dragging behind him. Things looked up when Crawford stopped at an open door.
“This is where you’ll work,” he said.
Ginny peeked in. The office was empty, and it was a decent size. She hoped she wouldn’t be sharing it with anyone.
“Can I ask you a question?” Ginny said.
“You want to know why you’ve moved, right?”
“I am curious.”
“Don’t you like the assignment?”
“It’s definitely not that.”
“Then what? Don’t you think you can handle the work?” Crawford challenged.
“No, don’t get me wrong. I’m really excited, but I haven’t been here all that long.”
“The work you’ll be doing could be done by a first-year law student, and you’re up here because one of the attorneys on the team that’s prosecuting the FedEx bombers jumped ship without much notice to get rich at one of the big firms.
“Now get settled in. You’re going to have to get a special clearance to work with us. It takes thirty days, but I’ll see about getting it expedited. And I’ll have an STU brought down this afternoon.”
“An STU?”
“Better get up to date on the lingo, Striker. Secure Telecommunications Unit. It’s a computer. Put in a key and press a button, and it scrambles everything around so you can access secure databases. I’d grab a quick lunch if I were you, because someone is going to be piling that empty desk with really boring shit in no time flat.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Dana Cutler stopped outside the door to Le Faisan d’Or and tugged self-consciously at the hem of her skirt, the bottom half of her only business suit, a charcoal black, pinstripe Elie Tahari she’d bought on sale. She was wearing the suit with a white silk blouse and a string of tasteful pearls Jake had bought her for her last birthday. Dana knew she looked good in the suit because she’d seen the way men looked at her on the rare occasions she’d had to wear it, but she never felt comfortable in a skirt because it limited her movement in a fight.
Dana was wearing her suit because a certain type of client expected her to dress in a certain way, and she’d guessed that Bobby Schatz fell into that category the moment his secretary had asked her to meet him at Washington’s most exclusive French restaurant.
Dana had never met Schatz, but she’d seen him interviewed on television and read about his cases in the newspaper. And of course, she’d Googled him. All of Exposed ’s stories about Senator Carson had carried Dana’s byline, and she’d gotten a few clients from the publicity, but none as prestigious as Bobby Schatz. It would be a real coup to investigate a case for him because it would give her instant credibility with all of the heavy hitters in town. She’d also heard that he paid top dollar, and Dana could definitely use the money.
The maitre d’s face lit up when Dana told him that she was a guest of Bobby Schatz. He asked her to follow him, and Dana spotted Schatz when she was halfway across the dimly lit dining room. The celebrity lawyer was sitting in a booth in the back of the restaurant, sporting his trademark bow tie and wearing a satisfied grin. The media described him as self-indulgent, and photographs of his riverfront mansion and expensive cars supported the conclusion. Dana imagined Schatz leaning back after his meal and sipping a snifter of outrageously expensive Cognac before lighting up an illegally imported Cuban cigar while the maitre d’, who had received a shockingly large tip, ignored this violation of the D.C. antismoking code.
When the maitre d’ was almost at his booth, Schatz slid out to greet his guest.
“Miss Cutler,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m so glad you could join me. Have you eaten here before?”
Schatz knew damn well she hadn’t.
“I’m more of a McDonald’s girl. When I think of French, I think of fries.”
Schatz smiled. “Then you’re in for a treat.”
They sat, and the maitre d’ presented Dana with a menu. Schatz was nursing a glass of bourbon, and Dana ordered a glass of scotch before turning to the menu. She didn’t recognize a third of the items on it. Schatz noticed her furrowed brow.
“I eat here regularly, and I know what they do best,” he said. “Would you permit me to order for you?”
“Sure,” Dana said, relieved that she wouldn’t have to guess what was going to arrive at the table after she ordered.
“Let’s get business out of the way so we can enjoy our meal,” he said as soon as the waiter left. “Unless you’ve been living in a cave in the Gobi Desert, you know that the FBI has arrested several people charged with trying to blow up FedEx Field.”
“The four men who were working as vendors.”
Schatz nodded. “I’ve got number five, and he’s an interesting fellow. I guess his most interesting feature is that he’s been dead for six years.”
Their appetizers came when Schatz was halfway through briefing Dana on what he’d found out about Ron Tolliver/Steve Reynolds. He finished when the main course arrived.
“I assume you asked me to dinner to see if I want to investigate Tolliver’s case.”
“Exactly.”
“You never asked me to work for you before. Why now?”
“Several reasons. First, I’m a big fan of your investigative reporting. It took guts to break the Farrington case, but it took smarts, too. This latest series on Jack Carson only served to increase my admiration for your work.
“Second, I’ve been told you’re no-nonsense and never give up. That’s what a few of your former clients said about you when I did my due diligence. All the comments were laudatory, by the way. No complaints.
“It’s the fact that ‘tough’ was used by so many of them that convinced me to call you. You’re going to need a thick skin if you take on this assignment.”
“I’ll be quite honest with you, Mr. Schatz…”
“Call me Bobby.”
“Okay, Bobby. If I had to choose between helping Tolliver’s defense and shooting him in the head, I’d choose to put that gutless terrorist in the ground.”
“You are a tough guy, but don’t forget that the state will do your work for you if Tolliver is convicted.”
“If he tried to kill all those innocent people, I don’t want to spend my time trying to keep him off death row.”
Schatz’s head bobbed up and down. “You may not believe this, but I share your sentiments about terrorists. If Ron Tolliver is guilty of participating in the plot to blow up the Redskins’ stadium he deserves anything he gets. But you’re missing the point.”
“Don’t give me that ‘Innocent until proven guilty’ bullshit.”
“Ah, but it’s not bullshit.”
Dana smirked. Schatz raised his hand.
“Hear me out. When we broke free from the British, the colonists believed that government could be evil because they had been oppressed by a dictatorial government that did not respect their rights. People were imprisoned for political reasons, their homes were searched on the whim of a government official; they had no faith in the fairness of the judicial process. That lack of faith led to revolution.
“There are many, many countries in this world where the rule of law does not exist. Those are the countries where fear and violence are a common part of everyone’s life and the people rise up and overthrow the government. America is different. We don’t believe in revolution. We believe that differences with our government should and, most important, can be resolved in a court of law. That is why it is so important to give the best trial to the most heinous criminals, the criminals we would all execute personally without blinking an eye. When average citizens see these monsters receive due process, it reaffirms their belief that if they or their loved ones were ever arrested for shoplifting or driving under the influence, the system would treat them fairly.”
Dana smiled. “Now I see why you win so many acquittals. But I am curious. You have an investigator, right?”
