city from doing it, but the guy said he'd lose custody of his kids if
he didn't have a place for them to live. She was worried that if she
called the police about the letters and it turned out that he was only
blowing off some steam, she'd make it even harder for him to keep his
kids."
"Do you know what he did that had her on edge?" I asked.
"Just a couple of letters, I think. Ranting and raving the way a lot
of people do, but something about how she should have to know his pain
someday. I know I agreed with her at the time that it sounded a little
threatening."
"And you don't know whether she did anything in response?"
"No. It alarmed her at first, which was why I suggested she call the
police. I asked her about it a few times after that, but she seemed to
have gotten over it."
I'd had similar experiences. A defendant gets in your face,
and it feels like a conflict that could rip your guts out. By the end
of the week, it's just another story to share at a cocktail party to
distinguish yourself from all the other boring lawyers.
"Is that enough for you to be able to find the file?" she asked.
"Should be," Johnson said. "We'll be sure to follow up on it. What
about Clarissa's personal life? She seem happy in her marriage?"
Susan Kerr leaned back in her chair, took in a deep breath, and smiled
politely. "I was wondering when you'd get to that. Classic, right?
Whenever something goes wrong, it's got to be the spouse. Hell, poor
Herbie died of a heart attack, but don't think I didn't know what some
of his friends were whispering behind my back."
Johnson had clearly dealt with this kind of response before, because he
handled it like a pro. "I know this is upsetting for you, but, as
Clarissa's best friend, you're the one who can be most helpful in
pointing us in the right direction."
"Well, thank you for that, but whatever the right direction is, that
ain't it. If I thought for a second that Townsend had anything to do
with this, I'd be leading the charge. Shit, I love the man, but I'd
probably kill him myself."
"This early in the case, we have to consider every scenario."
"Well, you're on the wrong track. Townsend and Clarissa are a great
team. To the extent she ever complains, it's the stuff every couple
deals with finding enough time for each other, who does the dishes,
boring shit like that. I doubt Townsend's ever raised his voice to
her, let alone what you're thinking. It's just not in him."
Johnson and Walker were polite enough not to roll their eyes. They'd
been around long enough to know what ordinary citizens don't want to
believe you can never tell who has it in them to kill.
It was almost two by the time Johnson and Walker dropped me off
downtown, and I was starving. The rain had finally stopped, so I
walked the two blocks to Pioneer Courthouse Square, got a small
radiatore with pesto from the pasta cart on Sixth and Yamhill, and
headed back to eat at my desk. When I went to erase my sign-out on the
white board I found that anonymous coworkers had written, Shoe
shopping, Back to Hawaii, and Does Kincaid still work here? next to my
original out. The graffiti made me laugh, but I went ahead and erased
it while I was at it.
I hit the speakerphone to check my voice mail but was interrupted by
the rap of fingers against my open door. I swung my chair around to
find Jessica Walters, the only female supervisor in the office and
someone who I was pretty sure had never spoken a word to me during my
tenure as a DDA. As usual, she wore a tailored pantsuit and
oxford-cloth shirt, her trademark pencil tucked neatly behind her
ear.
"Jessica. Hi." My surprise to see her, combined with the more than
mild intimidation she inspired in me, ruined any chance I might have
had at witty repartee. Walters had been a prosecutor for nearly two
decades, put more men on death row than any other DA in the state, and,
as far as I could tell, never had cause to doubt that she was smarter
and quicker than anyone else in a room. She was currently in charge of
the gang unit.
"Welcome to the club, Kincaid. You're the first of your kind up here.
Congratulations."
"Thanks, but I thought you were the first. Weren't you in MCU before
you got your own unit?"
"Yep, was up here for almost ten years. So was Sally Her-ring ton
before she jumped ship to join the dark side. But you're the first
hetero a role model for all the straight women in the office who said
it couldn't be done."
There was a crowd of paranoid younger women in the office who were
convinced that the boss created the appearance of gender fairness in
the office by promoting lesbians who were perceived to be less likely
to rock the cultural boat captained by his buddies. The truth was
sadder. The atmosphere here was so rough, both for women and for
dedicated parents, that the lawyers who were (or intended someday to
be) both of those things requested other "opportunities" in the office.
So-called voluntary transfers to nontrial units like appeals, child
support, and parental terminations became their own kind of
self-imposed mommy track.
If anything was going to kill the conspiracy theory and the office
culture, it was the increasingly rampant rumor that Jessica and her
drop-dead gorgeous partner of nine years were trying to get pregnant. I
couldn't wait to watch a tough guy like Frist wiggle in his seat while
"Nail Them to the Wall" Walters breast-fed her kid during a homicide
call-out. Payback for every time I've had to listen to colleagues
bemoan uniquely masculine complaints like jock itch and beer-goggle
bangs.
"To tell you the truth, I was beginning to wonder what was going on
with you in that department. Now all the support staff can talk about
is you and Forbes. After all the ninnies in this office that guy has
bagged, he's stepping up in the world."
Given my general anxiety about dating a cop, the last thing I needed
was a reminder of the many brief relationships this particular one has
had over the years. If ours turned out to be as fleeting, I might be
known as yet another Forbes conquest.
Jessica must have realized that I didn't take the comment as she
intended it. "I was saying you're a good catch, Kincaid, but I should
probably keep my mouth shut and stick to work. It's a well-deserved
shot you've got here. You're gonna be great."
"Thanks, Jessica. That's really nice of you to say."
"No problem. Just remember, don't let these fuckers give you too much
shit. You'll need to pay your dues at first, but then it's about
carrying your fair share of the load. Don't be afraid to get in their
faces if you need to."