While Justice Sleeps(79)
“I’m not my father, but I do know the game a little.” Jared furrowed his brow and offered, “What if you’re not the bishop? What if you’re Lasker? He’s giving you instructions. I think Dad is one of the bishops to be sacrificed to expose the king. He knows you’ll hesitate, so he’s threatening you with Celeste.”
“Making it impossible for me to challenge the directive. Your father would have anticipated that. It will probably go to another judge, who will enforce it. The second one is signed a month after the first. If I balk, it controls.”
“Fuck.”
Avery said, “Let’s agree that your father is one of the bishops. If I’m not one of them, then Ani Ramji must be the other one.” Recalling their discussion in his office, she bit out angrily, “He’s mapped this out like speed chess in the park.”
“How?”
“The Court’s term…his coma. That’s his version of a chess clock. I’m Lasker, making his moves. The murder of Jamie Lewis. The attack in his house. Countermoves.”
“Okay. You’re Lasker. But the question is, who is Bauer in this fucked-up game? Maybe it’s your secret benefactor. Maybe Nigel Cooper, who wants his merger. Hell, maybe my dad thought it was President Stokes, for God’s sake.”
“His primary objective is to save your life. Who would oppose him?”
“You assume that’s his objective. But, conveniently, he’s in a coma,” Jared said tersely. “I know he’s some brilliant god of the law, but this is ridiculous. Crazy. And it’s blackmail. You don’t solve his riddles, and you let him die and kill me. This isn’t right.”
“No, but it lets me know how fast I need to move,” she acknowledged quietly. “Something or someone out there will force the Court to rule in favor of GenWorks, and they can develop the treatment that will save your life. I can use the first directive if I need to, but if I fail, then the second one trumps. Plus, I will likely be disqualified for not sharing it with the Court.”
“My father was ill, Avery. A paranoid man who built an elaborate fantasy to assuage his conscience.” He shook the crumpled letter he held. “He’s ranting about smallpox, damn it!” Standing, he ordered, “Let’s go. We’re not playing this game anymore.”
Avery refused to budge. “This isn’t a game, and he wasn’t crazy. This is the only way to get the research that could help you.”
“Research that may be designed to kill people for believing in Islam. Do you understand how absurd that sounds? My father and a rogue scientist are trying to rig the Court to create a cure they’re not sure exists.”
“He’s desperate,” Avery said softly. “Plus a little crazy.” She peered into the envelope that had held the directives and noticed another envelope, this one slim and white. Handing it to Jared, she said, “Your turn.”
He hesitated, balling his hand into a fist. When Avery continued to hold it out, he took the envelope, opened it, and removed a sheet of paper. Reading quickly, he said, “It’s a copy of a letter to the Department of Homeland Security. Justice Wynn made a Freedom of Information Act request.”
“For what?”
“Chromosomal research grants made by the United States government during the last five years.”
“I haven’t seen those. We’ll have to ask again.” Avery moved to the loft railing that overlooked the lower level. “Jamie Lewis is dead because of something she knew. We can’t quit, Jared. Not until the end of term. One more week.”
Jared didn’t speak, staring at the letter. Then he looked at the constellations on the ceiling. One of the last summers before his world ended. When he’d had a real father. Tracing the grain of the wood along the bedpost, he exhaled volubly. “What do we do next?”
Grateful for his acquiescence, Avery said, “The line about smallpox. I think I remember it.”
“From where?”
“I don’t know.”
Jared frowned. “What about your photographic memory? The eidetic thing.”
“It’s not like people think. I can recall images, yes, but usually not for as long as I could when I was little. I remember a lot of information, more than most people, and my memories are usually right. But I’m not a computer.”
She flapped the codicil and note against her palm. The answer was locked in her mind, and she had no clue of the key. “He’s reminding me of something I know, something he believes I’ve tucked away in my brain. Like you and the bed.” Her fist glanced with frustration off the railing. “But I don’t remember.”
Jared saw the fatigue and strain in her wide, frustrated eyes. He faced her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “We’ll find it…we’ll figure it out. But I don’t think we’ll get any more information here. The answers are in DC.”
“I know.” Avery saw kindness in his eyes, and she felt her body relax for a moment under the comforting touch of his hands. “Thank you, Jared.”
She put the envelopes and letters in her bag, and they descended the stairs. Jared shoved the broken door into place, then went out to the back porch to find some tools. He hammered the doorjamb back into the frame. Not a perfect job, but it would last until he could hire someone to fix it up.