Ties That Bind (11 page)

Frank was only an adequate cook, but he excelled at matzo-ball soup and potato pancakes, his mother’s specialties. When Amanda was a little girl, Frank had prepared these dishes for her as a special treat. When Amanda saw the fixings on the kitchen counter she knew her father was feeling guilty.

“I always thought we got along, and I haven’t heard that the firm needs to downsize,” she said as she chucked her coat onto a chair. “Is there some other reason you want me to die?”

“Now, Amanda . . .”

“Did you tell the Honorable Ivan Robard that I would accept his offer to represent a lawyer killer?”

“No, I did not. I simply said that you were up to the job.”

“So are you. How come you didn’t volunteer to help this poor unfortunate boy?”

“I can’t take the case. I knew Travis. I was in a foursome with him at the Westmont, last week.”

“Oh, I see. You can’t be a human sacrifice because Travis is an old golfing buddy, but I don’t play golf, so I’m fair game. What on earth were you thinking?”

“I had a few reasons for suggesting that Ivan ask you to take the case. There’s the general one about every defendant deserving the best representation possible, and it bothers me that lawyers are refusing to take on this case because they’re scared. But neither of those is the reason I’d like to see you represent Dupre.”

Frank paused. When he spoke, he looked concerned.

“That business last year was awful. You know how proud I am of the way you handled it, but I also know that since the Cardoni case ended you’ve stayed away from cases involving violence. I can see why you’d do that. I wish I could wipe out the bad memories. And I was thinking that maybe one way you can get past what happened is by getting back on the horse.”

Amanda had to admit that since
Cardoni
she had been involved in only a few murder or assault cases, and even there, with the exception of Daniel Ames’s case, she had limited herself to helping other attorneys in the firm with legal research or pretrial motions. She just did not want to see any more violence. And that presented a problem when you were practicing criminal law.

“You’re right, Dad. I have been running scared. But that case . . .” She flashed on the Mary Sandowski video, and a shudder ran through her. “It’s been very hard for me.”

Frank’s heart ached at the memory of what his daughter had gone through.

“I know, kid,” he said, “and I wouldn’t blame you if you tried something else, another area of law. But you’ve got to face up to your fears if you’re going to stick with criminal law. It’s your choice and I’ll support any decision you make, but this is as good a way as any to test yourself if you want to stay with the practice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good, but you can’t do that on an empty stomach. So, enough law. Let’s eat.”

Stamm ran his fingers through his thinning brown hair. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under them. Kerrigan guessed that the DA had slept very little since the Hayes killing.

“I want you on this, Tim. I want Dupre on death row for the murders of Wendell Hayes and Harold Travis.”

This was not what Kerrigan wanted to hear. The case would be huge, but there was Ally Bennett to consider. She hadn’t shown any sign that she knew who he was when they’d had sex at the motel, but his face would be on television and in the newspapers every day if he prosecuted Jon Dupre. What would she do if she discovered who he was? He’d be wide-open to blackmail.

“Can’t someone else handle it?” Tim asked.

Stamm failed to hide his surprise at Kerrigan’s reluctance to prosecute these headline-grabbing cases.

“Your unit had Dupre’s pimping case,” the DA answered, “and you’re already on the senator’s case.”

Kerrigan needed time to think, so he asked a question to divert Stamm.

“Are we even going after Dupre for Travis’s murder? The evidence is skimpy. We don’t have him anywhere near the scene . . . .”

“You’ve got that earring, you’ve got him arguing with Travis the day before the senator was murdered. Besides, it doesn’t matter how much evidence we have in Travis’s case. We’ll piggyback the trials. Go after Dupre for Hayes first. That case is a walk in the park. Dupre was locked in with Wendell. We’ve got an eyewitness. The little prick brought the murder weapon with him to the conference. Proving intent and deliberation will be a snap.”

“If it’s that easy you don’t need me for Hayes. A rookie DA could get a death sentence for a violent pimp under these circumstances.”

“It’s not that simple, Tim.” Stamm leaned forward. “I’ve received a few calls from some very influential people. They told me that you’ve been offered a shot at Harold Travis’s seat.”

Kerrigan stifled a curse. He should have seen this coming.

“These cases will put you in the spotlight for months and, as you just told me, Wendell’s case is open and shut—so simple that a rookie DA could get a death sentence. You couldn’t ask for a better way to get exposure. You’ll have national coverage.”

Kerrigan wanted to turn down the case but what excuse would he give Jack? He couldn’t tell him about Ally Bennett.

“Can we resolve the case with a plea?” Kerrigan asked. “There’s no defense in Wendell’s case. His lawyer is going to offer a plea in exchange for a life sentence.”

Stamm shook his head. “We don’t plead this one. That little punk killed a United States senator. Then he had the audacity to murder one of the state’s most prominent attorneys in our own fucking jail. I’m sorry, Tim, but my mind’s made up. This son of a bitch invaded our home. He’s going to death row and you’re going to take him there.”

“Sure.”

“There’s a rumor that you’ve been tapped to prosecute Jon Dupre.”

“It’s not a rumor,” Kerrigan sighed. “I’m it.”

Maria focused all of her energy on Kerrigan.

“I want to second-chair. I want a chance to help put him away.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Who knows more about Dupre than me? I’ll be able to tell you who’ll make a good witness in the penalty phase, where to find everything you need to show future dangerousness.” She tapped her temple. “It’s all up here, ready to go. Anyone else will need to spend hours finding out what I can tell you right now.”

What Maria said was true, but she had no experience in trying a death-penalty case. On the other hand, her passion would help her put in the sixteen-hour days, seven days a week, that were standard operating procedure when you were asking the state to execute a human being.

“Alright,” he said. “You’ve got it. You’re second chair.”

Lopez grinned. “You won’t regret this, boss. We’ll get Dupre, I promise you. We’ll put him down.”

“So,” Curtin said, “are you going to explain why you’re interfering with my twenty-eighth viewing of
Predator,
starring my all-time favorite action hero, Jesse ‘The Body’ Ventura?”

“I need your advice.”

“Of course you do.”

Curtin emptied the pitcher and signaled for another. In college, Tim had seen “Huge” chug a pitcher with no ill effects.

“I had my monthly dinner with my father at the Westmont.”

“And survived.”

Tim nodded. “We didn’t dine alone. He invited Burton Rommel and Harvey Grant.” He paused. “The party wants me to run for Harold Travis’s seat in the next election.”

Curtin paused with his mug halfway to his lips. “You’re kidding!”

“Don’t you think I could do it?” Kerrigan asked anxiously.

“Of course you could do it. Look at the morons who’ve served in Congress. It’s just a shock. Fuck, if you became a senator I’d have to be civil to you. You could have the IRS audit my goddamn taxes.”

Kerrigan smiled.

“The real question is,
should
you do it? There’s a ton of prestige that goes with the position, and the chance to do a lot of good for a lot of people. But being a senator is a twenty-four-hour-a-day job. You’d never be home. Megan would miss you. You’d miss a lot of her growing up. Still, the chance to be a United States senator . . . It’s a tough call. What does Cindy want you to do?”

“She wants me to run.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any question about what your old man wants?”

“He wants me to go for the gold. I thought the top of his head was going to pop off when I didn’t jump at the offer.”

“But you told him you’re thinking about it?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want him to have a coronary.”

“It would mean a lot to him, Tim.”

“Yeah, he could brag about having a senator in the family.”

“He wants what’s best for you.”

“He wants what’s best for William Kerrigan.”

“You’re being hard on him.”

“He’s a hard man. He always has been. No matter what I did it was never enough. Not even winning that goddamn trophy. It became so much tin to him when I didn’t go pro and cash in.

“And he was never around when Mom was dying.” Tim took a drink, then continued. He looked down at the tabletop. “I always suspected that he was spending time with one of his women. I still can’t imagine it. My mother is wasting away from cancer and he’s balling some bimbo.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, not for certain. But he sure married number two fast enough.”

Kerrigan could never bring himself to say the name of the woman who had succeeded his mother as mistress of the house.

“Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m being unfair to him, but what business deal could be so important that he couldn’t put it off? Mom was dying, for Christ’s sake. He knew she only had a little time left. Didn’t he want to spend it with her?”

“So Cindy wants you to run,” Hugh said to distract his friend. “Your father wants you to run and the party wants you to run. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know if I can handle being a senator.” Hugh could see the pain in his friend’s eyes. “Why me, Huge?”

“I’m going to tell you the answer, but you won’t like it.”

“That’s why I’m asking you. You’re always straight with me.”

“They’re asking you because they think you can win and that’s all that counts in politics. And they think you can win because you’re ‘The Flash.’ And it’s time you got comfortable with the fact that ‘The Flash’ is always going to be part of who you are, whether you like it or not. It’s almost ten years since you got the Heisman. I know you think you didn’t earn it, but there are a lot of people—including me—who think you did. And it’s about time you came to grips with that and moved on.

“Look at it this way. This is a chance to start from scratch, to do some good, to see if you really are ‘The Flash.’ And I think that’s what scares you. You’re worried that you’ll win and won’t be able to handle the job.

“You’ve heard me quote Oliver Wendell Holmes more than once. ‘Life is passion and action and each man must take part in the passion and action of his times at peril of being judged not to have lived.’ I believe that. You’ve been hiding in the DA’s office trying to avoid being noticed, but you’ve got to come out sometime. It’ll be scary, pal. You’ll be risking failure. But who knows, maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”