The Green Line (18 page)

Abby turned back. “Why’s that?”

“I have some personal effects from Mr. Rashid. I know you didn’t know him too well, but you knew him better than I. I wonder if there’s anyone I should call.”

“What do you have?” Gottlieb and Ali had only met the one time, as she recalled.

“Well, Mr. Rashid brought me some videotapes from the surveillance camera in his shop.”

“Oh.” Abby thought about this. “Did he have footage from the drug-trafficking arrests?”

“Yes.”

“I’d really appreciate getting those from you. There are issues about his case that I’m still involved in.” It wasn’t a total lie.

“Sure.” He gave her his business card. “Just call my secretary and she’ll messenger them to your office later today.”

“That’s fabulous. Well, it was really nice meeting you. And if I ever hear of another person needing a criminal defense lawyer, I’ll pass on your name.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both loaded their briefcases onto the conveyer belt, moved through the security area, and said good-bye at the elevator bank. Abby hit
4
to go to Judge Coreus’s courtroom.

There were about fifteen people in the courtroom. Attorneys mostly, waiting for their turn to present the judge with their motions. The judge walked in just as Abby was entering, so she took a seat in the back. Fortunately, Nate’s case was the first to be called,
Ramirez vs. City of Chicago, et al
. Nate presented his motion to the judge and the defense counsel stood, ready to argue. Nate wanted additional time for discovery because he had not received all requested documents from the defense and had been unable to complete his depositions. The defense was quick to assert code provisions regarding time limits and Nate fired back about stonewalling and the defense’s failure to respond. The judge cut them off quickly and fired questions at both attorneys. He ordered the parties to re-set the trial date, continue with discovery for another sixty days, and threw out some vague warnings about abiding by the rules for full disclosure and cooperation.

As Nate returned to his client, he looked pleased. Abby caught his eye and waved. Nate nodded and ushered his client toward the exit. Abby followed them into the hall.

“Abby!” Nate gave her a warm and knowing smile.

“Isabel, this is Abigail Donovan. She’s another attorney who’s going to be working with us.”

Abby shot Nate a look since she hadn’t agreed to anything yet, but he just grinned. Abby offered her hand to the woman. The woman, who stood a couple of inches above Abby, offered a tentative smile and shook Abby’s hand weakly. She had on an orange parka, a bright white church-going polyester dress, and giant boots.

Nate turned his attention to his client. “That went well. Thanks for meeting me here. I’ll call you later this week and give you an update. Get some rest.”

The woman smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Walters.”

He stopped her. “Isabel, come on. If I’m going to call you Isabel, you have to call me Nate.”

“Okay, Nate. And nice to meet you, Ms. Donovan.”

Abby smiled. “You too. And please call me Abby.”

Isabel walked to the elevator with tentative steps and nearly jumped from the movements of others in the hall.

Nate turned to Abby. “You came!”

“Yeah, yeah, so what is this all about?”

“Here.” Nate pulled a document from his briefcase. “This is a copy of the testimony she gave me when this first began. Read it over. It’ll make your blood boil.”

Abby took the paper. “So why’d she come today?”

“She’s not employed right now. She’s scared at home. I think it gives her a sense of security to meet me and see that the case is active. Even if we’re just in the pre-trial stage.”

Abby could understand that. They headed for the elevators.

“Besides, I kind of like reminding the judge and the opposing counsel of the face of this case. Everyone gets caught up in the game and maneuvering. I want them to see this woman’s face all the time.”

“So, what now?” Abby asked. They were walking back into the sea of bodies on the main floor.

“Now I go over to Judge Moore’s chambers on another matter.” He checked his watch. “In fact, I better get moving.”

“Okay, well, have a good day, Nate. I’ll call you later.”

“You better.” He was already halfway down the hall. “Welcome aboard!”

Abby shook her head in slight disbelief that she was even here. She followed a mass of people leaving the elevator banks toward the exit. The line for the metal detectors now extended to the front doors. Officer Reilly walked in. He was in uniform, walking with another officer. It made her stomach jump. He was probably here to testify in a case, but she felt afraid. He’d been nothing but nice to her, but now she wondered. Was he a crooked cop? She remained behind the other people walking toward the exit and tried to blend in with the crowd. As she got through the revolving door, she looked back. He was chatting casually with another officer.

Stepping out into the sunshine, she grabbed her sunglasses and tried to relax, while a sea of people headed toward her and the courthouse. And then she saw him. It was hard to miss him. He had a swagger and his wavy blond hair almost sparkled in the sunshine. She looked down immediately, wondering if he’d recognize her, wondering why he never called, wondering if he’d seen her naked. What if they had slept together? Just a sleazy one-night stand. Of course he wouldn’t call. He probably left as soon as we finished.

What was he doing here? He was heading toward her. Just say hello, she silently commanded. Act confident and ask for a date. She reached to remove her sunglasses and opened her mouth but froze as a wave of insecurity took over. What if he didn’t remember her? What if he blew her off? Her ego couldn’t take it. She quickly looked away and bent over, like she was pulling something out of her bag. She hoped he didn’t notice her.

He walked right past her and through the revolving door. Should I call him? She tried to remember what she had done with that cocktail napkin.

· · ·

TRIP
removed his coat, readying himself for the detector. Waiting in line with the other civilians, he looked over at the officers and attorneys going through their own shorter, faster security checkpoint. That was really the only thing he missed. He saw a few familiar faces and said hello and spotted Mike leaning against the wall by the elevators. Trip pushed the button and they both waited in silence. When the doors opened, several people entered and Mike pushed the button for the third floor. Trip followed Mike toward the first courtroom. It was empty. They sat in the back row by the door.

Mike turned to Trip. “The judge will be here in fifteen minutes.”

Trip pulled the envelope from his back pocket and said, “Two thousand.”

The giant courtroom echoed. Mike responded in a hushed voice. “I thought you said it would be four.”

“This is just for Quick Mart. I was hoping we’d be done with Reggie’s by now. When’s the auction?”

Mike looked around and put the money away. “Why are we meeting here, anyway? I don’t think we should be seen together.”

“First of all, we’re here because you needed to be here this morning, right? And I have some properties to see in the neighborhood. And the room’s empty. Besides, who cares if people see us? We were friends on the force, we’re still friends. No crime in that.”

“This has gotten more serious, Trip, and you know it.”

“Mike, you didn’t do anything. You made some arrests. Moved forward for seizure. It’s your job. What’s the big deal?”

Mike looked at Trip. He wasn’t going to say it out loud. But Trip could tell this was about the murders. The death of some useless hooker and some fucking terrorists. There was no reason to panic.

“What if someone connects these cases?”

“Who? Really, what are you afraid of? You’ve brought in big scores of drugs, you’ve seized some buildings, and the department will get a nice profit. Hardly a cause for investigation.”

“But that bartender at Reggie’s—I mean, what are the chances that charge is gonna stick? There are no prior convictions. No eyewitness to dealings. We’re just talking about possession.”

“First of all, who cares if the charges stick? You know it doesn’t affect the case. Besides, Leon’s got more than possession. It was a lot. That’s possession with intent. And we’ve got three cops that will testify to finding drugs on his person several weeks ago. What better testimony could you ask for?”

“When did that happen?”

“Don’t you worry. You didn’t really think you were the only cop I was counting on, did you? This is no small gig. I’ve got friends in all sorts of places. And we both know cops don’t make enough money.”

Mike continued to look at the door. He wouldn’t sit still.

“Mike, come on. Relax. How’s it coming with the Madison property? Have you reported any suspicious activity yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I want the trail set by March. If I can get in there by summer, it’ll be ready to flip in the fall.”

He looked at Mike for confirmation and grew impatient as he waited. “Mike, your mother doing better these days?”

“Why?”

“I know you can use the money, that’s all. Now focus. Let’s clear Reggie’s and this next one. I’m sure that will help with her medical bills.”

“I don’t even know when you’ll get Reggie’s. Owners filed a claim fighting the forfeiture.”

“Leon can’t fight this case. We’ve got him for trafficking.”

“Turns out Leon’s father is the owner.”

Trip slammed his fist against the bench in front of them. “Goddammit! You investigated title! How could you not know that?”

“They have the same name. I didn’t realize.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Sorry, Trip. It was an honest mistake. The property is still an instrument of the crime. The owner will still have to prove he couldn’t have known. He’ll lose. It’s just going to take a while longer.”

Now Trip couldn’t sit still. He was talking to himself as much as Mike. “That just fucks with my plans. I was counting on that property. I’ve invested money and time already.” He looked at Mike then. “I better get that property.”

Mike looked away. People were starting to pour in.

Trip shook his head in disbelief and stood to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

Mike leaned over. “Hey, you sure that Abigail Donovan is nothing to worry about?”

Trip wasn’t sure of anything anymore; that’s why he’d been moving forward in dealing with her. Just in case. “Why?”

“I saw her a few minutes ago, downstairs. Made me think of it.”

Trip sat back down. “Well, she is a lawyer, Mike.”

“I know, it’s just that . . .”

“What?”

“She saw me. She looked away. She looked kind of nervous.”

“Mike, why wouldn’t she look away? Did you expect her to come over and chat? That doesn’t sound like a problem.” Trip was feeding Mike bullshit because he couldn’t take him getting any more nervous. But Trip had felt uneasy about Abigail Donovan ever since he heard about her going to the Quick Mart auction. It seemed like she was nosing around. And he wasn’t about to let her figure any of this out.

“When I picked her up a few weeks back, she was researching forfeiture laws.”

“What? How do you know?”

“She was holding the papers when I got there. Dropped them right in front of me.”

“But you were at her office, right? In uniform?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Trip thought some more. “Listen, I want you to call her office a few times this week. If she answers, just say you’re checking in to see if she’s remembered anything. If she doesn’t, leave messages with her secretary. Don’t do voice mail.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry about the why. Just do it. And I’m going to see what I can find out.”

“Well, I just saw her with Nate Walters.”

“Who’s that?”

“He’s the lawyer suing the department and several cops for all sorts of shit. Everyone’s up in arms about it.”

“What’s the basis?”

“Some woman that lives in one of the few remaining projects by Cellular Field. She says she was terrorized by some cops on more than one occasion.”

“I don’t know about that.”

The courtroom was filling quickly now.

Trip got up to leave and leaned in. “Don’t worry. I’m taking care of Abigail Donovan. Just in case.”

Mike looked up at him and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.

Trip gave him a pat on the head. “See ya.”

SEVENTEEN

ABBY
sat in the conference room staring at the frozen television screen. She called Marcus in a panic. He picked up on the third ring and sounded glad to hear from her.“Detective, something’s happened.”

“What’s up, Abby?”

“Something’s going on here. I don’t know what to make of it.”

“Just start at the beginning.”