Case of Lies

21

SERGEANT CHENEY NOW JOINED THE SMALL group of Nina’s allies in the Ha

Flaherty came through with the necessary orders for deposing witnesses in a foreign jurisdiction. He was interested in the case, and made no more reference to a discretionary dismissal. He, too, was becoming an ally.

Betty Jo, erstwhile ally, did not even attend the hearing. A hundred pages of pleading paper and many a phone call later, Nina had her orders, her appointments, and her tickets.

Roger, ally, attended to Dave, non-ally, who remained mostly incommunicado. Roger did not move forward on the conservatorship idea.

“I found another way to handle Dave,” he told Nina. “We had a talk. To be honest, I let him have it. I told him I was disgusted with him. He told me he was disgusted with himself. He said he’s barely hanging on right now, and he can’t help, but he’s not going to interfere with your work.”

“Thanks. Great.”

“It’s the least I can do. That, and pay for your airline ticket.”

“Much appreciated.”

“How much more will you need?”

“I’ll front the rest,” Nina said. “The German official who sits in and the transcriber. We’re staying with a friend who has a car, so it won’t be too expensive.”

“Good luck.”

The case had become an intelligence war; the shooter in Nina’s mind was like Bin Laden, hiding in a cave, making dark forays from time to time. His freedom hurt her. She thought about Chelsi every day, the flutter of her eyes as she lay on the floor so close to Nina, the little business she had built up all by herself, her beauty, her heart.

It felt almost like being shot again herself. She couldn’t rest until the shooter was found; she imagined what it would be like to stand face-to-face with him.

It would happen soon. He was close, watching, unquiet himself. The Heddesheim depositions would break the case, she was sure of it.

Silke became an ally. Over the next few days, she persuaded Elliott Wakefield to fly to Germany from Seattle. She persuaded Raj not to allow Branson, the attorney from Boston, to represent them.

Bob was jubilant that he would be seeing Kurt over his holiday, but he kept giving Nina worried looks as she sat night after night in her bed, reading over the autopsy reports, working on her motions, making endless notes.

“Mom, you’re getting obsessed,” he told her one night. “You’re not going to get him by staring into that math book.”

“It’s interesting.”

“What has math got to do with it?”

“The new defendants are mathematicians.”

“So?”

“So. I’m going to be questioning them. Their work might come up, be important in some way.”

“I have the same brain as you, and I know obsessed. And you’re getting obsessed.”

Nina said, “Okay, it’s true. I don’t know why the mystery of the primes interests me so much. I don’t know if this math stuff has anything at all to do with my case. It’s one way to go, that’s all.” She kept her place with her finger and added, “I’m going to find this sucker, Bob.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. Or else he’ll find you.” Now she knew what was at the root of his worry.

“Come sit on the bed for a minute,” she said. Bob came in and sat down on the edge. His baby picture on the dresser still matched up with this tall fellow, though a curious solidification and elongation had occurred over the years. He still had the mole on his earlobe, dark hair that fell forward, blunt fingers, narrow feet.

“I’m sorry,” Nina said.

“You oughtta be.” Bob said this with feeling.

“I can’t help it.”

“You need a life.”

“I have a very full life.”

“Books aren’t a life.”

“Don’t you think my work is important?”

“I don’t know. I guess it is. But you get into it too much, Mom.”

Nina said lightly, “Do you think I’m going to lose my marbles? Start mumbling to myself on the street? Bob, I’m sane as a post.”

“Well, watch it. Anyways, what if this guy comes after you?”

She wanted to be flippant, say something like “Well, then you’ll protect me.” But he was so earnest, his brow knitted in the lineaments of worry.

“We’re leaving in two days, Bob. Wish and the police are watching out for us. We have a really good security system here.” She was still watching Bob, and she realized how much he wanted to help protect them. In a moment of maternal insight, she asked, “Is that why you’ve been practicing throwing rocks? The bolos?”

“I didn’t think you’d let me buy a Luger.”

Nina sighed. “That doesn’t explain my sneakers on the line,” she said. So he was practicing throwing rocks because he had no other way to protect them. She pulled him closer and put her arm around him. He let her do it. His shoulders were heartbreakingly bony. “Listen, bud, I promise you, we’re going to be fine. Okay? Now go start the laundry or you won’t be able to pack.”

“Okay.”

“Love you,” she said lightly. She kissed him warmly on the cheek. It had been too long since she had done that.

On the day before the flight, at the office, Mick McGregor stopped by. He waited patiently while Nina saw her client out.

“Hi, Mick! What brings you here?”

“You,” Mick said. Sandy let out a muffled “Hmph” from her desk ten feet away.

Mick had a burning look in his eye and a fistful of gladioli. He wore a corduroy sport coat with leather patches on the elbows hilariously reminiscent of the sixties.

“Look at the color of those flowers,” Nina said. “Uh, Sandy…”

“I’ll get the vase.” Sandy went into the conference room and shut the door, mostly.

“Can I buy you di

“I really can’t. I’m leaving tomorrow on a trip.”

“You have to eat di

“That line only works once,” Nina said, and smiled. She appreciated his obvious interest in her, but he was hard to take seriously, what with the wife and the students.

“How about a quick drink after work? You have to drink after work.”

“True.”

“Don’t you have any more questions for me? Please? Ever been to the top floor of Harrah’s, to the bar there?”

“No.”

“What time shall I pick you up?”

“Six. But I only have an hour.”

Six came and went, but Mick waited for her. When she saw the bar, Nina wished she’d had time to change out of her work suit. The sixteenth floor at Harrah’s consisted of a restaurant and a “view” bar: The view stretched west across the Tahoe valley to the mountains, and across the grassy slopes of Heavenly only a mile or so south of the casino-hotel. Taking a slow leave, the sun still left a gleaming trail across Lake Tahoe to the north, and several of the guests stood at the tall window looking out.

“Lucky time of day,” Mick said. He held her arm and steered her toward a small vacant table in the back.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine,” she said.

“Live a little,” Mick said. “Ever tried B & B?”

“Why not?” It was delicious, sweet. Mick had one, too. He drank it down in a gulp and that marvelously exciting look came back into his eyes. He put his palms together and held them to his face as though he was considering something important, still looking at her. His eyes were dark blue, she noticed.

“It is hard to extricate you for an hour,” he said. “I get the feeling you have to be cajoled from point to point.”

“Are you cajoling me somewhere?” She had to smile.

“To my lair, I hope. Someday,” he added hastily. “I don’t know how to act with you. Masterful, I think, but I’m not really the masterful type. I’m more of the puppy type, to be honest.”