Notorious (25 page)

T
he law library in
the U.S. Attorney's Office felt like a vestige from the past, likely to fade sooner rather than later to a mere memory, its place taken by an attorney gym or some such innovation. It held paper books that were virtually never consulted by the current generation of line assistants, who'd grown up doing their legal research on computers.

Jennifer Lamont was something of an anachronism herself. She liked quiet, and she liked the heft of a book in her hand. The old
Federal Reporters
had stiff, gold-embossed bindings that seemed to impart the majesty of the law to her through her fingertips. But since she was one of the few who felt this way, Jennifer was alone in the deserted library this morning with only her tumultuous thoughts for company. When the door banged opened, she therefore understood that the people who entered had come for the purpose of finding her. And since she was not a person with a high opinion of herself, or one who expected to be sought out by her superiors for happy reasons, she immediately feared the worst.

Mark led the group over to the table where she sat, surrounded by
piles of books, stray sheets of yellow legal paper, and the remnants of her Starbucks breakfast.

“Jennifer, I'm glad we found you.” He turned to the man beside him. “Check and make sure the place is empty. Then lock the door. I don't need anybody overhearing this.”

When Jennifer looked at the man Mark had spoken to and recognized him from the hotel elevator last night, her mind went dark. She knew that in a minute she'd be asked to explain herself, but she was as blank as an actress hit with a numbing case of stage fright just as the curtain rises. The long table at which she sat had many chairs. Mark took the one directly across from her, so she knew he would be the chief inquisitor. Melanie and Susan sat down in chairs that were off to the side, out of the line of fire. From this, she gleaned that they would not defend her, and that she would be left to fend for herself.

The chair beside Mark had been left empty for the returning man.

“We're cool, boss,” he said, taking his seat.

He had a folder with him, and a small device that Jennifer thought must play audio. His eyes were full of eagerness, and of something that looked disturbingly like hatred.

“Jennifer,” Mark said, “this is Special Agent Tommy Yee of DEA. Agent Yee has replaced Agent West on the Briggs case. We need to ask you some questions. Extremely disturbing information has come to light suggesting that you have been passing sensitive information to the defense. We need to hear from you right now on exactly what you've done.”

Jennifer went hot and cold at the same time, and lost all control over her actions. All she could think of was escape. Before she was even aware of forming a clear intention, she'd leaped up, sent her chair crashing over behind her, and bolted for the door. Agent Yee was out of his chair in the blink of an eye. He tackled her, bringing her down with a hard crash onto the cheap industrial carpeting. It
smelled of dust and mold. His bulk on top of her squashed all the air out of her lungs. She was choking, her face pressed to the floor, her arms shooting pain as he twisted them around behind her back. She heard the metallic ratcheting noise before she felt the cuffs go on.

“Don't act like you don't like it,” he whispered in her ear. She regretted that her wailing—which she heard coming from somewhere outside her own body—prevented the others from hearing his outrageous insult.

He hauled her to her feet and dragged her back to the table, undoing the handcuffs and locking one end of them to the chair before thrusting her down into the seat. Jennifer was crying, the noise like soft, strangled coughs. She looked at the faces around her for reassurance, but Melanie and Susan looked stricken and embarrassed, while Mark only looked disgusted.

The agent sat beside her this time, ready to grab her if she tried to get up. His heavy breathing sounded like violence and arousal rather than exertion, and Jennifer had enough experience of those reactions from men to recognize the difference.

“We have probable cause to arrest. Read her her rights,” Mark commanded.

“Before I do that, this is for my own protection,” Tommy said, still panting as he reached for Jennifer's free hand and yanked it up onto the table, displaying the red mark that ran all around her wrist. “This is a rope burn from last night. I didn't do this to her. I didn't bust her up, either, so if she has bruises they're not from me. You were all here. You're my witnesses. A devious sneak like her is gonna cry brutality the first chance she gets.”

“We all saw what happened,” Mark said, nodding crisply. “You used necessary force and nothing more. Now read the Miranda.”

Tommy pulled a plastic card from his wallet and recited from it. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to consult
an attorney or have one present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be assigned to you free of charge. Do you choose to waive these rights and talk to us now?”

They all looked at Jennifer. Her chest was heaving, and tears were leaking from her eyes. Humiliation overwhelmed her so completely she couldn't speak. She couldn't imagine speaking ever again.

“I've given this speech a thousand times,” Mark said. “I never thought I'd have to give it to one of my own. Jennifer, we have strong evidence against you. The evidence includes telephone records, surveillance photographs, and a tape of an encounter you had with Evan Diamond last night which not only involved sexual contact, but during which you passed him confidential information. We can charge you with obstruction of justice. We can charge you with conspiracy to commit witness intimidation and witness tampering. We can possibly charge you with conspiracy to commit murder and leaking classified information. You're facing substantial jail time. Nobody at this table has any sympathy for you, and I can assure you no judge or jury will, either.

“Now, having said all that, you're a lucky girl, because I'm here to offer you one last chance to redeem yourself. If you provide us with a full confession, and agree to cooperate and help us make a case against Evan Diamond, we will allow you to plead guilty to reduced charges, and we will provide you with a letter at the time of your sentencing that will release the judge from any mandatory minimum sentences that may apply. I know you understand what I just said because you're a trained attorney. What is your answer?”

There was a long silence. Somewhere, the heat kicked on, and water flowed through a pipe, making a clanging noise that reverberated to Jennifer's bones. She looked back over the long haul of her bitter life and realized that she'd never been happy—never, not for an instant—except for the few brief hours she'd spent in Evan Diamond's company. But she also saw that she meant nothing to him.

She cleared her throat. When she found her voice, it came out small. “Will I be disbarred?”

“Yes. That's certain.”

To lose what she'd worked so hard for, what she'd hung her slim self-worth on, suddenly that seemed like a bigger tragedy to Jennifer than anything else she'd suffered. She wailed, looking up at the ceiling as if to high heaven. “Oh, God! Please! I…want…to…die!”

Mark waited for her sobbing to quiet down before speaking again. “Tom, make a note that suicidal intent was expressed and convey that to the COs when she's brought to MCC. Look here, Jennifer, there's no easy way out of this. You're young, and you're not going to die for a long time. Once you're remanded, the MCC will keep you under special observation to make sure of that.”

“Remanded!”

“Of course.” He had to speak loudly to be heard over her sobbing. “We're not playing games here. Haven't you heard what I've been saying? You're going to jail if you don't cooperate, and you're going
today
. So either do as we ask, or it's time to stop worrying about getting disbarred and start worrying about basic survival. Whining and excuses won't get you anything on the inside. Now what's your answer?”

“What—what would I have to do…against Evan?” she said, wiping her hand across her wet face and quieting.

“Wear a wire. Get him to admit to planning attacks on our witnesses.”

She shook her head, looking down at the table as tears dripped down her nose. “What happens if I can't?”

“Can't or won't?”

“Can't. For whatever reason. I freak out or make a mistake or something.”

“If you come back with nothing, that's a problem,” Mark said.
“Cooperation is judged by results, not by intentions. Otherwise we'd have no basis for determining whether you really tried. People in your position have been known to act with something less than good faith. But I have great confidence in you, Jennifer. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for, or at least, smarter than you pretend to be. We've all seen it in your work, as well as in your ability to deceive us.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, pleading with her eyes as she looked around the table at them. “Please believe me. I got in over my head. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Evan treated me better than any man had in a long time, and I got fooled by that. My judgment was off.”

“That's the understatement of the year,” Mark said. “I'm sure you have your reasons, Jennifer. Save them for the judge on sentencing day. As for us, we judge you by your actions, not your words. We don't want to hear excuses. To set things right in our eyes, you need to take action. Now, what's your answer?”

Jennifer saw that Mark was serious. If she didn't agree here and now to cooperate, she was going to jail. Her mind was muddled with shock, and she couldn't think straight. There was too much pressure. She needed time and space to sort this out. But one thing stood out clearly in the confusion. It wouldn't be fair for Evan to get away with no punishment. If not for him, none of this would be happening to her.

“I guess so. I'll try.”

T
he recording Tommy Yee
had made at the hotel the previous night was a good starting point, but it wasn't the kind of slam-dunk proof they needed to go to the judge. It said too much about the secrets Jennifer
hadn't
managed to leak to Diamond, and not enough about the ones that she had. Ideally, they'd get Diamond on tape discussing their witnesses by name and—in the best-case scenario—admitting to his role in planning the attacks. The entire team agreed Diamond was probably too smart to let himself get caught on tape. Yet, they felt they had to try.

Melanie, along with the rest of the team, headed to the big conference room that had been reserved for the 10
A.M.
meeting. Getting there from the library required taking the elevator up several floors and walking down a long, busy corridor. Tommy Yee removed Jennifer's handcuffs for the journey. A cooperator was useful only so long as the target didn't suspect that she'd turned. Jennifer in handcuffs in her demure business suit would be a shocking sight, certain to stir a tidal wave of gossip that might reach Evan Diamond's ears. Without the handcuffs, she looked like the same eager junior team
member she'd been the day before. Even with the traces of tears still visible on her face, nobody would suspect. Only Melanie and the other team members knew the truth—that they'd unmasked a traitor in their midst. In the conference room, there was no time to dwell on how they'd all been fooled. Melanie shut the door, Tommy replaced the handcuffs on Jennifer's wrists, and they set about brainstorming ideas for the undercover operation.

“Do we try a phone call or an in-person meeting?” Mark asked from his seat at the head of the table.

“Why not both?” Melanie said. “Isn't that normally what you'd do with an undercover drug buy, Tommy?”

“Yeah, first we get the target on the phone setting up the meeting. We arrange the meeting for a location we can access ahead of time so it can be rigged with hidden cameras. Then we film it and, if we get good stuff on film, give the arrest signal and move in for the bust.”

They hashed out the details and decided that Jennifer should attempt to place a monitored, recorded telephone call to Diamond right away, setting up an assignation for later that night. If he fell for it, she should arrange to meet him at her apartment rather than at a hotel. DEA would go into her apartment ahead of time and set up hidden cameras in every room. Tommy and a few other agents would monitor the meeting from an undercover van parked near Jennifer's apartment. When they had enough evidence on tape, they'd move in and make the arrest.

“Here's something we need to know,” Tommy said, turning to Jennifer. “Does Diamond carry? Should we expect him to be armed?”

But she didn't answer. Conflict was written on her face so starkly that every person in the room had to doubt whether she had the resolve to carry out the plan.

“Jennifer, answer the question
now,
” Mark snapped.

Jennifer started to cry again, tears and makeup running down her splotchy face.

“I've seen illiterate peasants fresh off the boat make better cooperators than her,” Mark said. “I'm getting fed up.”

“You want me to take her to court and get her remanded, boss?” Tommy asked.

Jennifer wailed louder.

“No!” Melanie exclaimed. “If Jennifer doesn't make these tapes, what happens? We go to trial on Briggs like nothing ever happened, and let Diamond get away with witness tampering and possible involvement in killing a federal agent?”

“I don't like it, either, but look at her.” Mark threw his hands up toward Jennifer, who continued to sob.

Mark had been playing the hard-ass bad cop all morning. Looking at Jennifer's decimated face, Melanie decided she could use a dose of good cop. A renegade AUSA was virtually unheard of, and everybody in the room felt personally betrayed by Jennifer. Nobody had reached out to build rapport—the most basic interrogation technique. Despite what she knew about Jennifer's troubled past, Melanie didn't have an ounce of sympathy in her heart for a woman who would pony up government witnesses to her lover to be killed. But if it would help the case, she could fake it.

“Let me talk to her,” Melanie said.

“What?”

“Tommy can stand guard outside the door. Leave us alone and let me talk to her.”

Jennifer was intrigued enough by this suggestion to look up and nod.

“All right,” Mark said, standing up. “I suppose you can't make matters any worse.”

The others filed out of the room, leaving Melanie and Jennifer alone. A box of tissues sat on the credenza. Melanie retrieved it and came to sit beside Jennifer, handing her one.

“I can't even imagine what it feels like to be you right now,” she
said gently as Jennifer wiped her eyes. “I thought I should get Mark out of the room. You looked like you needed a chance to clear your head.”

“He's putting so much pressure on me,” Jennifer said, still sniffling.

“I see that.”

“I screwed up. I know that. It was wrong to sleep with a defense lawyer.”

“That's not the problem here. You know that, right? You gave him information that was probably used in planning attacks on government witnesses. You passed forged phone records to Susan—”

“You know about that?”

“Yes. That seems the least of it now, but it is a solid obstruction-of-justice charge with devastating proof. Based on the phone records alone, you'll be fired, disbarred, prosecuted, and you could do jail time.”

“Oh, God!”

“You didn't screw up by yourself, Jen. You had a lot of help. Diamond lured you into it.”

“It's not true.”

“Are you in love with him? Is that why you wouldn't tell Tommy whether he carries a gun?”

Jennifer looked down at the crumpled Kleenex in her hand. “He hates Evan. I could tell from the way he talked about him. He'll say he saw a gun and use it as an excuse to start shooting.”

“Does
Evan carry a gun?”

“Yes. A revolver. He wears it in an ankle holster.”

Melanie put her hand on the girl's. “Jennifer, you need to face reality. Your average defense lawyer does
not
walk around with a gun strapped to his ankle.”

“All the agents have guns.”

“They're law enforcement.”

“I thought it was sexy.”

Melanie wanted to slap her, but she'd keep her eye on the ball.

“Diamond's ruining your life. He's gotten you in terrible trouble. Can't you see that, Jen?”

“Sometimes. But then I think that if I go through with this, he could get shot. I could never forgive myself.”

“What about the people he's hurt? Don't you care about them?”

“If I believed it was true. You could be wrong. You don't know for sure.”

Jennifer's eyes welled up again. Melanie needed to make her see that Diamond didn't deserve her loyalty. There was one surefire way to accomplish that. She'd used it in cases where girlfriends had key testimony to offer but were too attached to their men to speak out against them. Show the woman that her lover was untrue, and suddenly her resistance to testifying melted away. Luckily, in this case, Melanie had proof at her fingertips.

“Do you think Diamond really cares about you, or is he just using you?” Melanie asked.

“I understand it must look that way to you. But we have a connection that I've never felt with anyone else. He feels it, too, I know he does,” Jennifer insisted, but there was enough desperation in her voice that she didn't seem to believe her own words.

“He has other women,” Melanie said. “Don't you know that? And I don't mean his wife.”

Jennifer didn't answer, but the stubborn set of her jaw suggested she didn't want to know.

“We've analyzed his phone records, Jen,” Melanie went on. “Not the fakes he gave you to pass along to us, but the real ones. He was calling other women besides you. For example, last night after the two of you left the hotel, he placed a call to a woman who Tommy Yee later identified as the hostess from the bar where he met you. And he went and met her for a drink.
After
the two of you had sex.”

Jennifer's eyes widened like she'd been hit in the gut. “How do you know?”

“Tommy followed him, and we have the phone records. Do you want to see them?”

Jennifer looked away. “No.”

“Because you need to know that this is true.”

“I saw him get her number. I believe you.”

“I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you that,” Melanie said.

Jennifer said nothing.

“Diamond deserves what he gets. Not only for the way he's used you, but because of all the other people he's hurt as well. I'm certain that he ordered the attack on Vashon Clark. Right before the attack, Vashon was told there was a twenty-thousand-dollar bounty on his head. The word inside the MCC is that that came from Atari's camp.”

“That doesn't mean Evan was involved.”

“Jennifer, open your eyes.”

“I don't believe it.”

“Well, you should. There's good evidence. And not only that, but we have reason to believe Diamond was involved in the murder of Papo West. Do you see what the stakes are here? You could be charged with conspiracy to murder a federal agent.”

“You're making this up.”

“No, I'm not.”

Melanie saw that they'd reached an impasse, and that it would take something dramatic to shake Jennifer from her self-imposed blindness. She got up and flung open the door.

“Tommy, do you have that file with all the surveillance photographs? I need it.”

Tommy Yee handed Melanie the file. She brought it back to the table. Jennifer watched with tremendous concentration as Melanie shuffled through the folder.

She placed the surveillance photo of the redheaded man with the boxer's face on the table facing Jennifer and locked eyes with the girl.

“This is the man who we believe murdered Papo West. Tell me who he is.”

Jennifer looked at the picture and went so pale that Melanie thought she might faint.

“You know him, Jennifer. That much is obvious. Things will go much better for you if you tell me. Who is he?”

“His name is Alexei. I don't know his last name. He's Evan's driver.”