that Parver was still there. He ambled back to her cubbyhole and stood in the doorway with his hand stuffed in his pockets.
'Good news about Darby,' he said. 'I can hardly wait to hear your summation to the jury.'
She looked at him, her face bunched up as if she were in pain. 'Did you hear about Poppy Palmer?'
'It's all over the afternoon editions,' he said. 'I hear Eckling is scorched. He's saying if his department had handled it, the girl never would have been killed.'
'What do you expect? If he'd handled the case, Darby probably would have killed half the county before Eckling got his head far enough out of his ass to figure it out.'
Flaherty whistled low through his teeth. 'You okay?' he asked.
'Why?' she snapped back.
'Hey, excuse me, I should have knocked.' He started to leave.
'Where are you going?' she demanded.
'I don't know, you seem a little…' He paused, searching for the right word. 'Pensive?'
'Pensive?' She considered that and said, half smiling. 'I guess I am a little pensive right now.'
'Can I help?'
She stared up at him from behind her desk for a moment, then wheeled her chair back and stood up. 'How'd you like to go over to Corchran's? I'll buy you a drink.'
'No, I'll buy you a drink.'
'Ah, one of those, huh? Tell you what, Flaherty, I'll toss you for it.'
'You mean, like, throwing coins against the wall?'
'Uh-huh.' She reached into her purse and took out two quarters. She handed him one. 'Back in the computer room, there's no carpet on the floor.'
'You sound like a pro.'
'I have my days.'
They walked back to the computer room and stood ten feet from the bare back wall.
'How do you do this?' he asked innocently.
'They don't pitch quarters in Boston?'
'I rarely had a quarter when I lived in Boston.'
'You just pitch the coin. One who gets closest to the wall wins. Want a practice shot first?'
'Nah, let's just do it. Winner buys?'
'Winner buys.'
'You go first, I'll see how it's done.'
She leaned over, put one hand on her knee, held the coin between her thumb and forefinger, and scaled it side-hand. It hit the wall, bounced back three inches, and spun around several times before it dropped.
'Looks pretty good,' he said.
'Not bad.'
'Like this, huh,' he said, assuming the same stance she had except that he used his left hand.
'You're a southpaw,' she said. 'I never noticed that before.'
'You never noticed a lot about me, Parver,' he answered.
The remark surprised her.
'Just kind of flip it, huh?'
'Uh-huh.'
He leaned way over, held his hand at arm's length, and sighted down his arm, then tossed the coin overhand. It flipped through the air, twanged into the juncture of the floor and wall, and died. There wasn't a quarter of an inch between the coin and the wall.
'What d'ya know,' he said. 'Beginner's luck.'
Parver's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 'You hustled me, Flaherty,' she
