Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean he’s the President. I always thought he was presidential. What do you think of him?”
“Smart. Really smart. The kind of smart you want to be real careful not to get into a battle of wits with unless you’re real sure about your own abilities.”
“I guess it’s a good thing he’s on America’s side.”
“Yeah.” Frank looked back at the screen. “So anything grab your eye?”
Jack punched a button on the remote. “One thing. Check this out.” The video leapt forward. The figures jerked around like actors in a silent movie.
“Watch this.”
The screen showed Luther stepping out of the van. His eyes were turned toward the ground; the manacles were obviously making it difficult for him to walk. Suddenly, a column of people moved into the video, led by the President. Luther was partially obscured. Jack froze the flame.
“Look.”
Frank scrutinized the screen, absently munching peanut butter crackers and draining his coffee. He shook his head.
Jack looked at him. “Look at Luther’s face. You can see it right between the suits. Look at his face.”
Frank bent forward, almost touching the screen with his face. He recoiled, his eyes wide.
“Damn, looks like he’s saying something.”
“No, it looks like he’s saying something to somebody.”
Frank looked across at Jack. “You’re saying he’s recognized somebody, like maybe the guy who popped him?”
“Under the circumstances, I don’t think he’d just be making casual conversation with some stranger.”
Frank looked back at the screen, studying it intently. Finally he shook his head. “We’re going to need some special talents on this.” He rose. “Come on.”
Jack grabbed his coat. “Where to?”
Frank smiled as he rewound the tape and then put on his hat.
“Well first I’m gonna buy us some dinner. I’m married, and I’m also older and fatter than you. Consequently, crackers for dinner don’t cut it. Then we’re going down to the station. I’ve got somebody I want you to meet.”
Two hours later Seth Frank and Jack walked into the Middleton Police Station, their bellies lined with surf and turf and a couple slices of pecan pie. Laura Simon was in the lab; the equipment was already set up.
After introductions, Laura popped the tape in. The images sprung to life on a forty-six-inch screen in the corner of the lab. Frank fast-forwarded to the appropriate spot.
“There,” Jack pointed, “right there.”
Frank froze the tape.
Laura sat at a keyboard and typed in a series of commands. On the screen, the part of the frame containing Luther’s image was blocked out and then magnified in increasingly large degrees, like a balloon being blown up. This process continued until Luther’s face seemed to span the entire forty-six inches.
“That’s as far as I can take it.” Laura spun her chair around and nodded to Frank. He pushed a button on the remote and the screen again came to life.
The audio was choppy; screams, shouts, traffic noise and the blended sounds of hundreds of people served to make what Luther was saying incomprehensible. They watched as his lips moved open and closed.
“He’s pissed. Whatever he’s saying he is not happy.” Frank pulled out a cigarette, got a dirty look from Simon and put it back in his pocket.
“Anybody read lips?” Laura looked at each of them.
Jack stared at the screen. What the hell was Luther saying? The look on his face. Jack had seen that once before, if he could only remember when. It had been recently, he was sure of it.
“You see something we don’t?” Frank asked. Jack looked over to see Frank staring at him.
Jack shook his head, rubbed his face. “I don’t know. There’s something there, I just can’t place it.”
Frank nodded to Simon to cut off the equipment. He stood up and stretched. “Well, sleep on it. Anything comes to you, let me know. Thanks for coming in, Laura.”
The two men walked out together. Frank glanced over at Jack, then reached across and felt behind his neck. “Jesus, you are a stress grenade ready to explode.”
“Christ, I don’t know why I should be. The woman I was supposed to marry I’m not, the woman I wanted to marry just told me to get out of her life, and I’m reasonably sure I’m not going to have a job in the morning. Oh, not to mention, someone murdered a person I cared a lot about and we’re probably never going to find out who it is. Hell, my life couldn’t get any more perfect, could it?”
“Well, maybe you’re due for some good luck.”
Jack unlocked his Lexus. “Yeah, hey if you know anyone who wants an almost-brand-new car, let me know.”
Frank’s eyes twinkled as he looked at Jack. “Sorry, nobody I know could afford it.”
Jack smiled back. “Me either.”
Driving back, Jack looked at his car clock. It was almost midnight. He passed the offices of Patton, Shaw, looked up at the stretch of darkened offices and wheeled his car around, turning into the garage. He slid his security card in, waved to the security camera posted outside the garage door, and a few minutes later was in the elevator heading up.
He didn’t know exactly why he was here. His days at Patton, Shaw were now clearly numbered. Without Baldwin as a client, Kirksen would ride him out on a rail. He felt a little sorry for Lord. He had promised the man protection. But he wasn’t going to marry Jennifer Baldwin simply to ensure Lord’s mammoth draw check. And the man had lied to him about Barry Alvis’s departure from the firm. But Lord would land on his feet. Jack hadn’t been kidding about his faith in the man’s resiliency. A number of firms would snap him up in a New York minute. Lord’s future was far more assured than Jack’s.
The elevator doors opened and Jack stepped into the firm’s lobby. The wall lights were on low and the shadowy effect would have been a little unnerving if he hadn’t been so completely preoccupied with his thoughts. He walked down the hallway toward his office, stopped at the kitchen and grabbed a glass of soda. Ordinarily, even at midnight, there were a few people beating their brains out over some impossible deadline. Tonight there was only stone-cold silence.
Jack turned on his light and closed his office door. He looked around at the domain of his personal partnership. His kingdom, if only for another day. It was impressive. The furniture was tastefully expensive, the carpet and wall coverings luxurious. He went down his line of diplomas. Some hard-earned, others freebies that you got for just being a lawyer. He noticed that the scattered papers had been picked up, the work of the meticulous and sometimes overzealous cleaning crew who were used to attorney sloppiness and the occasional full-blown tantrum.
He sat down, leaned back in his chair. The soft leather was more comfortable than his bed. He could visualize Jennifer talking with her father. Ransome Baldwin’s face would flame red at what he would perceive as an unforgivable insult to his precious little girl. The man would lift the phone tomorrow morning and Jack’s corporate career would be over.
And Jack couldn’t have cared less. His only regret was not instigating that result sooner. Hopefully PD would take him back. That was where he belonged anyway. No one could stop him from doing that. No, his real troubles had started when he had tried being something and someone he wasn’t. He would never make that mistake again.
His attention shifted to Kate. Where would she go? Had she really been serious about quitting her job? Jack recalled the fatalistic look on her face and concluded that, yes, she had been quite serious. He had pleaded with her once more. Just like four years before. Pleaded with her not to go, not to leave his life again. But there was something there he could not break through. Maybe it was the enormous guilt she carried. Maybe she simply did not love him. Had he ever really addressed that possibility? The fact was he hadn’t. Consciously had not. The possible answer scared the hell out of him. But what did it matter now?