The 17th Suspect (Women's Murder Club #17)(38)

I thought about that. I didn’t like the image.

Hon said, “Sergeant Boxer, you’re taking this case to heart. I know a little about you, and what I know tells me that you’re a very good cop. So let’s just keep this quiet. Let it play out a little longer,” said the lieutenant. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground. If I decide to launch an investigation, I’ll let your lieutenant know. If you learn something I should know, call me.

“Now I have another meeting,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’ll show you out.”

Feeling awkwardly dismissed, again, I thanked Hon, shook his hand, and took the fire stairs down to Homicide.

Conklin had left for the day.

I left, too, got into my car, and drove home.

I was still obsessing, having conversations in my head with Hon, Jacobi, and Brady, all at once and one at a time.

As in real life, the talking was getting me nowhere.





CHAPTER 54


YUKI HADN’T SPOKEN with Marc Christopher since Giftos’s scathing cross-examination of Paul Yates, and she was worried. How would Marc stand up under Giftos’s scorched-earth style?

She had called Marc and suggested that they meet once more before his upcoming testimony. He’d said, “Let me take you out to dinner. You deserve it, and I would rather have this chat over osso buco.”

Now she was waiting for him at Mancini’s, a popular after-work Italian restaurant in the Financial District. She hadn’t been here before and now took in the pleasant ambiance of the place, with its clean lines, brick walls, and cove lighting.

Marc had called to say that he was running late in traffic. Yuki sipped ice water and answered e-mail, and when she looked up, the ma?tre d’ was leading Marc to the table. He apologized for his lateness, bent to kiss her cheek, and sat down beside her.

Marc had always appeared boyish, but he looked younger still this evening. He wore a baby-blue sweater under his blazer. His hair had recently been cut, and his long lashes and dimples completed the look of youthful innocence.

Over drinks and fritto misto Marc said, “I can’t quite believe this trial is for real. It’s like I’m watching a movie about someone else’s life. Online, on TV, everywhere, people are talking about me, what happened, what I said and did. This very personal thing that happened to me is both virtual and hyperreal.”

Yuki understood Marc’s inside and outside perspective. His future turned on a verdict by strangers. He would be vindicated. Or, if the jury went with the defense, Marc would be branded a liar for the rest of his life.

She said to Marc, “You read the transcript. What are your thoughts on Paul’s testimony and Giftos’s cross?”

“I found Paul completely credible,” Marc said. “I could see exactly how it happened. He was scared. He ran. I commend him for slapping the gun out of Briana’s hand. If I’d done that …”

“What about Giftos’s cross-examination?”

“Well, as I read it, it was pure hell for Paul. His testimony was honest, but when it came to the gun identification, he choked. I don’t know if I could identify her gun, either.”

Yuki said, “It was a smooth move by the defense. Not probative, and yet Giftos got it in.”

Marc shook his head. Then he said defiantly, “Giftos can’t shake me. I know what happened.”

It was brave talk. Did he mean it? Or was he talking tough to himself? Yuki had never seen him looking so vulnerable. She felt for him, and she wondered again what was wrong with Briana. Was she a predator who had never been called out before? Or had she, like untold numbers of men in top jobs, taken her executive position at the agency as license to be sexually abusive?

After a long pause Marc asked, “Do you think Briana is going to testify?”

Yuki said, “It’s generally not a good idea to put the defendant on the stand. But in this case I think she has to speak to the jury. If she does, I’ll be ready for her.”

There was no point telling Marc what she was thinking: After Marc gave his testimony, Giftos was going to do his damnedest to gut him.





CHAPTER 55


MARC WENT SILENT and stared at his wineglass.

Yuki wondered if he was worried about what Briana would say on the stand. More likely, he was worried about his own performance. He looked scared.

She reached over and patted his hand.

“You did a perfect job when you testified to the grand jury. You can do this,” she said.

Marc’s trance was broken and he gave her a direct, confident gaze.

“I know. We can do this.”

She was glad that she had persuaded Red Dog to let her try this case. If she won, Marc would be vindicated. Men who’d been sexually assaulted would be more free to say so and to pursue justice in the courts.

Dinner arrived and it was delicious. She had duck breast; he had braised short ribs. She and Marc went off topic and for the first time didn’t strategize about the trial.

Yuki told him about the break she had taken from the DA’s office and what it was like to come back.

“Exhilarating,” she said with a smile.

He confided that he was in line for Briana Hill’s job.

“I’ve been told off the record that it’s mine if I want it,” Marc said. “I don’t think that would look or feel good. I’ll probably go to another agency when this is over. Maybe I’ll relocate—to another country.”