Saxon looked up at Vicki, who introduced herself as she walked in and extended a hand, which he shook, half rising. "Allegretti, how do I know your name?"
"I'm the AUSA who worked with Morty. We got the conviction in Edwards, and we were on Bristow."
"Of course. Morty." Saxon frowned and pursed his lips, which were thin and chapped, as he eased back into his high-backed chair. "Jesus, God. Poor Morty. Siddown, kid." He waved at one of two padded brown leather chairs in front of his desk. "You were with him, right?"
"Yes." Vicki flashed on the scene of Morty at the doorway, blood bubbling at his lips, then forced it away.
"I read your statement. You did a good job, lots of details. It must have been tough." Saxon eyed her, appraising her. "Well, you know, we're all so sorry. Sorry for all of us. Sorry for Morty. He was a great agent. A thorough, professional agent. He would investigate a case no matter how long it took." Saxon ran a massive palm over his forehead, which only messed up hair that was baby-thin in front. "He was such a good guy, even his ex-wife called to say she's sorry." Saxon smiled, and so did Vicki.
"Morty always said he was married to the job."
"He was. ATF was his family, all the family he had. The office is in a state over it."
"I can imagine." Vicki felt a twinge at having cut ATF out of her jurisdictional analysis. She felt oddly as if she had betrayed Morty's memory.
"So what can I do for you?" Saxon checked his watch, a gold-toned Seiko. "You heard She Who Must Be Obeyed. It's late and I gotta go."
"I wanted to talk to you about the investigation of Morty's murder."
"Right now? On a Saturday night?" Saxon raised blond, furry eyebrows. "Pretty girl like you, you must have somewhere you have to be."
Actually, no. "I've been upset over Morty, so I've been doing some digging on my own."
Saxon's eyes narrowed. "You're an AUSA, right?"
"Yes, and I was an ADA before that. I've been an acronym for a long time." Vicki was trying to lighten his sudden bad mood, but it wasn't working.
"What do you mean, digging on your own?"
"Just asking some questions and-"
"You have no business doing that." Saxon frowned. "We sent your description of the doers to every ATF office in the country. That's where you end and we take over. We'll find those scumbags."
"Does that mean ATF will be in charge of the investigation?"
"Why do you want to know?" Saxon's features flattened to a bureaucratic mask, and Vicki shrugged.
"Because I care. About Morty."
"ATF cares about Morty, too." Saxon laughed without mirth, his manner growing unfriendlier by the minute, and Vicki sighed. What had she said wrong? Or did this guy just need more carbs?
"I didn't say you didn't. It's just that I found out some things today that are related to his murder."
"What things?"
"That's what I came to tell you." It wasn't the way Vicki had expected this conversation to go, but at least he wasn't pointing a gun at her. She began the story in chronological order. "I guess you heard about the murder this morning of Arissa Bristow." "Bristow?" Saxon frowned. "How do I know that name?"
"It was on the TV news."
"What's that have to do with Morty?"
"Arissa Bristow was the mother of my defendant in the straw purchase case, the one that Morty and I went to see the CI about. The CI was named Shayla Jackson."
"Jackson, I remember. But Bristow? When was she killed?"
"This morning, it was on TV," Vicki repeated. "Didn't Chief Bale call you, or someone from Philly Homicide?"
"No. What happened?" Saxon leaned across his desk, and Vicki filled him in about Mrs. Bristow, Reheema, and Cater Street, and finally Aspinall Street and Jamal Browning. She gave him a copy of her notes from her purse, which she took him through in detail. His eyes widened as she spoke, and he took notes on the same legal pad as his shopping list. When she was finished, he leaned back in his chair and set down his pen, deep in thought.
"I think Mrs. Bristow's murder is related to Morty's, and the drug traffic to all of it." Vicki was thinking out loud again. "A loose end is that guy who has my cell phone. He has to know something. I figure this is more than enough for a Title III tap on the cell, don't you?"
"This concerns me," Saxon said, but he wasn't speaking directly to Vicki anymore. His gaze strayed to the windows, but the blinds were drawn. Still he kept looking in that direction, maybe by habit. He seemed to have forgotten that she was even there. "I'm not happy I wasn't told about this situation."
"I'm not, either." Vicki sensed this would be the falling-through-the-cracks part. The jurisdictional turf war. These agencies would have to talk to one another if they wanted to catch Morty's killers. "Who has jurisdiction in the investigation, as you see it? I know ATF will want to follow up because of Morty, but as a legal matter, I think Philly Homicide should-"
"I'm not going to discuss that with you."
Vicki blinked. "I thought we were discussing it."
"No, we weren't. Relations between ATF and other federal agencies on a specific case isn't appropriate for us to discuss."
Vicki felt slapped down. He didn't mind discussing the case when she was the one giving information. "I guess that will be decided at the meeting on Wednesday."
Saxon lifted an eyebrow. "How do you know about that meeting?"
"I've kept it completely confidential, of course."
"That's not the point. How do you know?"
Vicki paused. She didn't want to rat on Detective Melvin. The plastic Jesus doll stared at her. Behind Jesus was John Saxon. For a minute she didn't know what to say.
"Allegretti," Saxon said sternly, "you're way out of line, what you've been doing. Going to Bristow's house, surveilling Cater Street, following a suspect to Aspinall. You're not a professional, and this is dangerous work. You shouldn't be taking any part of an investigation on yourself."
"I didn't intend to, I was just following up when I went to see Reheema."
"You shouldn't have done that, either. It's better left to law enforcement."
Vicki was getting a little sick of hearing that. "I am law enforcement."
"You're a lawyer."
"I'm an AUSA and it's my partner who got killed."
"A loose cannon is what you are," Saxon said, as if it were an official pronouncement, and Vicki finally got mad.
"You know, if I hadn't made any progress, you'd have a point." Suddenly, the emotion, pain, and exhaustion she had been suppressing for two days caught up with her, and Vicki rose to her feet. "But I don't need this. All I know is that Morty's dead, and I'm the one driving around after the bad guys. So excuse me if I don't knuckle under."
"You're way outta line, kid." Saxon rose behind his desk and pointed a thick finger at her. "Does Bale know what you've been up to?"
But Vicki was too angry to answer. She turned her back on him and headed for the door.
"Don't you walk out on me, Allegretti! Answer my question! Does your boss know what you've been doing?"
"Tell you what." Vicki turned on her heel at the threshold. "You go food shopping, and I'll let you know when I get my next lead, okay?"
And she walked out before he could shoot.
When Vicki got home, she took an even greater risk than surveilling a drug dealer or questioning the masculinity of an ATF chief-she called her parents. She wanted to explain about Detective Melvin's call. She pressed in the number and took a fifty-fifty chance that the parent she actually liked would answer. After two rings, her mother picked up. Yes!