A Certain Justice

'You see the president tomorrow, honey, you tell him it's Loretta Wager making him look so good. Nice and subtle, though, hear?'

'I hear you.'

'I know you do, sugar.'

And then there was Abe.

He stood leaning against the jamb, filling the doorway, half-smiling, the simple enjoyment of watching her. She'd been making notes on her projected press conference for the next day, hadn't even sensed his arrival.

'How do you stay so invisible?' he asked her.

'God! Oh, Abe!' Her hand went to her chest. 'You scared me to death.'

'We homicide inspectors are trained to silently stalk our prey. Is it a good time?' Meaning for them to be alone. He stepped into the room, looking a question at her, getting a nod, closing the door behind him. Barefoot as usual, she came around the desk into his arms.

'God,' she said again, holding him, 'how can I have missed you this much?'

'I know. It's pretty ridiculous, isn't it?'

'Totally.'

Eventually they came untangled. 'What do you mean, invisible?' she asked.

'I mean normal humans usually only see senators on television surrounded by whatever the technical term is for flunkies…'

'Pages.'

'Okay, pages. Or at least secret service people.'

'We don't have that.'

'… or reporters of one kind or another. Somebody, anyway, at least. And here you sit all alone in your diddly little office…'

'This is a nice office, Abe.'

'Well, yes, compared to some, like mine. But still, you're alone so much. It's just never been my fantasy of the power-broker life.'

'You think I'm a power broker?'

'I don't think you're anybody's page.'

She broke a small smile. 'No, I suppose that's right.' Boosting herself onto the desk, she sat facing him. 'You want to have a lot of other people around, is that it?'

He moved to her again, stood against the desk, between her legs. She was no taller against him than when she'd been standing. 'I just don't know how you do it.'

'I don't think that door locks.' She had her hands around his waist, looking up at him. 'Well, believe it or not, when Elaine called – when was it, Tuesday night – and this whole thing looked like it was going to blow up, I just bought myself a ticket and got on a commercial flight to San Francisco. I had to be out here, see if I could help. Sometimes you've got to be free to move. I thought this would be one of those times. And I'm kind of glad I did.' She squeezed him. 'Are you?'

He went to the door, checked that it did not, in fact, lock, then opened it and looked out in the hallway. 'There's nobody out there,' he said, crossing the office, picking up one of the chairs and placing it under the doorknob. Back to her. 'It's six o'clock. Place is probably empty.' She brought her feet to the floor, slid her hose off and lifted herself back onto the edge of the desk. 'We'd better hurry,' she said, pulling at his belt, bringing him to her.

'Can I borrow your telephone for thirty seconds?' He was already punching in numbers. She had moved the chair away from the doorway and was sitting in it.

'This is Glitsky,' he said after a short wait. 'You beeped me.' He listened for another moment, checked his watch. 'I can be there in an hour.' He pulled a pad around, wrote something on it, tore off the page and stuffed it into his shirt pocket. 'Good. See you then.'

'An hour?' Loretta asked.

Glitsky moved to the other chair and sat facing her. 'That was a friend of mine with news about Wes Farrell,' he said. 'Kevin Shea's attorney.'

He couldn't read her expression, though for a moment it seemed as though some of the warmth had left her face. 'I meant to ask,' she said.

'It's been a busy day, I meant to tell you.'

He told her about it – so much to do with Kevin Shea. The last time they'd discussed it – before they'd gone out to di

When he finished, Loretta said, 'And you're saying you think Alan's not offering a deal on Shea's safety because of me?'

'Essentially that's it. How I see it.'

'Well, that's got to stop,' she said. 'I'm not out to get Kevin Shea. Abe, you know that. I've been pushing for his proper arrest since I got here.'

Glitsky nodded. 'I know that, Loretta, but meanwhile Wes Farrell offers to give him up – just like that – all he needs is some minimal guarantee from Alan Reston, and Reston won't do it. Then, for some reason, Farrell goes sideways about meeting up with me. Then Shea comes out with this videotape explaining his side of things, which never would have happened if Reston… Did Elaine mention any of this to you?'

At the mention of her daughter's name Loretta clearly tensed. 'She told me a lot about… no, not this. Not specifically.' She paused. 'She told me you know.'

'Her and Locke?'

'And me and you.'

'I kept that vague. In the past tense,' he said.

'I'm afraid I didn't.'

A hollow of silence.

Then Glitsky: 'Well.' He blew out a breath.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'But you can see… we didn't talk too much about Kevin Shea.'

Glitsky stood up, paced the small room. He stopped by the window, looked out into the lengthening shadows. 'That phone call,' he began. 'My friend says he thinks he's got Farrell agreeing to talk to me again. If he does I'm going to need some assurance for Shea, which means Reston.'

'And you would like me to talk to Alan?'

'I think it might break the logjam, Loretta. If we could bring him in… it would all be over.'

One leg curled under her, she sat back on the chair. 'Elaine did say there was some indication that Shea might not be… that the case might be difficult to prove.'

'He's got himself a different version of the events, but that's not exactly unique among defendants. You've got to have a story.'

'Do you think – personally, now, Abe – do you think Kevin Shea's story is true?'

At the window, he turned. 'What are you really asking?'

'I'm at least in part asking how this is going to affect my daughter, Abe. I picked Kevin Shea as the symbol of white racism, and I believed it, but she's got to live with him. I mean, she's gone public, as a lot of us have, with condemning him.'

'I know. I tried to counsel her against that.'

'But she's already done it. What's she going to do about it now?'

The harsh tone – the note of panic. Glitsky went over to Loretta, down to one knee, his arm around her back. He pulled her to him. 'Hey. This is why we're talking, all right?'

She slumped into him. 'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It's not you. I'm just so worried for my daughter. Are you telling me Shea really might not have done it?'

Glitsky nodded. There's some chance of that, yes.'

'And what will that do to Elaine, to her career?'

After a minute he replied, 'It'll be better than having it come out after he's been shot down by some overzealous FBI SWAT team.'

'I think that's a little extreme, Abe. It's not going to come to that-'

'Have you met Special Agent Simms?'

'No.'

'I wouldn't write it off until you have.'

Loretta shook her head. 'Abe, the FBI agents I know are professionals. They don't want firefights they can't explain or justify.'

'That's my point, Loretta. I think Simms wants exactly that – a firefight she could plausibly deny. She'll just say that her information was that Shea was armed and dangerous. She had no choice. But the bottom line to her superiors is she's not afraid to pull the trigger. And believe me – I'm in law enforcement, I know – this is considered a good thing.'

Loretta still wasn't convinced. 'I just have a hard time believing that the FBI…'