it again, then hurled it across the room.
Think. Think.
I could barely breathe. My brain sizzled. I’d played out the string and reached the end. I slumped forward, doubled over on the littered floor, a madwoman in isolation. I squeezed my eyes shut and screamed silently, every nerve, every muscle stretched to the limit of fear and fatigue. A silent primal scream. A secret cry of pure anguish.
And then it all became clear. My eyes flew open. I sat bolt upright on my haunches.
It had been right in front of me and I hadn’t seen it.
Hiding in plain sight.
Now all I had to do was prove it without getting killed.
39
Good morning,” I said into my cell phone. “This Leo the Lion?”
“I’m at the federal courthouse. Tenth Floor. Be there or be square.” I hung up, flipped the phone shut, and jumped out of the Yellow cab. It was done, set in motion.
I bolted through the doors of the courthouse. The Roundhouse was only blocks away and traffic wouldn’t be an issue. Azzic would fly here. I checked my watch: 9:30. I figured I had ten minutes to pull this off, at the most. I rushed into the lobby.
Deliverymen pushed dollies across the polished floor. Lawyers conspired with their clients before trial. Federal employees moseyed by on their way to work. There were no cops in sight, only a few blue-jacketed court security officers talking among themselves near the elevators. I kept my head down and joined the line at the metal detector. It was longer than I expected. My stomach tensed. I glanced at the time. 9:35.
My gaze fell on the tabloid carried by a young woman in front of me. WANTED FOR DOUBLE MURDER! the headline screamed. I did a double-take. It was my own face plastered on the front page. A life-sized pencil portrait, complete with new hairdo. My insides torqued into a knot. If anybody in the lobby recognized me I’d be dead.
I lowered my head. My heart thumped inside my chest. Stay calm, girl. Nobody would expect a killer in a courthouse, especially dressed like I was, in a classic red blazer over a black knit dress, with chic sunglasses. It was the only businesslike outfit the shopper had sent me, and I didn’t look like a fugitive in it, I looked like a lawyer. I squared my padded shoulders, arranged my face into the mask of a busy professional, and frowned at my watch. 9:37.
The woman put her purse and the tabloid on the conveyor belt to the right. The tabloid flopped open to my picture. I fought the urge to bolt. Did anybody see it? A court security officer stood next to the belt but he was watching the parade of X-ray images on the monitor. If he looked over he’d spot the front page. All it would take was one glance.
“Miss? Step on through, please,” said an older court officer to my left. I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.
“Sure… sorry,” I stammered, tearing my eyes from the tabloid. I walked through the metal detector with the newspaper traveling beside me on the conveyor belt, plaguing me like the false accusation it was. I checked the security officer on the stool, but his gaze remained fixed on his monitor. The woman picked up her paper and other belongings, then went on her way. I exhaled for the first time and nabbed my purse as it came off the conveyor belt.
“Kinda dark for sunglasses, don’cha think?” asked a security officer with a cocky smile.
“Pinkeye,” I said. I hurried past him and lost myself in the crowd waiting restlessly at the elevator bank. I checked my watch as coolly as possible. 9:40. The seconds ticked by almost palpably. The elevator was taking forever. Christ. I should have given myself more time, built in the delays. Police sirens blared outside and everyone ignored them but me.
Where was the goddamn elevator? Two lawyers began to complain loudly. One in a three-piece suit seemed to be watching me, trying to catch my eye. Did he recognize me from the newspaper? From somewhere else? I turned away, to the gray marble wall.
9:43. We were at the ninth floor, with only one left to go.
The lawyer shifted closer. “Excuse me,” he said, “but don’t I know-”
The gallery was fuller than the first day. Bob Wingate was there next to Renee Butler, as I’d hoped. The Honorable Judge Edward J. Thompson presided and Dr. Haupt sat stiffly in the witness stand. Eve Eberlein stood next to a projector that cast equations onto a white screen at the front of the courtroom. I hadn’t figured on the projector. All the better.
The wall clock said 9:44. Time to go. I strode past the bar of the court and slipped my paper under the overhead projector before Eve had time to react. “Your Honor,” I said, “members of the jury, would you please take a look at this exhibit? I think you’ll find it serves the cause of justice.”
“Bennie?” Eve sputtered. “Is that you?”
“Look at the screen. It’s Exhibit A.”
Eve whirled around and faced the projection screen. It was the news clipping, blown up larger than life at the front of the courtroom:
YORK MAN FOUND SLAIN
I heard her suck wind before she turned and said, “What are you doing here? I’m in the middle of a trial!”
From the dais, a puzzled Judge Thompson said, “Miss? Miss? Aren’t you out of order?”
“On the contrary, Your Honor,” I said. “This is my only chance to be heard, and it has to be in court to make the police listen.”
“Police? What police?”
I looked around. The courtroom was still. The wall clock ticked onto 9:45. No cops. The jury stared at me, everyone stared at me. My face flushed red. Goddamn elevators. “Uh, they’re on their way, Your Honor.”
Suddenly Azzic exploded through the courtroom doors with a squad of uniforms behind him and charged up the aisle.
“You killed this man, didn’t you, Eve?” I called out. “You and Renee Butler murdered him, just like you murdered Mark!”
“That’s outrageous!” Eve’s pretty features were etched with a controlled fury as she eyed the police. “You killed Mark, not me!”
Azzic stopped at mid-aisle and held back his men with a beefy hand. The gallery wheeled back and forth at the commotion.
“You and Renee,” I said. “You killed Eileen’s husband together. Don’t deny it. Renee confessed. She even gave me her key.” I reached into my blazer pocket and flashed the edge of my locker key. It was too big, but it would do.
Eve’s face slackened with momentary surprise and her gaze found Renee in the gallery.
