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CHAPTER 25
CLAIRE CAME THROUGH MY door bringing hope, love, warmth, and the scent of tea roses. All good things.
She said, “I have to crash here, Lindsay. I drove to the office. It’s closed off from both the street and the back door to the Hall. It’s too late to drive all the way home.”
I hugged her. I needed that hug and I thought she did, too. I pointed her to Joe’s big chair, with the best view of the TV. Onscreen now, a live report from Bryant Street.
Wind whipped through the reporter’s hair, turning her scarf into a pennant, making her microphone crackle.
She squinted at the camera and said, “I’ve just gotten off the phone with the mayor’s office and can confirm reports that there are no fatalities from the bomb. The prisoner, Jorge Sierra, also known as Kingfisher, remains locked in his cell.
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“The mayor has also confirmed that Sierra’s trial has been postponed until the Hall is cleared. If you work at 850 Bryant, please check our website to see if your office is open.”
When the segment ended, Claire talked to me about the chaos outside the Hall. She couldn’t get to her computer and she needed to reach her staff.
Yuki called at two. “You’re watching?”
“Yes. Is Brady with you?”
“No,” she said. “But three cruisers are outside our apartment building. And I have a gun. Nothing like this has ever happened around a trial in San Francisco. Protesters? Yes. Bombs? No.”
I asked her, “Do you know Kingfisher’s new attorney?”
“Jake Penney. I don’t know him. But this I do know. He’s got balls.”
Claire made soup from leftovers and defrosted a pound cake. I unscrewed a bottle of chilled cheap Chardonnay. Claire took off her shoes and reclined in the chair. I gave her a pair of socks and we settled into half a night of TV together.
I must have slept for a few minutes, because I woke to my cell phone buzzing on the floor beside the sofa.
Who was it now? Joe? Cat? Jacobi?
“Sergeant Boxer, it’s Elena.”
It took me a moment to put a face to a name. It came to me. Elena, a.k.a. Maura Steele, was Jorge Sierra’s reluctant wife.
I bolted into an upright position. Had we thought to protect her? No.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I have an idea.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
CHAPTER 26
WHEN I’D MET WITH Elena Sierra, she had let me know that she wanted nothing to do with her husband. I had given her my card but never expected to hear from her.
What had changed her mind?
I listened hard as she laid out her plan. It was brilliant and simple. I had made this same offer to Sierra and utterly failed to close the deal. But Kingfisher didn’t love me.
Now I had reason to hope that Elena could help put this nightmare to bed.
The meeting between Elena and her husband was arranged quickly. By late afternoon the next day our cameras were rolling upstairs in a barred room reserved for prisoners and their attorneys.
Elena wore a belted vibrant-purple sweaterdress and designer boots and looked like a cover girl. She sat across the table from Sierra. He wore orange and was chained so that he couldn’t stand or move his hands. He looked amused.
I stood in a viewing room with Conklin and Brady, watching live video of Elena’s meeting with Sierra, and heard him suggest several things he would like to do with her. It was creepy, but she cut him off by saying, “I’m not here for your pleasure, Jorge. I’m trying to help you.”
Sierra leaned forward and said, “You don’t want to help me. You want only money and power. How do I know? Because I created you.”
“Jorge. We only have a few more minutes. I’m offering you the chance to see your children—”
“Mine? I’m not so sure.”
“All you have to do is to plead guilty.”
“That’s all? Whose payroll are you on, Elena? Who are you working for, bitch whore?”
Elena got to her feet and slapped her husband hard across the face.
Joy surged through my body. I could almost feel my right palm stinging as if I had slapped him myself.
The King laughed at his wife, then turned his head and called out through the bars, “Take me back.”
Two guards appeared at the cage door and the King was led out.
When he was gone, Elena looked at the camera and shrugged. She looked embarrassed. She said, “I lost my temper.”
I pressed the intercom. “You did fine. Thank you, Elena.”
“Well, that was edifying,” said Brady.
“She tried,” I said to Brady. “I don’t see what else she could have done.”
I turned to Rich and said, “Let’s drive her home.”
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