our heels. Until you hear further: Russ, you
handle anything having to do with Clarissa Easterbrook. And call
Prescott. It's better she hear about this from you as the MCU
supervisor."
I had expected Duncan to kick me off the case. Maybe it was even the
right thing to do, given some of the calls I'd made. But having Frist
apologize to a judge for something I'd done? I started to interrupt,
but Duncan signalled for me to keep quiet.
"No, Samantha, I'm not risking it. If you're not apologetic enough,
she's just going to pick up the phone and complain to me. If you're
lucky, she'll figure you're in enough trouble at home not to report you
to the bar."
I shook my head.
"I know what you're thinking. If you want to resign, that's up to you.
Alternatively, you could turn your attention and your talent to the
many other cases assigned to you. Your decision."
All the earlier huffing and puffing aside, it had come down to this the
ultimate trump card. Unfortunately, Duncan had seen me in action
enough these past weeks to know that, when push came to shove, I'd
rather put up with the crap I take here than fight over corporate money
with attorneys like Roger and Jim Thorpe. Maybe Grace would give me a
job sweeping up hair at Lockworks.
"I'll let you know." Then I walked out of his office, leaving him
there with Melvin Jackson's new prosecutor.
I had hoped to be out of the building before Russ made it up to the
eighth floor, but he managed to catch me while I was still getting my
things together. One more reason not to keep such a messy office.
"Don't worry about the call to Prescott," he said. "I won't make you
look like a jerk."
"I think Duncan already took care of that," I said, throwing my pumps
in my gym bag. One of them didn't quite make it in and hit Frist in
the leg.
"Easy now. For what it's worth, it would've been a lot worse if Duncan
didn't actually like you."
"If you didn't notice, I just got kicked off my first murder trial," I
said, pulling the pictures of Vinnie and my family from my cork board
and tucking them safely away in my briefcase, just in case.
"Yes, but you walked out with your job and the case on track, and with
very minimal ass-kissing. I know you'd rather hang on to it, but I
won't bungle it."
"Better not," I said, laughing, while I pulled my rain slicker on.
"You're obviously going somewhere, but before you leave, why don't you
let me in on the parts you edited out for Duncan."
I did my best to look confused.
"Cut the shit, Samantha. I can tell you're leaving something out. If
you need me to go into cross-examination mode, I'll point out that you
told Duncan there were some details you left out. As in plural. And
you clearly had more to say to me before we got pulled into Duncan's,
but I don't think it was the secret immunity deal, because you
obviously didn't realize it was going to be so explosive. So spill it:
What were you saving up for last?"
What the hell. He'd stuck by me so far.
"Earlier, I thought it was a big deal, but now that you've convinced me
I had my head up my ass" he laughed too "anyway, it's probably nothing,
but the safe deposit box that had the videotape and the Gunderson
file?"
He nodded.
"Well, the one other item in the box was a password-protected floppy
disc containing the budget information for Townsend's new hospital
wing."
"And how does that fit in with everything we just talked about
downstairs?"
"It doesn't. If you're right, it just so happens that Clarissa stored