It's possible that the case against Jones could be tossed out as entrapment.' She shrugged. 'You knew it was going to come out anyway. At least now there's time to get the media through chewing on it by the time Marlin Jones is recaptured.'
She was lying, but how could he prove it? Savich smiled at her, a smile cold enough to freeze water. He said, his voice so gentle it made the hair rise on the back of Lacey's neck, '1 wonder that it didn't occur to the one who told the press that Sherlock wasn't the one who made the decision? That both the Bureau and the local cops all discussed her as bait for Marlin and okayed it?'
'I bet you talked him into it,' Hannah said to Lacey. The other agents were squirming, looking off, wishing, Savich knew, that they were anywhere but seated here at the conference table.
Savich raised his hands. 'All right, that's enough. As most of you know, Sherlock is at my place. Not a word about this to anybody outside this room. Okay, we'll have our regular status meeting tomorrow. I just wanted everyone up to speed on this debacle. Hannah, I'd like to see you in my office.'
The meeting broke up. Ollie collared Lacey. 'I've been working through MAXINE's protocols using a different slant with the Florida nursing home killings. Come and see where I'm at. I'd like your input. Besides, it'll get your mind off Marlin Jones. You're looking hunted.'
She wanted to go after Savich and Hannah. Then Hannah turned around and looked at her. Lacey changed her mind. She didn't want to get within spitting distance of Hannah.
In Savich's office, he waved his hand to a chair facing his desk. 'Sit down, Hannah.'
She sat. He said nothing at all for a very long time, just looked at her, his head cocked to the left.
'You wanted yo speak to me Savich?'
'Oh yes. I know it was you who told the media about Sherlock's connection to one on the San Francisco murders. I'd like you to tell me why you did it.'
30
SHE SAID IN A LOW VOICE that was hard as nails, 'I told you already that I didn't do it.' 'You're lying. Understand this, Hannah. It wasn't Sher-lock's decision to be used as bait. Sure, she wanted to do it, very badly, but it wasn't her decision. You're the last person who should have opened your mouth. The fact of the matter is that you talked to the press just to cause trouble. That's unprofessional and unacceptable behavior in a Special Agent.'
'I didn't do it. You can't prove that I did. Don't forget that it was a judge who ordered the removal of Marlin Jones's shackles. Why wouldn't a judge throw this out as well?'
'Because of the bloody evidence, that's why. Look, Hannah, I don't want you in this unit. I think a transfer is in order. You're a good agent, but not here, not in my unit.' 'That dowdy little prig is that good in bed?' 'Special Agents don't talk about other Special Agents that way. It's sexist. It's not acceptable. I won't have it.'
Hannah rose slowly, bent over toward Savich, splayed her hands on his desk, and said in a low voice, 'Tell me what you see in her, just tell me so I'll understand. You swore to me that you'd never allow yourself to become serious over anyone who worked in your unit, yet you saw little miss prim and fell all over yourself.'
He rose to face her. 'Listen to me, just let it go. Sherlock's never done anything to you. If you want a target, I'm right here, really big, right in front of you. Take your best shot. Leave Sherlock alone. Oh yeah, I know too that you called the media in San Francisco and told them where Sherlock lived.
'You have compromised this case, Hannah, you've muddied the waters because of your stupid jealousy. Now, if you want to stay in the Bureau, you'd best be very careful from here on out. I'll call Colin Petty in Personnel. You can discuss transfer options with him right now.' 'Tell me why. Why her?'
Sherlock's face was vivid in his mind's eye. He looked bemused as he said slowly, 'You know, I really can't answer that. Lots of things, I guess. Good day, Agent. I'll be calling Personnel right now.'
She called him a shit, but it was low enough so he could ignore it. At least he hoped he was the shit and not Sherlock. He'd never meant to hurt Hannah, never meant to do anything to encourage her. He called Colin Petty, then buzzed Hannah to go see him.
He sighed, turned on MAXINE, and was soon in another world, one that he controlled, one that answered only to his siren's song, one that never let him down. He reviewed everything on Marlin Jones.
Where was he? Hiding? On the run? Was he alone? MAXINE brought up the driver's license photo of Marlin's father, Erasmus Jones. Were they together? Did Erasmus play any role at all in any of the murders in Denver or San Francisco or Boston? Was it actually he who rented the Ford Taurus and not his son? If he had, then they were probably together.
He reviewed the reports, completely immersed until Jimmy Maitland finally said from the open doorway, 'Maitland to Savich and MAXINE. Are you two hovering anywhere close?'
Savich blinked, forcing himself to look up. He rose. 'Hello, sir. What can I do for you? Have they caught Marlin Jones?'
Jimmy Maitland shook his head mournfully. 'No, not yet, but it won't be much longer. All the major corridors out of Boston are covered with agents and locals. Oh yeah, Big John Bullock is hassling the Bureau office in Boston big-time. He wants to see Agent Sherlock. He wants what he's calling a predeposition. He wants to make some hay now before the cops have Marlin in custody again. What do you suggest we do?'
Savich sat back in his chair. Jimmy Maitland lowered himself into one of the chairs facing Savich's desk. 'This isn't easy, is it? That opportunistic jerk, I wish Marlin had hit him harder.'
'Too late. Come on, Savich, do you think Big John will make hash out of Sherlock?'
'No. Besides, we'll have a person from Justice with us. I think Sherlock is incidental. What he wants is to have the media crawling all over her, making her look guilty, and thus exonerating Marlin Jones, which is impossible. The guy's spitting in the wind.'
'And if that doctor dies, it's more than just impossible. They just might launch him into space. Last I heard, it's still too close to call.'
'If the doctor dies, I can see Big John going for manslaughter or murder two. No premeditation, an act of passion by an insane man, a man out of control, a man terrified about what was going to happen to him.' Suddenly Savich sat upright in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. 'Let's do it. I think Sherlock can handle herself just fine. Let's face that bastard down. Who knows? We just might get something out of it.'
Jimmy Maitland said very slowly, 'You think just maybe Marlin will find out about her being in Boston? He'll try to get to her?'
Savich was very still. 'Yeah, bottom line, that's why I think
we should go.'
'It's a real long shot. Next to impossible.'
'Yeah, but even if there's a remote chance it'd be worth it. But it's not just my decision to make. I'll speak to Sherlock. But you know something? I just don't think Marlin would even find out about her going to Boston-unless we let it loose to the media. Also, even if he does find out, he'd really have to be crazy to come after her.'
'Maybe, but I just don't know. Big John will leak it to the media, count on it. I will too. But you're right, it's got to be Sherlock's decision. But you already know the answer, don't you, Savich?'
'Oh yes.'
'The media are out in force, thicker than fleas on a one-eared dock rat,' Jimmy Maitland said, blew his nose, then stuffed the handkerchief back into his coat pocket. He drew away from the window in the twenty-third-floor office of Big John Bullock. He wasn't happy with all this, but he knew that with the leak, there was no way in hell Marlin Jones didn't know about Sherlock being here in Boston. He wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock had called the media. She really wanted Marlin Jones, badly.
Buzz O'Farrell, the SAC of the Boston Bureau office, was just shaking his head. 'It amazes me how they don't just send one reporter, no, it's four dozen with eight dozen mikes, enough cameras to film World War II, and everybody screaming. I wanted to shoot that damned judge, but the media? A nice deadly virus just might be the answer for them.'
'They ain't got no manners, that's for sure,' Savich said, grinning down at Sherlock, who looked both stoic and furious, an interesting combination he would have liked to explore with her in private. Which, unfortunately, wouldn't be an option this morning.
'Big John leaked it,' Jimmy Maitland said, 'we didn't. Actually, we'd decided to keep our noses clean. And yes, we know he leaked it. He's still counting on coming out smelling like a rose in all this and that's why he did it.'
