“But you can’t bank on that. With Judge Nash, you said you never-”
“I know I can’t bank on it, Shauna. I’ve got a ruling from that piece of shit sticking out of my ass right now. You think I don’t know that?”
“Hey, easy.” Shauna raised her hands.
“What other choice do I have, Shauna? We follow the leads and hope we come up with something that’s compelling enough that Judge Nash can’t possibly say no. I’m out of backup plans here, okay? This is the only hope we have.”
“Okay, everybody, let’s turn it down.” Lightner patted the air with his hands. “Deep breaths, everyone.”
“And what value have you added, Lightner?” I asked.
“I’m trying to find the mysterious Gin Rummy, pal. Someone not even the esteemed FBI can-”
“Some fucking hotshot P. I. you are. You couldn’t track a bleeding elephant through the snow. You couldn’t find a Jew in Israel. You couldn’t locate oil in Saudi-”
Bradley John burst into laughter. So I turned on him next.
“And what about you, Bradley? Other than having two first names and listening to Panic! at the Disco on your iPad and having Justin Bieber’s haircut? You got anything else for me, sport?”
He raised his hands and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile. “We exchanged motions in limine today,” he said.
“Great. That’s great! And remind me again what we filed, Kid Rock. A motion to have our asses kicked at trial? A motion for a mattress to be placed in the courtroom so that when the judge is finished slapping me around for discovery violations, I have a soft landing?”
Bradley ticked off his fingers. “Motion to exclude witnesses, motion-”
“I know what motions we filed, Hip-Hop. I was filing pretrial motions when you were feeling up Betty Lou in the bathroom at junior prom. Get me draft responses to the prosecution’s motions by Saturday.”
I picked up the document that Ray Rubinkowski had given me, with the handwritten scratch on the back: AN NM??
“Last I checked, you were supposed to figure out who AN and NM were.”
Bradley, who was only now losing his smirk, flipped back a page in the notebook in front of him. “There’s no lawyer at Bruce McCabe’s law firm with either set of initials, so it’s not someone Kathy Rubinkowski worked with. None of the companies listed in the answers to interrogatories Kathy was drafting have those initials. None of the companies listed on the Agriculture Department’s database have those initials. I even tried to find a staff directory for LabelTek to see if they have anyone with those initials. I’m still looking. I won’t stop.”
“Um, excuse me.” Shauna raised her hand like a polite schoolgirl. “I think what you’ve been meaning to say is that you know how hard all of us are working and you appreciate it, and you know that we share your frustration.”
I tossed the football in the air. “That’s what I meant,” I sighed. “It may have come out different.”
“A little different, yeah.”
“Okay, listen, everybody,” I said. “You all need some rest. Get some tonight. Have a nice turkey day. Clear your mind, eat a lot of food, watch football, and come back Friday bright and early and ready for the final stretch.”
Bradley and Lightner headed out, neither of them real pleased with me at the moment. Shauna came over and lightly punched my arm. “Sure you don’t want to stop by tomorrow?” she asked. “We eat at three. My parents will be happy to grill you on why I’m not married yet.”
I stretched my arms. “I’m good,” I said. “Sorry about just now.”
She waved me off. “You could use a day off, too, Counselor. Clear your head. You’re not going to be alone tomorrow, are you?”
“No, no. I’m fine.”
Shauna cast a glance at Tori. She probably figured that Tori was going to be the one keeping me company tomorrow. I couldn’t tell how Shauna felt about that. The two of them had only recently met, had hardly said more than two sentences to each other. Shauna wasn’t really the catty type, but she was protective when it came to me.
She forced a smile and said, “Have a happy Thanksgiving, Tori.”
Tori replied likewise. It wasn’t the most affectionate exchange I’d ever seen. The Alaskan tundra produced more warmth.
Then Shauna left, and it was just Tori, smirking at me from the corner.
“I’m just glad you didn’t go off on me, too,” she said.
“Don’t tempt me.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Let’s get out of here,” I said.
41
I drove Tori to her apartment. I wasn’t good company. I was off-balance. I’d never felt so out of control in my time as a lawyer. I had to climb a hill to climb another hill so I could use a telescope to locate my chances at an acquittal for Tom Stoller.
“Can I make a suggestion?” she said to me as I drove.
“Sure.”
“I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job.”
“It sounds like you’re about to.”
“Well, that’s what I mean. I can shut up if you want. If you told me how to teach differential equations to a class of grad students, I’d be annoyed. So I’d understand-”
“Tori, just tell me. Every time you’ve said something, it’s helped.”
She was quiet for a moment. I think she appreciated that comment.
“Okay,” she said. “Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re casting too wide a net?”
I pulled up to a red light and turned to her. “What do you have in mind?”
She shifted in her seat to face me. “You think there’s something dirty with this guy at Global Harvest and these other companies. And you’re finding this out late in the game, so you’re stretched thin, and you have Shauna and Bradley doing Internet searches and making phone calls and things like that to learn more about these companies. Which is fine, except wouldn’t your private investigator be better at that?”
“Sure, but he’s busy on other stuff.”
“Exactly. You have him trying to find this mysterious hit man, Gin Rummy. I’m just wondering if that’s time well spent.”
The light changed and I started driving again, but she had me thinking.
“I mean,” she went on, “what’s your best-case scenario there? Let’s say Joel can do better than the FBI and figure out who this person is. Okay, then what? You call him to the witness stand and what?”
“He denies everything,” I said. “He takes five. He refuses to talk. I see your point. He could assert the Fifth and never even take the stand.”
“What if you build a case against this guy who works at Global Harvest-Manning? Can’t you do that without trying to prove who actually pulled the trigger?”
I played it all out. I’d wanted to find Gin Rummy and put him on the stand and go after him on the similarities between the murders of Lorenzo Fowler and Kathy Rubinkowski. I was counting on my ability to tie him in knots and get something out of him-not an outright confession, of course, but enough to make the jury wonder.
But beyond my inability to even find this asshole, I also had to deal with Judge Nash, who would make me build a pretty damn strong evidentiary link before he’d let me parade witnesses before the jury who were not previously disclosed to the prosecution. The chances were good he’d never even let me put this guy on the stand.
“Jesus, you’re right, Tori,” I said. “With the amount of time I have left, that’s a much cleaner approach. Fuck Gin Rummy. I don’t need him. I show the jury that Randall Manning or Bruce McCabe or both had something to hide, then I make the case that the murder of Kathy Rubinkowski was a professional hit, not an amateurish robbery gone bad.”
“That’s all I was thinking,” she said.
“That’s all you were thinking? Then keep thinking, kid, because that’s very helpful. Really, Tori. I could kiss you.”
I picked up my cell phone and dialed Joel Lightner. “Hey,” I said, and then listened while Joel blew off some steam. “I know, I deserve that, Joel. I deserve that, too. Okay, that was a little overboard. Listen, Joel, stop with this Gin Rummy shit. Focus on Randall Manning and Bruce McCabe and that other guy, Stanley-the SK Tool and Supply guy. Keane, Stanley Keane. Look for anything you can. I mean anything. Right, I know. I know, Joel. Yeah, the bleeding elephant, that was a low blow. No, I know, and to set the record straight, I do think you could find a Jew in Israel. I’m sure of it.” I looked over at Tori and rolled my eyes. “I get it, Joel. You’ve put all this information together on Gin Rummy. Okay, so send it to me, and then move on to these other guys. We’re out of time otherwise. Full throttle on those three guys and their damn companies. So are we still sweethearts? Tell you what, when this is over, manicures and pedicures are on me. Yeah, she’s here. I’m driving her home. I’ll ask her.” I turned to Tori. “Joel wants to know if we’re going to sleep together tonight.”