Four Walls

of the description to bring him in, but only that. The cops at the five-two went a little overboard. But the DNA proved it wasn't Morgenstern-and that's why he has a nice house on Cambridge Avenue now.' That last was said with a bitter smile. 'So we've got, what? Anything?'

'Nothing we can make an arrest on,' Mac said.

'Which means we're nowhere,' Angell said. 'We can't go near Morgenstern unless we have something solid. Leaving aside his lawyer, if we arrest somebody who successfully sued the city for false arrest, we'll be in for a PR nightmare.' Before Mac could say anything, Angell said, 'I know, I know, but I got a message on my voice mail from Sinclair's office reminding me that we've already falsely arrested Jack Morgenstern once and that it might not be such a hot idea to do it again. I really don't like being on the chief of detectives' radar, and I'd like to get off it as soon as possible, please.'

Mac fumed for a second, then softened. Stella knew that his initial response to PR considerations was 'Who gives a damn?' His primary interest was the work. Everything else would take care of itself, as long as the work was done right. Stella knew that the world didn't actually work like that-and so did Mac, really-but that didn't mean either of them had to like it.

And there was also the unspoken part of what Angell said: I don't want to go through what you just went through.

Finally, Mac just said, 'I don't blame you. So where do we go from here?'

An idea that had been percolating in the back of Stella's mind burbled to the front. 'I'd like to go back to Belluso's,' she said. 'The place has a steady stream of regulars, and whoever killed Maria had to be one of those regulars. It was somebody who was let in as the place was closing, and someone who would've been able to get behind the counter. Morgenstern wasn't the only regular, after all. I'd like to see who else comes in there.' Then she smiled. 'Besides, it's been way too long since I've had a good cannoli.'

Rubbing his chin, Mac nodded. 'All right. It certainly couldn't hurt.'

Angell said, 'It's not like we've got much of anything else.'

'Okay. I'll head up there now,' Stella said.

She rose from the chair in Mac's office. It wasn't much, but maybe she'd find something. Worst case, she spent an afternoon sitting in an Italian-style cafй, and she could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon.

* * *

After Stella, Lindsay, and Angell left Mac's office, Sheldon and Danny came in. They sat on the sofa while Mac himself leaned against the front of his desk. 'What've you got?' Mac asked.

'We played around with Danny's favorite toy,' Sheldon said, 'and figured out a scenario whereby someone could've knocked Washburne's body off the weight bench in the hustle and bustle after Barker was stabbed. Based on Washburne's weight and the positioning of everything, and assuming the guy was moving at a certain speed, it works.'

'So you're saying it's likely that Melendez didn't hit Washburne with the weight?'

'I dunno about likely, Mac,' Danny said, 'but if the wound really was postmortem, it had to've happened one of two ways. One is that Melendez went to the trouble of knocking him off the bench-'

'Or,' Mac said, 'he fell off when he died.'

'Yeah,' Sheldon said, 'but wouldn't somebody have noticed? Washburne was a well-liked member of the prison community, wasn't he?'

Mac nodded. 'That's why Melendez got a stomach full of fists this morning. So you're saying that the only way he could've died without anybody noticing right away was if he died on the bench and didn't move?'

Nodding, Sheldon said, 'It fits the evidence-not to mention the COD.'

'And,' Danny added, 'since nobody noticed, and then Barker got shivved, it all fits. Barker gets cut, there's blood all over the place, people run around like headless chickens, and bam! Somebody bumps into Washburne and sends him to the ground-with a detour to the weight to crack his skull open.'

Flack walked in, knocking politely on the glass door as he opened it. 'This a private party?'

'Come on in, Don,' Mac said. 'We were just talking about the Washburne case.'

'Well, I gotta get back down there in a little bit to process Mulroney for Barker's murder. Our little gay- basher's gonna find out what life is like in max security.' That last was said with a feral grin that Flack only reserved for perps getting what they deserved. Mac understood the sentiment.

'He'll go to pretrial holding first, won't he?' Mac asked.

'Maybe-depends on the mood of the DA's office. But they got everything, so it's up to them.' He looked at Danny. 'Thanks for gettin' the file over so fast.'

'No problem.' Danny shrugged. 'Not sure how much good it'll do, since the guy confessed.'

'Evidence never hurts,' Mac said.

Sheldon folded his arms, a thoughtful look on his face. 'Doesn't always help, either, Mac. I mean, we've got plenty of evidence to tell us what happened, but we still don't have the faintest idea what killed Malik Washburne.'

'Yeah.' Mac walked around his desk and sat down. 'Let's go over what we know. Washburne died from his throat closing up, which was an allergic reaction to-something.'

Danny asked, 'He have anything in his stomach?'

Mac shook his head. 'Some digested food, but for someone to react to a food allergy, it would have to be right when they eat it, not hours later.'

'And tox just turned up the Klonopin?' Sheldon asked.

'Which he's been on for weeks.' Mac shook his head.

Sheldon unfolded one arm and gestured to the air with it. 'What if somebody injected him with something? Maybe something we couldn't detect. If there's a puncture mark-'

'There isn't,' Mac said. 'Peyton checked.'

With a sigh, Sheldon turned to Danny. 'It's good when your replacement's as talented as you are, right?'

Mac managed a half-smile, then grew serious again. 'Besides, there's no opportunity. How would someone get a syringe into the yard?'

Danny shrugged. 'Mulroney managed to sneak in a shiv.'

'Yes, but that was a clumsily put-together weapon, using material Mulroney had on hand. A syringe with something in it that would kill Washburne instantly would be a lot harder to get in the first place, much less take into the yard.'

'Besides,' Flack said, 'after the stabbing, everybody in that yard was searched, and you guys went over the scene. No syringe.'

Sheldon shook his head. 'It's too bad he'd been on the Klonopin so long.'

Frowning, Mac asked, 'Why?'

'Well, an allergic reaction to Klonopin could potentially cause your throat to close up. It fits the evidence.'

'What gets me,' Flack said, 'is that he was on it in the first place.'

Cursing himself for not seeing it sooner, Mac stood up. 'Of course. Washburne became a Muslim because of its proscription against mind-altering substances like alcohol-and drugs. He wouldn't take anything like Klonopin willingly.'

'Yeah, but Mac-he's in prison. Hell, Terry and I were just talkin' about this yesterday-these guys try all the tricks in the world to get outta takin' their meds, but the COs usually nail 'em. If Washburne was prescribed the drugs, he'd be takin' 'em.'

And then it all fell together for Mac. He walked around his desk. 'C'mon.'

'What?' Flack looked bewildered.

'I'll explain on the way. You've got to get to RHCF to process Mulroney, and I'm going with you.'

The other men stood up as well, though they all seemed just as confused. Danny said, 'I don't get it, Mac, what's-'

'I know what killed Malik Washburne,' Mac said, turning around in the doorway. 'Let's go, Don.'

As he and Flack left a confused Sheldon and Danny behind, Mac put in a call to Peyton. He needed her to run a particular blood test…