A Certain Justice

'When? About what?'

'An hour ago, maybe a little longer. It's all taken care of, these opinions he's releasing to the media. Chief Rigby and I told him to – what?'

She was shaking her head. 'Not an hour ago. Not that. He was just by my office ten minutes ago.'

'The man gets around.'

'Yes he does, Alan. I think he's trying to get it right.' They sat, staring at one another. The criticism – the challenge was hanging there between them. Reston crossed his legs. 'We all are, Elaine. So what's with the good lieutenant?'

She told him – Glitsky had come straight to her after the meeting with Wes Farrell, supplying her with the gist of it – the details regarding the knife wounds, the revised theory on the second photograph to say nothing of the first, even the explanation that the snitch, Cynthia Taylor, might have been one of Shea's jilted exes.

Reston listened to it all in silence. 'Well,' he said, slapping his hands on his thighs, then standing. 'Well…' Stalling, he walked over to the window, stared at it, shifted from foot to foot.

Elaine spoke to his back. 'Lieutenant Glitsky asked me if we – if the DA's office – might want to review the charges – '

Reston turned quickly around. 'We can't do that.' And then less severe: 'On what grounds?'

'What I've just explained to you.'

'Which is what? An alternative explanation by the suspect's own lawyer? This is supposed to be compelling?'

'Alan, Glitsky isn't-'

'I'm not talking about Glitsky, Elaine. We've got a Grand Jury murder indictment on Kevin Shea, pushed through as I understand it by this office not two days ago, a picture of him in the act of committing the crime…'

'If it's-'

'No ifs, Elaine. The picture is what it is. It's clear to the whole world.'

'The interpretation might be wrong, Alan. That's all Lieutenant Glitsky was trying to say to me. If we take it to trial – '

Now he was pointing a finger, raising his voice. 'But we are the ones who take it to court. Not Lieutenant Glitsky. The DA's office. And I'm hearing nothing that remotely challenges my conviction that Kevin Shea is responsible for this… for all of this.'

'All right, then, how about this?' Standing, Elaine removed the second photograph from her satchel and brought it over to his desk. She moved some of his junk aside as he crossed to her.

'What is…?' he began.

'Taken two or three seconds after the other one. Shea handing the knife to Arthur Wade, giving him a last chance to cut himself down.'

She let him study it for a while, then started to put out, fact by fact, the alternative explanation of what appeared to be there – the way the shirt was pulled, the angle of the rope as Glitsky had shown her.

When she finished, Reston flipped some pages from her file, then walked to the window again. 'It sounds to me like Shea's got himself a good attorney.'

'Or he's i

Reston shook his head. 'No, he's not.' He turned again to face her. 'Elaine, let's get this straight. We have a case that convinced the Grand Jury. The Board of Supervisors got together to put a reward on Kevin Shea's head. You particularly – representing this office – have gone public over the airtightness of this indictment. And now you're coming to me, my first day on the job, and you expect me to call off the whole thing – maybe the best opportunity we have to get the city under some control again? That's not going to happen.'

'Even if he didn't do it?'

'You have any proof that he didn't?'

'Traditionally, Alan, we're supposed to have proof that he did. Remember? Lieutenant Glitsky thinks he can get Shea to come in if you'll talk to him.'

'If I'll drop the charges – '

'Only after.'

'No. It's too late for that now. He comes in, he's put under arrest, we go from there. No deals. Not with him.'

'Then he won't come in.'

Reston let out a long breath. 'Then he's taking that risk, and it's substantial.' Trying to close the gap, he stepped closer to her. 'Elaine, maybe you ought to talk to your mother about this. She's got her own investment here, you know.'

'This isn't about my mother, Alan.'

'You may not want to hear this, Elaine, but your mother may be the reason you got the case.' He leaned back against his desk.

Some of his folders slipped off to the floor. They both ignored them.

Her eyes narrowed. 'That's not true. Chris Locke believed in my-'

'No question, but…' This time he did touch her arm. 'Look, Elaine, no one's saying we're not going to give Shea a fair trial, but you don't about-face from rabid abuse of a suspect on television to letting him go because his own defense attorney, for Christ's sake, comes up with some reasons that might, and I repeat might, explain some facts differently. That would make the process and all of us look like fools. It would make your mother look ridiculous.'

'I'm not saying he didn't do it, I'm asking what if…'

His hand, still on her arm, squeezed it firmly. 'And I hear you. I don't want this case going south any more than you do, any more than your mother does. But we can't just do what Chris Locke did with Jerohm Reese – say we're giving up on the charges because the evidence suddenly got shaky. That's what started all this, remember? Even if I thought there was significant merit there, I wouldn't do it. I couldn't. Not now. The city would explode. Nobody's ready to hear it.' He lowered his voice. 'To say nothing of the fact that, personally, I'd be betraying your mother. As you well know.'

'So what are you going to do? What are we going to do?'

'I'm going to wait, Elaine. There's no reason to do anything, to change direction at all. We don't have any new facts. Do we?'

She guessed not, not hard ones… well, maybe the lawyer's assertions about the knife wounds, but they weren't substantiated either. She just didn't know anymore. She was too tired.

'Look, Elaine, it's been a long day. Why don't you go home, get some rest, try not to think about Shea for a while.'

She realized that there was nothing she could do now, and the possibility still existed that an arrest of Kevin Shea would at least bring some calm to the city. She didn't want to muddy those waters, especially not if it would embarrass her mother. There really was nothing to do but wait it out.

She forced a weary smile. 'I'm sorry, it's just been…'

He nodded. 'It's all right, Elaine. It's all right, I understand.' He touched her arm a last time. 'My door is always open.'

No sooner had the door closed, though, than Reston was behind his desk and on the telephone, placing a call to Chief Dan Rigby, who picked up from his War Room on the second ring.

'Chief, I'm sorry to bother you, but I thought we were pretty clear with this Lieutenant Glitsky in homicide, that he ought to keep a lower profile.'

'Yes. Well, I thought so, too.'

'Well, I just had a long conversation with Elaine Wager, and he doesn't appear to have gotten the message.'