"So, what's this really about?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you, not yet. But I'd appreciate it very much if you'd take it on faith that Jon Dupre may benefit from my investigation."
Amanda thought about that for a moment. "Ask your questions."
"Tell me about the kidnapping."
Amanda took a deep breath. Her kidnapper was dead but her emotions hadn't fully accepted that yet.
"I was captured in my parking garage a few days ago. The man in the basement and the two dead men in the living room took me out in the woods. They threatened to . . . to do things to me."
Amanda stopped, unable to repeat Castillo's threats.
"Do you know why you were kidnapped?"
Amanda nodded. "They wanted me to throw the cases against Jon Dupre."
"From what I've heard, they're easy cases to win. Why would Pedro Aragon have to fix them?"
Amanda hesitated. There were policemen, a senator, lawyers, and judges in The Vaughn Street Glee Club. Why not an FBI agent? Amanda closed her eyes. She didn't care anymore. After what had happened this evening, she decided that her best defense was to make what she knew about the club public. Keeping quiet had almost gotten her father killed.
"Despite the way things look, Jon Dupre may be innocent of both murders," Amanda said. "I'm certain that Wendell Hayes was sent to the jail to murder Jon and that he, not Jon, smuggled the shiv into the visiting room."
Amanda watched for Hunter's reaction and was surprised to see none.
"Who do you think sent Hayes to kill your client?"
"Have you ever heard of a group called The Vaughn Street Glee Club?"
"Yes, but I'm impressed that you have. Why don't you tell me what you know about them."
"I think Pedro Aragon met Wendell Hayes in nineteen seventy when they were in their teens or early twenties and formed a pact to help each other. I think some of Hayes's childhood friends were part of the group. Over the years, Wendell and his friends rose to power and they drafted new recruits into their club. If I'm right, there are bankers, judges, politicians, district attorneys, and police involved. How am I doing?"
"Keep going, Miss Jaffe," Hunter responded noncommittally.
Amanda told Hunter about the evidence that pointed to Senator Travis as the man who murdered Lori Andrews. Then she told the agent Jon Dupre's version of the Hayes killing and the evidence that supported it, including Paul Baylor's opinion that Dupre had been attacked.
"My investigator has discovered two suicides going back many years, which may have been murders committed by these people. But I think that the real reason they want to shut me up is that I filed a motion for discovery for the police reports in a multiple murder in a drug house that occurred in nineteen seventy. Here's the kicker: The drug house was on Vaughn Street."
Hunter's poker face was transformed by a wide smile.
"Weapons taken from Wendell Hayes's home were used in the shooting. The police concluded that a burglar stole the guns but I think Wendell took them. Hayes had an alibi for the night of the killings. Supposedly he was at a party with college friends who were home on Christmas break. I'm willing to bet that somewhere there is an interview with these boys. I think they were the original members of The Vaughn Street Glee Club and this is the only record that can point us to them."
"Miss Jaffe," Hunter said, "if you ever get tired of practicing law there's a spot for you in the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"Then you believe me?"
"Oh, yes. I've been on this case for a while. Senator Travis had a penchant for rough sex and a thing for Lori Andrews. Dupre was buying his drugs from Pedro Aragon. When Portland Vice arrested Andrews, she agreed to work as an informant to help them get Dupre. The Bureau has been trying to break Pedro's cartel and we found out about Lori. During a debriefing, she told an agent about the senator, and I was brought in. We'd heard rumors that Pedro was connected to several prominent people in Oregon, and I'd heard Sammy Cortez's story about The Vaughn Street Glee Club. When Wendell Hayes tried to kill Dupre I started taking the story seriously. You've given me the last piece of information that I needed."
"To do what?"
"Again, I'm afraid I can't tell you that, not until we close the loop. But I can tell you that you've performed an invaluable service by opening up to me."
"Since I've been so helpful to you, do something for me."
"If I can."
"Can you take me to the hospital? I've got to see my father."
Part Six
THE NINETY-YARD RUN
Chapter Forty-Nine.
Harvey Grant was taking off his robe when Tim Kerrigan burst into his chambers and collapsed onto a chair.
"You've got to help me," Kerrigan pleaded.
"What's wrong, Tim?" Grant asked, alarmed. Kerrigan looked like a drunk or a crack addict. If he came apart it would be a disaster.
"I . . . I have dreams. I see her burning, and I can still see the way her face looked when I pulled the trigger. It exploded. There was so much blood."
The judge sat next to Kerrigan. "I'm glad that you've come to me, Tim. I'm glad that you know that you can trust me to help you."
"You're the only one I can talk to." His head dropped into his hands. "I can't take it. I can't live like this. Maybe I should go to the police. I'd tell them it was all my idea. I wouldn't tell them about you or anyone else."
Grant kept his voice calm. He had to stop Kerrigan from coming unglued.
"You're not thinking straight," the judge said. "A confession would destroy Cindy. And think of Megan. She would always be known as the daughter of a murderer, and she'd lose her father. You know what happens to children who grow up with that curse. You would be destroying her chance of happiness."
Kerrigan nodded. "You're right. I have to think of Megan. But what can I do? I feel lost. I can't find any peace."
"Time will make the pain go. Two years from now you won't remember how sad you are today. You'll be in Washington, D.C., with Megan and Cindy by your side. You'll be one of the most powerful men in America and Ally Bennett will seem like someone who only existed in a dream."
Kerrigan looked at Grant hopefully. "Do you think that will really happen?"
Grant squeezed Kerrigan's shoulder. "Trust me, Tim. This empty feeling, your guilt, it will all fade away. You'll be fine and your life will be good."
Kerrigan embraced Grant. "Thank you, Harvey."
Grant patted Tim on the back. Then he got him a glass of water and waited while Tim pulled himself together. They talked for a while more and Kerrigan was calmer when he left. As soon as the door closed behind the prosecutor, Grant sagged.
"Detective Gregaros is here, Judge," Grant's secretary said over the intercom.
"Send him in," Grant said.
The judge had rarely seen Gregaros rattled, but he looked bad today.