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“Got it,” Battaglia said, tossing the photo on his desk.

“There’s thirty-six guys, but only three of them, according to admin, are into inking tats.”

Battaglia lit a cigar, squinting at me as he struck the match to see if I was part of Chirico’s plan or as mystified as he seemed to be.

“And one of them, Mr. B, had a competency hearing on May 3rd to determine whether he was fit yet to stand trial.”

“So?”

“A competency hearing at Fishkill, instead of here in the courthouse. The perp’s in the loony bin with Tanner ’cause he killed his landlady and stuffed her in the incinerator. He’s up there pretrial-instead of at Rikers Island-’cause he’s a parole violator from an earlier conviction.”

“I know the case,” I said. “Kerry O’Donnell has it. Trial Bureau 80.”

“Exactly. And Kerry had to travel to Fishkill to do the hearing because the prisoner is considered too violent to risk the transport to Manhattan. Still incompetent to stand trial, Mr. B, but they had to go ahead with a hearing since it was mandatory. So they held it at the facility.”

I could see a flash of daylight. “And who conducted it, Sarge?”

“Judge Pell,” he said. “Judge Jessica Pell.”

Battaglia rustled the cellophane wrapper of his cigar into a ball, squeezing it into his fist. “She have any connection to Tanner when you tried him?”

“No, Paul. None at all.”

The district attorney leafed through the papers Chirico gave him. “Was she alone with Kerry’s prisoner at any point in time?”

“No. But his artwork came up during the hearing. Not ’cause his lawyer wanted it to, but Kerry says the guy just rambled on about how he’d found God through the tattoo needle.”

Battaglia held up his hands. “I’m missing the link.”

“I interviewed Kerry on Tuesday, to see what went on while she was there at Fishkill. But it wasn’t until Wednesday morning that Alex linked Raymond Tanner to a new case. Kerry recognized his name and called me back that afternoon. She told me to have the warden pull the log from the day of the hearing.”

“Why?” I asked. I wished that Kerry had told me this, too, but we were good friends and she had put whatever information she had into the proper hands by telling Chirico. That was so much smarter than confiding in me.

“Kerry said that when her proceeding was completed and she was about to leave the hearing room, one of the prison guards walked in with a special request.”

“For what?” Battaglia asked.

“Raymond Tanner-Kerry heard the guard say his name-had started work release. He wanted to get a relief from civil disabilities ruling,” Chirico said, “which is required for some of the licensing needs in the nursing home industry.”

“So he needed a judge to sign off on that application,” I said.

“And there was Jessica Pell,” Chirico said. “In the house.”

“But she didn’t know about my connection to him.”

“The warden gave him the folder, with your name on the cover page as the prosecutorial contact, Alex.”

“They couldn’t possibly have left the judge alone with this Tanner animal?” Battaglia asked.

“Seventeen minutes alone, according to Kerry’s timepiece. After all, Mr. B, he wasn’t guilty. He was just insane, and he was already deemed safe to be out and about among the general population of this big city.”

“Eight days after April 30th. Almost two weeks since Mike Chapman tried to get out of her clutches,” I said. “And within the week, the words KILL COOP are inked on his hand, perhaps suggested to him by a judge out to get Chapman and me for her perceived slights, just minutes after she had presided over a hearing involving his cell-block mate and tattoo artist.”

“April 30th?” Battaglia asked. “What’s that?”

“My birthday, Paul. Mike says it was one of the triggers for Pell.”

The embers on the tip of his cigar lighted up as he turned his head to me and puffed on it. “Sorry I missed it, Alex. Help yourself to a Cohiba. And she was set off because you were in bed with Chapman then?”

“Last time I’m going to address this with you, boss,” I said, pushing away from the table to stand up. “My sexual relationships-such as they used to be-are none of your goddamn business. But if you have Rose check your calendar, April 30th was the day of the confrontation at Stallion Ridge Cellars. Luc Rouget was my lover, as you may recall. The rest of the bullshit that set Jessica Pell off was a function of her own paranoia.”

Battaglia looked back at Manny Chirico. “You can’t prove that Pell talked to Tanner about Alex, can you?”

“He doesn’t have to,” I said. I was ready to tell both Battaglia and Chirico about my conversation with Jessica Pell, and that I had audiotaped it so there would be proof to back me up.

But the district attorney continued to ignore me. “Sergeant, you think she put him up to the tattoo as some kind of threat to Alexandra?”

“It’s not a threat,” I said. “It’s an advertisement. Pell had no idea Raymond Tanner would go AWOL. She’s twisted, Paul. She was just trying to get at me any way she could at that moment. I bet she saw my name on Tanner’s file and that set her off. She may have lit a fire under him without even knowing how far he might go with it.”

Battaglia scowled at me. “You keep saying Pell’s twisted and crazy. That’s not the woman I know, and the mayor vouches for her like she’s Sonia Sotomayor.”

“You gotta trust me on this one, Mr. B,” Chirico said. “She’s smart, but this broad is off-the-charts whacko.”

Supreme Court Justice Sotomayor had worked as a prosecutor in Battaglia’s office before my tenure. The well-respected jurist and amazingly grounded woman was the polar opposite of Jessica Pell.

“You want examples, Paul? You don’t think she’s crazy enough to just want to put the fear of God in me ’cause she thinks I’m after Mike’s ass?”

“Why? You’ve got ex-?”

“Buckets full,” I said. “What would you like to know? Pell went to some Innocence Project program and did a panel with a three-time loser who was exonerated last summer on a murder charge. Hooked up with him after the show. You know what that means, Paul? Hooked up? She took him home with her that night and had sex with him. He blogged about it on his website-www.outandoverit.com-shortly before he was arrested in Queens County for throwing lye in the face of his ex-wife.”

“Jesus.”

“I’m not done. In the fall, when Dan Berner tried that triple homicide in front of her, she sent him mash notes before the trial was over. Happily married guy who’s squeaky clean and she practically wanted to do him in the robing room.”

“Why the hell didn’t he-?”

“Tell McKinney? Of course he did. And defense counsel, too. There’s a whole file on Pell that Pat must have.”

“Calm down, Alex,” Battaglia said. “You catch more flies with honey.”

“I’m not a flycatcher, Paul. And Pell may have jumped on her moment with Raymond Tanner for sport-she’s just that crazy-but now he’s out of the blocks and running wild.”

“Does Scully know what you’ve got?” Battaglia asked the sergeant.

“I’m on my way over to him now. I thought I’d show you first since it’s Alex who’s in Pell’s crosshairs, in regard to Tanner.”

“I’ll talk to him later, Sergeant. Let’s let Pell run her course.”

“Well, that option is totally unsatisfactory to me, Paul,” I said. I couldn’t control my anger. “That whackjob gives an ultimatum to Manny about one of the best detectives in the city-and about me, whatever that’s worth to you-and you’re going to let her play it out in two hours, no matter what Manny has to say to you? No matter what we’ve just heard?”

“You got a better idea?”

“I do,” I said, walking toward the door. “You call the mayor right now and tell him he gets her resignation before six o’clock tonight. Hizzoner wants to know what a stalker’s like? Well, his deputy mayor gave us one-and the mayor appointed her himself, put her in robes, with a gavel in her hand-and I’d like to serve Pell right back to him on a silver platter. He listens to you sometimes, Paul. You tell him she resigns by the end of the day.”