fact that he played only to make her happy.
After I soundly trounced him, he insisted that I begin to shuffle more
thoroughly. I was on my sixth waterfall when I finally brought up my
reason for being out of the office in the middle of the afternoon. I
didn't bog him down in the legal details, but I gave him the gist: I'd
persuaded the defense attorney to raise a stink about a bribe the
victim was taking, and now I'd been tossed off the case.
To his surprise, though, when he started in on Duncan, I
actually defended the decision. "I don't know, Dad. It might've been
for the best. For a first homicide case, it was probably a little too
much for me to handle on my own."
"You were doing the right thing, but it happened to lead you to the
doorstep of some people who don't want a hard-working prosecutor
looking into their business deals. Who knows? Duncan may have pulled
you off because he's in the pocket of this guy what did you say his
name was?"
"Gunderson, Dad. And Duncan can be political, but he's not on the
take."
"You'd be surprised, Samantha. The people who get into a position like
Duncan's most of them would sell their own mothers to get an advantage.
This is exactly what I was worried about. You challenged the wrong
people, and now they won't be happy until your credibility is run into
the ground."
Just then, my pager buzzed. I didn't recognize the number, so I
ignored it.
"No one's trying to ruin my credibility, Dad," I said, shutting off the
signal. "I got removed from one case, and it was because I blew it. I
got so wrapped up in the Gunderson angle that I forgot who the bad guy
was. I used Jackson's defense attorney to prove my hunch was right,
but in the process I handed him a defense theory that might get his
client acquitted."
Dad nodded to appease me, but I could see that he disagreed.
"I can tell something's on your mind, Dad. Go ahead and say it."
He chose his words carefully. "You said you forgot who the bad guy
was, but I don't see what's good about this Gunderson fellow. Even if
you're right and he didn't set up Jackson, that doesn't make him a good
guy."
Now it was my turn to sigh with exasperation. "All I meant was that he
wasn't as bad as Jackson." He looked at me skeptically.
"Oh, come on, Dad. Gunderson slipped a low-level city judge a few
bucks so he could develop some old building. Jackson killed a woman.
There's no comparison."
"But that's how these people get away with things, Sammy. There's
always someone out there who's scarier, who's more threatening. And
every time someone whose heart is in the right place someone like you
finally starts to go after the white-collar types, out comes a bogeyman
to prey on the public's darkest fears. As long as the world's afraid
to walk in their neighborhood at night because of Melvin Jackson, guys
like Gunderson can always say, "Hey, I'm not so bad. The police should
be going after that guy over there.""
"But Jackson is worse. If my probing around Gunderson means Jackson
gets off, it wasn't worth it."
Dad shook his head.
"What?"
"I just don't buy into the assumption that there has to be a trade-off.
That sounds like something Griffith came up with so he could sweep his
pal Gunderson out of the mess you were about to create for him."
"It doesn't have to be a trade-off, Dad. He said he'd make sure the
bureau looked into it."
"But who in the bureau's going to do that? I mean, you're always
talking about how good Chuck is at his job. Will he be the one to work
on it?"
"No," I conceded, "because it's not under MCT's jurisdiction."
"Right," he said. "It'll go to some overburdened detective who's got
his hands full of burgs and car thefts and whatever other property
crimes have been thrown at him. You won't stand a chance of making a
case stick against Gunderson."
This conversation was echoing some of the broader debates we'd had
about the allocation of law enforcement resources.
I knew how frustrated Dad was, for example, that some of the
highest-profile white-collar perps remained unindicted years after
their scandals erupted. And I knew he saw a link between corporate
practices that thwart the American dreams of everyday workers and the
desperation that causes people to rob, sell drugs, or even kill, like
Melvin Jackson. To Dad, economic crimes and street crimes were
inseparable, each feeding the continuation of the other.
"I don't get it, Dad. You originally begged me to stay away from this
case because I might wind up stepping on the toes of someone with
influence. But now it sounds like you want me to go after
Gunderson."
"The only reason I was worried was that I knew something like this
would happen if you started scrutinizing the wrong people. And, sure
enough "
"You told me so?" I said, with a small laugh.
"No," he said, also laughing. "I was worried that if something like
that were to happen, your office wouldn't back you. That's what I
meant when I said 'sure enough." So, yeah, someone needs to go after
Gunderson, but it should be someone who's not going to get hung out to
dry."
My pager buzzed again, the same number as before. Someone was being
terribly pushy, considering I didn't know them well enough to recognize
their phone number.
"Duncan said he'll get the bureau to look into it," I said. For an
attorney who makes her living persuading people I'm right, it was lame.
Even I didn't sound convinced, and, from Dad's expression, he clearly
wasn't either. "OK, so maybe it's going to fall through the cracks," I
conceded. "At this point, I can live with that."
For only the second time in my life, my father looked disappointed in
me. The expression had been there for just a moment,
but it was enough to bring me back to that day in second grade, when
the principal called him after I teased the poorest girl in school for
wearing the same jeans three days in a row.
"What, Dad? What do you expect me to do?"
"I want you to take care of yourself, Samantha. But, in the process,
don't tell yourself something you know isn't true."
"So you want me to be self-interested but mad about it? That's totally
messed up," I said, laughing.
He smiled, but his eyes were still serious. "You've always had a way
of putting things."
And he had always had a way of forcing me to acknowledge the truth. I
knew in my heart that Gunderson wouldn't be indicted, and I had tried
to comfort myself that an ending with Gunderson walking away would