The assistant DA lost his place in this spiel which smacked of rehearsal. Though Mallory hardly moved, even a dense fool like Crane must realize that she really wanted to hurt him, and pain could only be moments away.
The lawyer pulled back and stood closer to Coffey as he made a show of straightening his tie. Then Crane’s lip curled up on one side, and Riker wondered if that little gesture of contempt had been perfected in a shaving mirror.
„It was a clear accident,“ said Crane. „The man dropped his handcuff key. Any idiot could see that. So why do I have to explain these simple facts to a cop? The next time you drag me out on a crime scene, you get your facts straight. Use your head. Open your eyes. Do you understand vat, Detective?“
Tomorrow morning, Mallory would become the joke of the district attorney’s office. This time, she would eat the humiliation – or maybe not. She was rising off the chair, but Riker had a tight grip on the back of her trench coat.
Jack Coffey’s expression was close to evil, almost a Mallory smile. „Riker, what do you think you’re doing? If she wants to deck the weasel, that’s her call.“
Riker’s hand dropped away, and he turned his eyes upward to study the neon sign over the door, as if the word EXIT might be a difficult read.
And now it was Mallory’s turn to smile.
„Wait, I changed my mind.“ Coffey stabbed the assistant DA with two fingers to the man’s chest, pushing him back a step. „You’re a real screwup, Crane. I saw the evidence – all of it.“ He jabbed the man’s chest again for emphasis. „I say she’s got a case. You’re too stupid or too scared to run with it.“
The lawyer’s face was going slack. He was sliding into shock, and with good reason. In the hierarchy of cops and prosecutors, this should not be happening to him.
„This is obviously your first day on the job,“ said Coffey. „So I’m not gonna list your mistakes in my report. If I did, your boss would ask me why I didn’t kick your sorry ass.“
What mistakes?
Riker knew the district attorney would never side with Jack Coffey. Come morning, the chief prosecutor would be all over the lieutenant for this transgression. It was policy and common practice to use cops for punching bags when the young princes of the DA’s office were thwarted or merely miffed. And a seasoned lawyer would know that. So it probably was Crane’s first day on the job.
And now Riker recognized this tango of brazenly shifting guilt and leading with a mouthful of lies. Lieutenant Coffey was taking lessons from Mallory.
They were all doomed.
Coffey glanced at his watch. „Tell you what, Crane. I’m gonna give you a ten-second running head start.“
The lieutenant moved toward the lawyer, and Crane retreated, no longer puffing out his chest in a last-ditch effort to convey the idea that he was still in charge. He was clearly confused, probably wondering what he had missed, what error he had made – the hallmark of a green ADA. Lieutenant Coffey had pegged the lawyer right; he was a weasel, and now the man was slinking away, gently closing the stage door behind him. In Riker’s lights, this was a good omen. If Crane intended to get even, if revenge was in his mind, the door would have slammed.
A clear win.
Coffey was facing the stage as he spoke to Mallory. „You’ve got nowhere to go with this case. It wasn’t a perfect murder, but damn close.“ He watched the medical examiner’s men reuniting the body parts in a long black zippered bag. „You got zero chance of Prado confessing to conspiracy. And no physical evidence of murder. Now Malakhai’s a certified card-carrying lunatic. Suppose you got a confession from him? A madman’s testimony is no good, not against himself or anyone else.“
Mallory’s hands unfolded and relaxed on the arms of the wooden chair. Her voice was listless. „If we could get this case in front of a jury, I could diagram the whole thing.“
Coffey shook his head. For the first time, he seemed reluctant to win an argument with her. „It all hangs on your testimony, Mallory. Nick Prado will kill your credibility if he hangs this death on you.“ He pulled on his raincoat as the gurney moved past the desk, pushed along by the medical examiner’s men. „I’m sorry you couldn’t save that old guy. I’m glad you tried.“ The lieutenant watched the progress of the rolling body bag until it had cleared the stage door. „Mallory? If I’d given you the manpower you wanted – “
„It wouldn’t have made any difference.“ She rested her head on the back of the chair. „It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.“
Coffey turned away from her and walked out the stage door.
Riker inched his chair closer to Mallory. „You really blew it, kid. If you’d said it was Coffey’s fault, you could’ve used that on him down the road. Nothin’ like guilt in the bank.“ He put his hand on her forehead. „Are you feeling okay?“
She brushed him away.
„No fever,“ said Riker. „Well, your old man always said you’d grow up to be a class act. I guess that’s the only explanation.“
So this was her idea of payback for nailing the weasel. And Jack Coffey had done that with style, a smooth beau geste without a drop of sweat or a blink – all to save Mallory’s face. It was damn near romantic.
Of course, the stress would make the rest of Coffey’s hair fall out overnight, but he would still be beautiful to Riker in the morning.
Mallory pulled her gun from the holster and set it down on the desk. „What else have we got? Anything? I bet no one remembers seeing Malakhai in the theater, right?“
„No one can put him on the scene.“ Riker never took his eyes off her gun. A suicide watch was standard practice for a cop involved in a bloody killing, but Mallory would get no such service for an accidental death.
„What about motive for the first one? You think Oliver Tree really knew how Louisa died?“
„No, he was just a nice old man.“ She picked up the gun and turned it over in her hands. „But he was brave, wasn’t he? All those arrows.“
„Yeah, he was.“ Riker understood how much Oliver Tree had meant to her. But she was already on a first-name basis with the new corpse, Franny Futura, and that worried him. There was a possessive quality to the way she pronounced his name.
She was not done yet.
„You did good. It’s not your fault that – “ And now he watched her pull back the hammer on her revolver. „Mallory, you know Coffey’s right. There’s nothing more you can do.“
Certainly nothing legal.
His eyes were still on the revolver in her hands. Even without his glasses, the damage to the firing pin was obvious. Though he would wonder about that for a long time to come, he would never ask how it had happened. He put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed it lightly. „You’re only human, kid.“
Mallory smiled. „But you’re not really sure about that, are you, Riker?“ She slid the broken gun into her holster. „Drive me home?“
„Sure thing. You wanna change clothes?“
„Something like that.“
The long room was paneled in dark wood. Plush red leather couches and chairs were arranged in conversational groupings, and the far wall was lined with bottles and a long mirror above the mahogany bar. For lack of customers, a cocktail waitress passed the time in low conversation with the bartender. They were too far away to be overheard.
Mallory stood near the archway of the lounge, facing the wide dining room entrance across a narrow hallway. She watched the waiter’s progress through the many tables set with crystal and linen, wine and food. The man had not yet found Malakhai among the patrons at this private party.