Final Appeal (26 page)

“
Isjdjr! Keidnbu!
” shouts a young man with flyaway blond hair, who troops with a park ranger onto the lawn behind Ben. Suddenly, a group of tourists is thronging around the man and the ranger, a bobbing mass of blond heads. “
Keird ishdsn!
”

“What the fuck is this?” Artie says. “Our neighbors to the north?”

“I would like to propose a toast,” I say, ignoring the interruption. I hoist my Diet Coke in the air. “To all of us, even Ben. And to justice.” I’m thinking of McLean, behind bars.

“Perfect!” Sarah says. “To all of us, even Ben. And to justice!” She hoists her Evian bottle to Eletha’s paper cup.

“To all of us, even Ben,” Eletha says. “And to justice, and happiness.”

Artie raises his bottle of Yoo-Hoo. “There is no justice or happiness. To all of us, even Ben, and to Patrick Ewing.”

“
Kirs eushjk
!” shouts the young man. He points to the Liberty Bell, visible through the pavilion’s glass wall. Crudely embossed letters at its top say
ALL THE LAND AND UNTO ALL THE
until the sentence disappears around the cast-iron curve. Tourists encircle the bell, but a park ranger will prevent them from touching the rough-hewn letters. I touched the letters once, when the ranger wasn’t looking; they felt cool and ragged.

“Thank you, all of you,” Ben says. “It’s very nice. You’re all very…kind.”

Artie bursts into laughter. “Don’t choke up or nothin’, dude. It’s not like we meant it.”

“Artie, be nice,” I say. “Good things happened today for a change.” I think of my successful Lexis search. Wait until they find out Armen was murdered. Will it make it worse or better? Which way does it make me feel?

“God knows, we needed it,” Eletha says, taking a slug of her iced tea.

“Welcome to Philadelphia, ladies and gentlemen,” the park ranger booms, then launches into his spiel with official enthusiasm. The tourists frown up at him almost instantly. Either the sun is bright or they don’t understand English with a Philadelphia accent. My guess is they’ve seen the sun before.

“I have some good news of my own,” Eletha continues, shouting to be heard. She sets down her cup in the grass and inhales deeply. “I’m a free woman, as of today. I broke up with Leon.”

“Really?” I say. I was wondering what she meant about happiness.

“I told him this morning, no more shit. Life is too short to take shit from any man.”

“Good for you!” Sarah says, drawing a sharp look from Artie. There’s an awkward silence, and I think of my promise to Ray.

“Don’t hang it up too fast, Eletha,” I say. “Have I got a man for you.”

“So have I,” Ben says, leaning over. “Chief Judge Galanter is single.”

Eletha laughs. “That’ll be the day! Shoot me before I get to that point. Shoot me, child!”

I think of Armen and stop laughing slowly. The others don’t seem to notice.

Sarah says, “No, Eletha, you got it backwards. Shoot
him
.”

They all roar with laughter, even Ben. I force a smile. What does it feel like to be shot? What is the last thing Armen felt? Did McLean hold the gun to Armen’s temple? Force him into the chair? I look away to where the park ranger is addressing the tourists and tune him in.

“There were no bell foundries in the colonies at that time period,” the ranger says, “so rather than send it back, these resourceful colonists, who had previously made only pots, pans, and candlestick holders—”

“Grace?” Artie says. “You with us?”

I push it out of my mind. We got him now. That’s justice, even if it doesn’t bring Armen back. “Sure.”

“Who’s bachelor number one?” Eletha asks.

“What?”

“Who did you want to fix me up with?”

“Oh. One of the marshals.”

Eletha shudders. “One of the marshals? Forget it!”

“Back in the saddle, Miss Thing,” Artie says. “I love a man in uniform.”

“What’s the matter with a marshal?” Sarah says.

Eletha leans forward. “You know what I heard? One of the marshals was arrested this morning. For the murder of that reporter.”

Sarah pales. “You mean the stringer? The one who was calling us?”

“What?” Ben says, setting his hoagie down in its shell of waxy paper. I concentrate on the grease spots soaking the paper from the inside and try to look as shocked as he does.

“That’s unbelievable,” Artie says, between mouthfuls of corned beef. “Which marshal?”

“Al McLean, the big one.”

“How did you hear this?” I ask her.

“Millie, from the clerk’s office. So no marshals, honey. Not for me. No way.”

“But it’s Ray Arrington. He’s a teddy bear.”

“Ray? A
what?
” Artie says, chomping away. “Gimme a break! You ever see him on a basketball court? The man is a maniac. He almost knocked Shake and Bake out.”

“Ray?”

“The Shakester had a bruise all down his side.”

“Poor schizophrenic,” Ben says. He stows his empty coffee cup in his hoagie wrapper and rolls them up together. “We should get back to the office. It’s been over an hour.”

Eletha and Sarah look at each other and laugh. “What are they gonna do, fire us?” Eletha says.

“I want to work on my article.”

But Sarah doesn’t hear him. “We’re free. We have no work, no job, no office.” Her face falls suddenly. And no boss, is the thing we’re all thinking, but nobody says it. Artie wraps up the remains of his lunch in silence and Eletha watches him, her eyes unfocused. I feel a lump in my throat and raise my can in a silent toast.

“I agree,” Sarah says softly and touches her drink to mine. Eletha raises hers, too. Only Artie doesn’t say anything. I can’t catch his eye.

Ben clears his throat. “We’d better go back. Grace still has a job, you know.”

“Don’t remind me.” I’ve indentured myself for nothing, unless I want to help Winn’s bribery investigation. “Anyway, today I’m off duty.”

“So why’d you come in?” Sarah asks. She gets up, then helps me up.

“I don’t know. We don’t have much more time together. I thought I’d say good-bye.” It comes out of its own force, and even though it’s not the reason I came in, I realize how true it is. The lump comes back.

“Awww,” Sarah says, and to my surprise gives me a warm hug, which Eletha joins.

“Group hug!” Artie says, rallying. He wraps his long arms around Eletha and presses us all together. I’m somewhere in the middle, trying to swallow the damn lump.

“Come on in, Mr. Human Rights,” Sarah calls out.

“I’ll pass,” Ben says, but I hear the smile in his voice.

“
Isjdhyk mejsgr!
” shouts the young man. “
Kkkrk!
”

29

I
sit at my desk with the form letter in my hand, reading it to Winn:

We have been unable to locate the record in this matter in our archives or file room. This is not out of the ordinary with older case files and we will continue our efforts to locate it. We regret any inconvenience this may have caused you.

“You know McLean took it, don’t you?” I say.

“Possibly.”

“Possibly?”

“The government never loses anything?”

“A court record? Not often.”

“Ever?”

“Not often.”

Winn is silent.

“Charge him anyway, Winn. The lawsuit existed. His wife existed. He can’t hide the facts, even if he can steal the record.”

“Fuck. This slows us up.”

“How? Ask him about it. Say to him, Did your wife die of skin cancer? Did she sue the doctor? Was the fifteen million dollar award taken away by Judge Gregorian?”

“He’s not answering questions, Grace. He’s got a lawyer already.”

Shit. Of course. Shoot the lawyer twice. It stumps me for a minute.

“You say we don’t need the record, but if the record doesn’t matter, why would McLean steal it?”

“Because he’s stupid. Because he didn’t count on anybody doing legal research on him.”

“How would he steal it? Would he be able to?”

“Sure. The marshals have master keys, that’s how he got in Galanter’s office. The files are kept in number order by year. Even an idiot can find a record.”

“Fuck!”

“Let me be the confidential informant again. I’ll make another statement. Describe everything that happened in Armen’s office, the way McLean acted to me at the metal detector, even my research and the clerk’s letter. It’s enough to charge him, isn’t it?”

“It’s a close question.”

“Winn, he killed Armen because of the court case, then he killed Faber because he was close to finding out. A verdict that big would make the papers. Faber probably did his homework and found out about the wife’s case. Hell, he could find it easily on Nexis. I could do it myself, right now. Faber was calling our chambers all day.”

“Relax, Grace.”

“Charge him. It’s enough. I’m a lawyer, I know. Are you gonna let him get away with murder?”

“It’s close. I don’t want to go in half cocked.”

Man talk. “You got another idea?”

“Yes. Is there any other place records would be?”

The thought strikes like a thunderbolt. “The appendix! The appendix is a duplicate of the record. For a trial with that much money at stake, I bet it’s complete.”

“Where would the appendix be?”

“Every judge on the panel would have gotten one, including Armen. It’s an old case but Eletha would know if we have it.” My brain clicks ahead. I didn’t see the older cases in the boxes we packed this morning, but Eletha could have packed them earlier. “She said Armen saved everything. We just finished packing this morning.”

“Go get ’em, tiger.”

“It’s about a million boxes.”

“Dig we must.”

Easy for him to say. He doesn’t have to deal with Eletha’s reaction when I tell her what I’m going to do.

*  *  *

“You want to do what?”
Eletha shrieks at me, astounded. She stands protectively in front of the boxes that stack almost to the ceiling in Armen’s office.

“Shhh!” I look toward the clerks’ office, even though the door is closed. “You can go home. I’ll do it. I already called my mother to pick up Maddie at school.”

“
Are you out of your goddamn mind?
” Long fingers clasp at her chest and she breathes deeply, in and out.

“Eletha, don’t do the Lamaze thing, not for me. You can go.”

“You want to rip open all my boxes? We just finished!”

“I’ll put everything back.”

She shakes her head. “No. I won’t let you do it. No way. No file is important enough to ruin all that work.”

I wish I could tell her why, but Winn made me swear. “I’ll redo it.”

“Galanter wants this stuff out of here! I told him we’d be done tomorrow, you know that. That’s why I worked my ass off all morning! All
week!
”

“I know, but I need it.”

“What for?”

“A misconduct case.”

“What misconduct case is ten years old? Don’t bullshit me, Grace. We’re friends.”

I take her by the shoulders. “Listen, trust me. I can’t tell you anything more.”

“Why not?”

“Eletha, it’s the most important file in the world.”

“No file—”

“This one is.”

“Are you outta your mind?” Her dark eyes watch me with hope.

“No.”

“But I got class tonight, and Leon sure ain’t gonna sit anymore.”

“That’s all right. I have to do it myself.”

“Galanter wants in—tomorrow. It’ll take you all
night
.”

I remember the last time I was here in this office until dawn. “That’s okay.”

I look around at the boxes and so does she. It’s daunting, like moving an entire house in only one night. Twice. I wonder if I’ll be able to get it done in time. If I can’t, screw Galanter. He may not be a killer, but he’s still a jerk.

“I know what you’re thinkin’,” Eletha says to me, wagging a finger. “It’s gotta be done by morning. GSA is comin’ in to take up the rug.”

“All right, all right.”

“You want me to come back after class? It’s over at ten.”

“Nope. You got Malcolm.”

“I’ll bring him. He can sleep on the couch.”

“No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” She shakes her head, mystified. “Start with those boxes against the wall.” She gestures to about forty-five boxes, taped closed and stacked up like children’s blocks. “Those are the case files. Everything over there”—she points against the back wall behind Armen’s desk—“is old stuff, papers, and some older files. There could be some older case files in there, too.”

“Okay.” I eyeball the boxes in the back. Thirty, easy. Christ. I remember when I left Sam: all my stuff and Maddie’s in a storage bin, and it still wasn’t that high. “No problem.”

She points at the conference table and the chair against the window, both of which are heaped with brown paper packages. “That’s all the Armenian stuff. I put bubble paper underneath that brown paper, you know. You won’t be needin’ any of it, so don’t unwrap it.”

“I won’t.” Each package is labeled in black Magic Marker, some cryptically.
STATUE. ANOTHER STATUE. PRAYER RUG. FRAMED THING. BIG THING.
I laugh at
BIG THING
, lying horizontally across the chair near the window. “What’s that one?”

She wrinkles her nose. “You know, that big thing?”

“No, I don’t, El. I have no idea.”

“You do too. That wood thingie he had hangin’ up, like a baseball bat.”

Now I remember. The cudgel. “Oh, yeah. That big thing.”

“Right. It weighs a ton. Leave it alone, all of it.”

“I will. I promise. Hey, where’s the Indian headdress?”

“Oh, that?” She grins. “I lost it.”

“You what?”

“I can’t remember where I put it, for the life of me. I guess it just got lost in the shuffle.” She scratches her sleek head, then bursts into laughter.

“Eletha, what did you do?”

“It serves his ass right, doesn’t it?”

I have to agree.

“Okay. I gotta go, but I’m gonna do one thing for you. Make you a pot of coffee.”

“Deal,” I say and get to work.

I open box after box, digging into each with cheap government scissors. I go through the case files; each is a manila folder containing Armen’s notes, a set of briefs, and an appendix. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to be in chronological order, or in any order at all; I don’t stop to read Armen’s notes, even those not written in Armenian. I can’t afford the time; I’m trying to nail his killer.