Fugitive

Keys dropped the tough posture and his shoulders sagged.

“Look, Charlie, I’ll level with you. I’m desperate. The feds took everything. I’ve been working as a telemarketer, because no one will hire an ex-con to do anything else. I live in a hotel room with roaches. You’ve still got the money in your Swiss account and all this new dough. I had to give my money back as part of the plea bargain. I’ve got nothing.”

“I can give you a few bucks, if that’s why you’re here.”

Keys reddened. “I don’t want a handout. I want back in the game. I want to be a player, again.”

“Then I can’t help you.”

“I’ll hire a lawyer. I’ll sue and I’ll win.”

“Do what you gotta do,” Charlie said before walking back to the chaos in his room.

Keys leaned back against the wall. When he had pulled himself together, he started walking to the elevator, his head down, looking utterly defeated.

“Mr. Keys.”

Mickey looked up and found Charlie’s lawyer blocking the way.

“Can I talk to you?” Amanda asked.

“We’ll do our talking in court when I sue your client for breach of contract,” Keys answered, trying to sound like the tough negotiator he’d been before his fall.

“I don’t know anything about your business problems with Mr. Marsh. I’m his criminal attorney.”

“Then what do you want?”

“You were at the Westmont when Congressman Pope was shot, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you be willing to talk to my investigator?”

“About what?”

“Anything you saw that will help us get a handle on what happened.”

Keys looked incredulous. “You want me to help that ungrateful prick after what he just did to me?”

“We just want to hear your version of what happened.”

“My version, huh.” Keys stopped talking and Amanda could almost see the wheels turning inside his skull. “Well, let’s talk about that. My memory is a bit hazy right now. But I might be able to remember more clearly if my financial situation cleared up. So, why don’t you have a word with Charlie. When you get back to me-depending on the news-I’ll either be talking to your investigator or the DA.”

CHAPTER 33

The morning after the sniper attack, Amanda slept late and didn’t get to the offices of Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi until nine. When she opened the door to the reception area, De

“What do you think?” he asked proudly.

“Not much until I’ve had my coffee,” Amanda answered, taking a step back from the keyed-up journalist.

“Look,” Levy said, pointing just below the picture of Charlie Marsh that graced the magazine cover, where bright red block letters proclaimed, THE GURU RETURNS. Following the title was the byline, DENNIS LEVY.

“That’s my story,” Levy declared.

“Congratulations,” Amanda told him, impressed despite her dislike for the reporter.

Levy flipped the magazine open to his story and directed Amanda to a column on the second page. “I told you you’d get a lot of publicity out of this,” he said.

Amanda read the column. Sure enough, she was prominently featured as the lawyer Charlie had chosen to defend him.

“Mrs. Brice overnighted this copy to me. It is literally hot off the press.”

Amanda forced a smile. “It looks like you’re on your way, De

“So, what are we doing this morning?”

“I’m not sure,” Amanda lied. “I do have other cases. Why don’t you wait out here while I get some caffeine in me and try to figure out my schedule? All that excitement at the courthouse threw it off.”

“Sure thing,” De

As Amanda walked toward Kate’s office, she chanced a quick glance over her shoulder. Levy was smiling like the Cheshire Cat as he reread his magazine article. She couldn’t blame him for being proud.

Amanda knocked on Kate’s doorjamb. “I have a problem,” she told her investigator. “I’m interviewing Sally Pope and I do not want Jimmy Olsen’s evil twin tagging along.”

“Levy wants to look at the Pope file. I can set him up in the conference room and you can sneak out while he’s going through it.”

“You’re brilliant.”

“That’s why I get the big bucks.”

“Just make sure he understands that he has to leave the file the way he found it. I haven’t had a chance to go through it yet.”

“Will do. I’ll also take him with me when I interview Ralph Day.”

“Who?”

“He was Junior’s challenger in his last election.”

“Right. That should keep him out of my hair.”

WHILE HE WAITED for the receptionist to bring him coffee, De

Kate’s trial book made it easier for De

An hour later, De

“SO, WHAT’S IT like working for the Jaffes?” De

“Most of the time it’s just routine stuff. You know, witness interviews, like today. Internet searches.”

“It must be pretty exciting when you’re investigating a big case, like Charlie’s.”

“The job has its moments,” Kate answered ambiguously, choosing to keep to herself the details of the harrowing situations in which she’d been involved since going to work for Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi.

“Any background you can give me on Amanda? Things that aren’t public knowledge that might spice up my stories.”

“You mean like her affair with Brad Pitt or the identity of the father of her secret love child?” Kate answered, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.

Levy’s laugh sounded forced. “That’s good. Yeah, that would help sell magazines.”

“I’m afraid Amanda doesn’t have a lot of secrets and-if she did-she’d have to be the person to tell them to you.”

“Oh, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“What makes you think I’d dish dirt about a good friend?”

“So there is something to tell?” De

Kate held her temper. “That’s a good point,” she said evenly. “I’m certain every major law firm in the country would be eager to hire a private investigator willing to sell out every secret they had. I’ll remember to put in my résumé that I can be bought easily.”

De

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Kate said, not bothering to mask her distaste.