on her shoulders and forced her to look in his eyes.
'You had to.'
'You don't understand. I wanted to kill him. I couldn't stop. My arms just kept moving.'
'Amanda, listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong. The man you killed was Manuel Castillo, an enforcer for Pedro Aragon. It was him or you.'
Mike was about to say something else when a man knocked on the doorjamb. He was an African American with glasses and a sturdy build, and Greene had never seen him before.
'I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Greene, but I'd like a few words with Miss Jaffe.'
'Who are you?' Greene asked.
'J. D. Hunter. I'm with the FBI.'
'Can't this wait for later?'
'I've been informed that Ms. Jaffe had been kidnapped by one of her assailants.' Mike stared at Amanda. 'Kidnapping is a federal crime.'
'What's he talking about?' Mike asked.
Amanda put a hand on Mike's arm. 'It's okay, Mike. Let me talk to him.'
'I'd like to question Miss Jaffe alone, if you don't mind.'
Mike knew that he had no business being in the room, but he didn't want to leave Amanda. She flashed him a tired smile.
'I'm still a lawyer. I know how to protect myself.'
Amanda squeezed his hand and watched as he left the room.
'Who called you?' Amanda asked as soon as the door closed behind Greene.
'Sean McCarthy,' Hunter said.
'It seems like a funny thing to do, calling in the feds at this point.'
Hunter laughed. 'You don't miss a thing, do you? I heard you were sharp.'
'So, what's this really about?'
'I'm afraid I can't tell you, not yet. But I'd appreciate it very much if you'd take it on faith that Jon Dupre may benefit from my investigation.'
Amanda thought about that for a moment. 'Ask your questions.'
'Tell me about the kidnapping.'
Amanda took a deep breath. Her kidnapper was dead but her emotions hadn't fully accepted that yet.
'I was captured in my parking garage a few days ago. The man in the basement and the two dead men in the living room took me out in the woods. They threatened to . . . to do things to me.'
Amanda stopped, unable to repeat Castillo's threats.
'Do you know why you were kidnapped?'
Amanda nodded. 'They wanted me to throw the cases against Jon Dupre.'
'From what I've heard, they're easy cases to win. Why would Pedro Aragon have to fix them?'
Amanda hesitated. There were policemen, a senator, lawyers, and judges in The Vaughn Street Glee Club. Why not an FBI agent? Amanda closed her eyes. She didn't care anymore. After what had happened this evening, she decided that her best defense was to make what she knew about the club public. Keeping quiet had almost gotten her father killed.
'Despite the way things look, Jon Dupre may be innocent of both murders,' Amanda said. 'I'm certain that Wendell Hayes was sent to the jail to murder Jon and that he, not Jon, smuggled the shiv into the visiting room.'
Amanda watched for Hunter's reaction and was surprised to see none.
'Who do you think sent Hayes to kill your client?'
'Have you ever heard of a group called The Vaughn Street Glee Club?'
'Yes, but I'm impressed that you have. Why don't you tell me what you know about them.'
'I think Pedro Aragon met Wendell Hayes in nineteen seventy when they were in their teens or early twenties and formed a pact to help each other. I think some of Hayes's childhood friends were part of the group. Over the years, Wendell and his friends rose to power and they drafted new recruits into their club. If I'm right, there are bankers, judges, politicians, district attorneys, and police involved. How am I doing?'
'Keep going, Miss Jaffe,' Hunter responded noncommittally.
Amanda told Hunter about the evidence that pointed to Senator Travis as the man who murdered Lori Andrews. Then she told the agent Jon Dupre's version of the Hayes killing and the evidence that supported it, including Paul Baylor's opinion that Dupre had been attacked.
'My investigator has discovered two suicides going back many years, which may have been murders committed by these people. But I think that the real reason they want to shut me up is that I filed a motion for discovery for the police reports in a multiple murder in a drug house that occurred in nineteen seventy. Here's the kicker: The drug house was on Vaughn Street.'
