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of hesitation. He couldn t have fired so fast, not looking at a child in his sights. Civilians were not constructed that way. Charles was the soft and
civilized type; such things were not done in his world. So, with his own peculiar courage and backward thinking, he had risked his life to draw fire
and buy her time.
Now Riker and Martin were coming through the door, Martin first, Riker panting behind him, guns drawn. They stared at the hogtied Kipling and the
boy pinned under Mallory.
Riker hunkered down beside her, panting from the run upstairs, fishing for his irons. In another moment the boy s hands were cuffed behind his
back.
How did you get here so fast? she said. It was an accusation.
Well, Charles caught my eye when he streaked by the car. Riker pulled a small device from one ear. Oh, I ve been listening in. I planted a highly
illegal bug in the apartment the last time I was here. I ve learned a lot from you, kid. And now he fingered the fallen drapes on the floor. Very messy,
Mallory. This is so unlike you.
Martin holstered his gun. The reception kept going in and out. Most of the time, all we could hear was this noise like a little engine. So Riker tells
me it s a cat snoring. He thinks I ll buy anything.
Riker nodded her attention toward Charles. You think you could stop him from clicking that thing? It s getting on my nerves.
Mallory stood up and moved quickly to Charles. She used force to pry his fingers off the gun, and then she closed her hand over his to stop the
finger from its spasmodic firing of a gun that was no longer there.
Charles s eyes were locked with the boy s. Justin was still and quiet, turning his eyes away from Charles to look inward. And it was only a little
disturbing that he pouted like a real child, an angry child.
Martin was standing over the hogtied Kipling. Is he dead?
No, said Mallory. He fainted when the gun went off.
Riker and Mallory exchanged words without words. Do I know my perps? she asked with only the lift of her chin. Damn straight, he said with one
thumb up.
Martin was fishing out his cuffs.
Naw, said Riker, putting up one hand to stay Martin. I don t think the cuffs could improve on Mallory s knots. Let s carry Kipling out through the
lobby like that.
Martin grinned. Yeah, I like it. Now Martin stabbed his finger at the blood splatters on the carpet. So, who took the hit?
His answer was crawling slowly across the rug, pulling itself along by its front paws, crying and making its way to Mallory. At last, it lay at her feet,
bleeding on her white running shoes.
What happened to the cat?
I didn t do it, said Mallory.
Mallory, you re going to love this.
Betty Hyde slipped the video cassette into the VCR. The picture was of the judge on the steps of the Coventry Arms. He was flanked by an escort of
two uniformed police officers. A young woman reporter was thrusting a microphone in his face and asking him if it was true that the district attorney
was planning to exhume the body of his mother.
Then the judge advanced on the woman. One fist knocked the microphone out of her hand and the other fist was flung at the cameraman. The
camera lay on the sidewalk shooting the feet of the officers scuffling with the feet of the judge, dragging him back from the feet of the woman
reporter. The audio portion was a woman s screams of You re hurting me, you son of a .
About that police escort with the judge, said Hyde. I don t suppose you could explain that?
I m not sure, Mallory lied. I heard a rumor that some ME investigator implicated a detective in an extortion racket. I think they just wanted to ask the
judge if he had any information on the case. But you didn t get that from me.
Of course not. Thanks for the judge on a platter, said Betty Hyde. Not that I m greedy, but did you dig up anything else that was interesting?
No, Mallory lied again as she continued her packing.
Well, I did. You were right, Mallory. I was holding out on you. Eric Franz is not blind.
Mallory pressed out the wrinkle on a T-shirt before she folded it into her duffel bag. Eric Franz told you that?
Oh no, he denied it for several hours. Actually he spent most of that time getting drunk and reminiscing about Annie. That s the strange part he
really did love her. But the accident was certainly murder if he was sighted, and he didn t
If Franz didn t confess to you, then where is this coming from?
I told you I have spies everywhere.
Mallory folded a pair of blue jeans into the duffel and slowly zipped it shut. Arthur, right? He was on duty the night of the crash. Is he the one who told
you Franz killed his wife?
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