Page 93 of Fish in a Barrel
And with that the two of them burst out of the room. Jackson paused to let the lawyer in, bowing and gesturing like a maître d’, and Ellery met the lawyer’s eyes and said, “We were discussing another matter. The interview was recorded, so you can see for yourself.”
“If you dare,” Jackson added, and the two of them moved to the observation room.
“What do you need?” Fetzer asked.
“Is your lieu going to press charges?” Ellery queried.
Fetzer and Hardison shrugged. “Probably not,” Hardison replied. “She’s weak sauce. I was hoping it was green and new back in August, but it’s weak shit. I can say it now.”
“Then leave someone here to deal with the paperwork,” Jackson said. “We’re going to go interview Brentwood and see if we can get a bead on the sniper who killed Charlie Boehner, and we will probably need backup.”
Fetzer and Hardison both pulled in a breath. “This piece of shit knows who killedBoehner?” Fetzer asked. “And he wasn’t going to tellyou? Isn’t that obstruction of justice?”
“A charge we just sacrificed,” Ellery said wearily, “because we have the feeling this guy isn’t done.”
Jackson had known that, from the very beginning when they’d made plans to corner Cartman and question him. But unlike Cartman, their priority wasn’t putting people in jail. It was saving their lives.
“Then it’s decided,” Fetzer said. “You go talk to whoever you need to talk to and tell us where you think the sniper’s going next. We’ll meet you there. We know your guy Henry on sight. Is there anyone else we should look out for?”
“We were going to tag Christie and de Souza,” Jackson said, starting to move toward the door. “I’ll blast everybody when we know.”
And with that, he followed Ellery out into the corridor and back toward the elevators, knowing that Fetzer and Hardison had just signed on for hours of unnecessary paperwork and hassle on their say-so.
There had better not be any more dead bodies on their watch.
Things We Cannot Control
ELLERY KEPTan eye on Jackson as he piloted the Lexus back toward their American River neighborhood. They’d called Brentwood’s paralegal, and she’d said the judge was working from home that day, and she’d postponed the trial he’d had scheduled to begin. It was a rare move—the wheels of justice may have turned slowly on a normal day, but when a judge didn’t show up for work, they ground rapidly to a halt.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a couple of uncomfortable moments that he’d used to negotiate the tricky turn onto J Street.
“For what—oh!” Jackson’s sudden surprise told Ellery that he reallydidn’thold Ellery’s command for him to strip against him. But he should have.
“I’m sure you’re tired of being used as an object lesson,” Ellery said, intent on getting his full repentance out now. “I mean, the first time, you walked into the courtroom knowing what was going to happen, but this time….” He shook his head. It would have been forgivable if Cartman hadn’t been such a pile of excrement.
“It got to him,” Jackson said softly. “I hadn’t expected it would. Your description was… chilling, Counselor.”
Ellery shuddered. “Well, I’ve had to look at it for the last four days and realize how close I came—again—to losing you.”
“Not so close,” Jackson reminded him. “There was backup and a plan and contact with you. All the good things.”
Ellery knew this, but unreasonably, hearing it still helped to calm him down. “Except you getting hurt again.”
Jackson let out a little chuckle. “It’s weird. All the times I’ve been hurt, and hurt worse, and this wound gets all the attention. You know why?”
“Because you’re still up and moving around?”
Jackson put his finger on his nose. “Yahtzee. I’m still up and moving around. I’m calling it a win, or at least I will if the damned sniper doesn’t take out a scumbag. I mean, not that I’d mind if Goslar tripped on the cement and fell on a rake or something, but a sniper would make him look like an actual police officer, and that would be a fuckin’ shame.”
Ellery nodded. “Yeah. But still, I’d rather the sniper gunned him down than came after us.”
“Just remember, if the cops find the sniper, there won’t be much left of him or her to pin Cartman with. If we find the sniper, we get to defend them in court, and guess what happens then?”
Ellery felt his lips twist and was surprised he had a smile—a real one—in him this morning. “We get to make Cartman’s scumbaggery public,” he said, liking that idea very much.
“God, wouldn’t that be nice. Maybe we can give Arizona’s source at the press an exclusive. See? So worth it.”
“Sure.”
