But she had a brief to be filed and she decided to take it herself rather than have her secretary do it. Then she would drop in on Vail. Why not? Her memory jumped back to an afternoon ten years earlier when Vail had shown up unannounced, in the same office that was then hers; how she had suddenly realized while they were talking that she was breathing a little faster and paying more attention to him than to what he was saying. Ten years and she still remembered that brief encounter when she had first realized that she was attracted to the rough-and-tumble, sloppy, shaggy-haired courtroom assassin.
He had slicked up a bit since then: the hair was a little shorter and his suits weren't so bagged-out, but the cutting edge was still there, just under the surface. Even as a prosecutor he was a gambler, unlike most of the lawyers she knew, who were more concerned with how close to the corner of the building their office was and what kind of car to move up to next.
Then she laughed at herself.
She stuffed the brief in her attache case and headed out the door.
On the fourth floor of the Criminal Courts Building, Abel Stenner burst out of his office and raced towards Naomi's desk.
'My God, Abel, what set you on fire?' she asked.
'Is he busy?' Stenner asked, ignoring her question.
'He's on the phone with - '
'Won't wait,' Stenner cut her off, and entered the office with Naomi trailing close behind. Vail was sitting in his chair with his back to the door, blowing smoke into the exhaust fan. He wheeled around when Stenner entered, took one look at his chief investigator, and knew something was up.
'I'll call you back,' he said, and put down the phone.
'They made a bust in the Delaney case,' Stenner announced.
'Already? Who?' Naomi asked with surprise.
'His executive secretary. Fifty-three years old. Crippled husband, daughter in college.'
'Sweet Jesus. How did they nail her so quickly?' Naomi said.
'Shock must've been on the case,' Vail answered.
'You're right. Called me from his car. They had just Mirandized her and she came out with it. Said it twice. 'I killed him.' They're bringing her in now. Murder one.'
Vail whistled slowly through his teeth.
'Why'd she do it?' Naomi asked.
'That's all I know. Maybe we ought to head down to Booking.'
They breezed out of Vail's office. Shana Parver was deep in a law book as Vail and Stenner passed her cubbyhole. Vail's rap on the glass startled her.
'C'mon,' said Vail.
'Where?'
'Downstairs.'
Edith Stoddard cowered as Shock Johnson and Si Irving led her through the wave of press that swarmed towards her when she got out of the car. They brought her into the booking office just as Stenner, Vail, and Parver got off the lift, which was directly across the hall from the entrance to Booking. Three TV crews, several photographers, radio interviewers, and reporters crowded through the doorway as they brought Stoddard in. Her hands were cuffed behind her and she seemed terrorized by the media and the police and the grim surroundings. Her eyes flicked from one group to another. Detectives crowded around a railing that separated the desk from the hallway to see who the celebrity was. The press shoved microphones in her face, yelled questions at her, jostled for space, while TV cameras scorched the scene with searing lights.
Shock Johnson led the stunned and frightened woman towards the booking desk as she looked around in bewilderment, flinching every time a strobe flashed, cowering under the blistering TV lights, while the press screamed at her. At that moment, Eckling appeared from a side room and took his place beside the tiny, trembling woman, displaying her like a big-game trophy. Vail watched the feeding frenzy with disgust.
