Fleurette looked toward the open drapes that gave onto the street in front of the brownstone. “Now it doesn’t matter, does it?”
“No,” Sherlock said. “No, it doesn’t matter now. Did Danny give you any hint at all of what he’d spoken to Justice Califano about?”
Fleurette slowly shook her head. “No, but now that I picture his face in my mind, he looked—smug, yeah, that’s it, Danny looked kind of smug. I hadn’t seen that expression on his face before, so it struck me. I remember wondering, now what’s going on here?”
“But he looked smug—like he’d found out something and rubbed Justice Califano’s nose in it?”
“I didn’t think that then, but it could have been something like that, I suppose. Oh goodness, it was only two days ago—and now Danny’s dead.”
“Do you remember seeing any papers on Justice Califano’s desk, see him put any papers in his breast pocket, hear him on the phone?”
Fleurette slowly shook her head. “Wait—when he came out to run off to Chief Justice Abrams’s meeting, he was sticking something in his breast pocket, and then patted the pocket. But he was always doing that.”
“Any ideas about what the papers were?”
“No, not a clue.”
“Did you ever hear of Justice Califano being involved with anyone at the Court?”
Fleurette rocked back with surprise. “Oh my, no, Agent Sherlock. He’s old, and all sorts of proper and married, for God’s sake.” She paused a moment. “On the other hand, Justice Wallace has a reputation, if you know what I mean. He’s a grandfather as well as a Justice of the Supreme Court. Isn’t that disgusting?”
Sherlock patted her hand.
That was interesting, Savich thought. He looked over at Ben who’d taken Callie’s hand to keep her still. Eliza Vickers and Justice Califano were indeed good actors if the law clerks hadn’t known. But Justice Xavier-Foxx had noticed.
Sherlock rose, and everyone rose with her. She gave Fleurette her card and told her exactly what Savich had told Eliza Vickers. “Anything, doesn’t matter if you think it’s silly, you call me. We’ll catch this guy, Fleurette, you can take that to the bank.”
They drove six blocks over to Indiana, only a block from the Daly Building, to the Beau Monde Coffee Shop. Savich took his chances and ordered tea, the other three, coffee.
“So, Callie, tell me what you think of Fleurette,” Sherlock said.
“She’s really scared.”
Ben slowly nodded. “You’re right. I realize that now, but I didn’t pick up on it when we were with her.”
Savich said, “Do you think she was holding back?”
“She sure didn’t seem like she was,” Callie said. “I have to tell you, though, I’m surprised that she hadn’t picked up on the affair Eliza was having with my stepfather. Such close quarters, in each other’s faces every day. And yet Justice Xavier-Foxx, who’s not around them that much, picked up on what Eliza felt for him.”
“Yes, I was surprised, too,” Ben said.
Callie sat back in the booth, fiddled with her fork. “I still can’t come to grips with it. He wanted to marry my mom so much. I don’t understand how that can be. My poor mother. Do you think she knew? Maybe guessed?”
“I hope not,” Savich said. “Fleurette was scared,” Savich continued as he selected a bag of Earl Grey tea from a box the waitress held out to him. “I wonder if she has something specific to be scared about.”
“Justice Califano and Daniel O’Malley are dead,” Ben said. “If I were Vickers or LaFleurette, I’d be scared on general principles.”
“But Danny was acting strange, if they’re telling the truth,” Sherlock said. “You don’t think either of those two women would be stupid enough to be in on it, do you, Dillon?”
“I wouldn’t think so, no. The agents assigned to guard them, they’ll keep an eye on them. They should be on the job pretty soon.” Savich picked up his teacup, sipped cautiously, and sighed with pleasure. “Who knew I’d find good tea not a block from the Daly Building?”
Sherlock laughed, patted his arm. “Since Ben hangs out here, you can make it something of a hangout yourself. Callie, did you pick up anything else?”
Callie shook her head. “No, I don’t believe so. Did Eliza Vickers think my stepfather would divorce my mom and marry her?”
“No. She seems philosophical about the future. I don’t doubt her, Callie. She’s a good woman, works hard, probably learns at a prodigious rate, but most of all, she enjoys being on the inside, close to power, which is one of the trimmings your stepfather provided her. But she knew that he loved your mother and you. She said so. You’ve got to let it go. It doesn’t matter now.”
But Callie couldn’t let it go. “How could my mother not know? Not guess? I know if I were married to a man for as long as they were married, I’d know if he wasn’t faithful.”
“She’s never given you any inkling that she had any suspicions at all?”
“No, she hasn’t.” Callie looked at Ben, whose expression surprised her. It was austere as a monk’s, his eyes very cold. “What?”
Ben Raven said, “I don’t approve of infidelity.”
Savich raised his teacup and gave Sherlock’s cup a tap. “Well, neither do we.”
“But if Callie’s right, why was Fleurette scared? Did you pick up on Eliza Vickers being scared as well?”
Both Savich and Sherlock shook their heads.
Savich said, “I need to get back and spend some time with MAX. We’ve got a whole crew inputting all the background information and interviews on all the players—the law clerks, the Justices, and your mother’s and stepfather’s friends and acquaintances, Callie. It’s time for me to sort through some of that.”
“Does that include financials? Bank stuff?”
Savich merely shrugged. “MAX went platinum a good while ago. He can find out almost anything at all. If he’s in the mood, he can data-mine in Siberia.”
“Okay, okay, I get it. You cut corners.”
Ben said, “You aren’t going to call that into your editor at the Post, are you, Ms. Markham? Do an exposé about misuse of federal power?”
Callie struck a pose that Sherlock thought was very effective. It nearly put Ben Raven right under the Formica table. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but now that you bring it up—ah, so many possibilities.”
“To think I told this woman what an excellent butt she has,” Ben remarked to the café at large.
Sherlock laughed and tapped Ben on the shoulder. Before she could say anything, Ben added, “She also thinks your husband is cute. What do you think of that, Sherlock?”
“A woman of excellent eyesight and taste,” Sherlock said. “Hmm. Dillon, what do you think?”
“I’d be stupid to disagree with you,” Savich said.
“You know what I think, Ms. Markham?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me within the next three seconds, Detective Raven.”
“I think I’ll take you to the Tidal Basin and throw your black-belt ass in the snow. No one would hear your yells over the waterfalls at the Roosevelt Memorial.”
“You could try, Detective Raven, you could try.” She gave him a salute with her empty coffee mug.
“You guys put on a pretty good show,” Savich said, peeling bills out of his wallet. “If you’re through sniping, we’re outta here. I want to stop off to talk to Dr. Conrad and to forensics again. Then it’s back to headquarters and MAX.”