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still be just.  It wouldn't.

I rose from the couch, kissing the top of his head.

"You're heading out?"  he asked, surprised.  "I thought you'd stay for

dinner."

"Not tonight.  But don't worry.  I'm good."

Before I could even take out my cell phone to call the impatient pager,

the device hummed again, this time to the number we used to dial into

the office voice mail system, followed by my extension.  Apparently

someone wanted me to check my messages.

It was Russ Frist.  "Don't ignore your pager again, Kincaid.  Next time

it might be a murder call-out.  I know you're officially off the case,

but I wanted to let you know that Duncan called me.  He met with the

bigwigs all afternoon and laid out where we stand.  The agreement is to

ask the defense to stipulate to a continuance while the Attorney

General's corporate affairs department investigates Gunderson.  I'll

let you know if I hear anything else."

He left his home number in case I needed anything.  "Oh .. . and I'm

assuming you're coming back to work tomorrow.  I noticed you took the

pictures from your cork board, but maybe you're out buying new frames

for them with your time off."

I would indeed be in tomorrow, but I wasn't going to wait for the AG's

office to do something.  I may have gotten kicked off of the Jackson

case, but I wasn't going to stand by while Duncan and the bureau found

a way to ignore whatever Gunderson and Clarissa had been up to.  I hit

the 9 button on my keypad to save Russ's message, just in case I needed

him later.

Fifteen.

If I was going to get any answers, I needed more information so I could

ask the right questions.  I drove straight to City Hall.

I had just missed closing time, and security wouldn't let me in.  But I

got lucky.  Clarence Loutrell actually answered when I called his

office.

"Judge Loutrell, it's Samantha Kincaid from the District Attorney's

Office."

"Oh, sure, from the other day.  Yes, well, would you mind calling

tomorrow morning?  My secretary left for the day.  I picked up because

I was expecting my wife."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid it can't wait."

"Unless it's a real emergency, I'm afraid it's going to have to.  I was

just about to head home for the evening.  Promised to help at the house

with some things.  You know."

Actually, I didn't, since I did just about everything myself.  But

Loutrell didn't need to hear about my domestic issues.

"That's fine.  I'll call tomorrow," I said.  Too bad for him, he didn't

know I'd already checked with security.  After five, all employees had

to exit through the Fourth Avenue doors.  I planted myself on a bench

across the street in the park, hoping he meant it when he said he was

leaving soon.

As it turned out, he must have walked out right after we hung up.  I

jaywalked across traffic to catch up with him at the corner, pulling

out a copy of Clarissa's memo from my briefcase while I walked.  He

didn't hide his dismay when he saw me.

"I'm sorry, but I really do need to speak to you.  I'll talk as you

walk to the car if I have to."  I handed him the copy of the memo.

"Apparently Clarissa had a discussion with Dennis Coakley about an

appeal filed by Gunderson Development.  She cared about it enough to

lock a copy of the file and this memo in a safe deposit box.  I need to

know why she took such a special interest in the case, and I thought,

as chief administrative judge, you might have some idea."

I left out the fact that Nelly overheard him with Coakley arguing over

whether to tell me about it.  Nelly said that Loutrell sounded like he

wanted to talk to me, so I hoped I could get what I needed without

diming Nelly up.

"I'm sorry, but if Clarissa had such a discussion with Dennis and I'm

neither confirming nor denying that she did the conversation would

clearly be privileged."  He was walking so quickly I had to alter my

stride to a slow jog.

"And, I'm sorry, Judge Loutrell, but now Clarissa's dead."

"Attorney/client privilege survives the client's death."  I got the

impression he was parroting back the words he'd heard from Coakley.

"It does, but unlike the City Attorney, you never represented Clarissa

Easterbrook.  You're just her coworker.  Even if her conversations with

Coakley were privileged, what you know is fair game if she came to you

about her concerns first."

He knew I was right about the law.  On the other hand, he was still

thinking through what Coakley might say in response.  One more push

would do it.

"If it makes a difference, I already know, but I need confirmation."

That one always worked on my junkie drug informants, and it was enough

at least to get him to stop walking.  "Clarissa was biased on the

appeal.  She ruled for Gunderson as a favor of some kind.  That's why

she recused herself from a case filed by Grice Constuction.  Grice was

complaining about unfairness in the urban rehabilitation project, and

Clarissa knew from personal experience that at least one company was

getting preferential treatment."

Still nothing.  If the push didn't do it, maybe a shove would.

"I can have a grand jury subpoena at your house this evening, but I

really don't think that's going to be necessary."

I pictured him imagining the scene at home tonight if I followed

through on my threat and his wife were to learn that it was

preventable.

"All you need is confirmation?"

"Yep."  I couldn't believe I was actually going to get it.

And, sure enough, I didn't.  "Well, too bad," he said.  "I can't

confirm something so completely ridiculous.  She may have talked to

Coakley about the case, but you are entirely off base.  My God, what

you're suggesting is offensive."

See how that works?  In the course of denying the part of my theory

that surprised him, he had confirmed the rest of it.

"But she did talk to Coakley about the Gunderson case.  Why?"

He looked at his watch, looked at me, then rolled his eyes.  "Coakley

can be nuts about privilege for reasons I don't always understand.  But

you're right.  She came to me first.  She said she had something she

needed to talk to me about.  She'd ruled on a case a few months earlier

without realizing that the claimant had donated money to her husband's

hospital wing.  If she'd known about the potential conflict at the time

the case was assigned to her, she should've recused herself.  I told

her to talk to Coakley to see if he wanted to reopen the case.  I won't

tell you that part of the conversation, since he thinks it's

privileged, but, let's just say that the Gunderson case wasn't

reopened, and Clarissa recused herself from the Grice matter because of