ensuing sound you’ll be hearing is your fading chances of being the AG, much less getting a seat on the Supreme Court.”
Beth waited, envisioning Mona walking to her office, slamming the door, and—
Mona’s voice barked out, “Listen, Perry, I don’t appreciate you talking like that in front of my people!”
“You can either address me as Beth or Chief. You use surnames for underlings. I am not your underling.”
“What do you want?”
“I read your letter.”
“Well? I thought it was pretty self-explanatory.”
“Yeah, you caved. In record time. And I want to know why.”
“I don’t have to explain my actions to you.”
“You wrote me a CYA letter that basically says you’ve washed your hands of Jamie Meldon’s murder investigation. What, did somebody threaten that you wouldn’t get the USA nod if you didn’t go quietly into the night? So much for him being one of your people.”
“If you were smart you’d back off too, Chief.”
“It has nothing to do with self-preservation, Mona. It has to do with right and wrong. And something called integrity.”
“Oh please. I don’t need you to read me an ethics lesson.”
“So what are you going to tell Meldon’s wife and kids? ‘Sorry, my career’s too important. Just get over Jamie’s murder and move on’?”
“I’m running the largest U.S. Attorney’s Office in the country. I don’t have time to run down every little—”
“This isn’t little, Mona. Homicide is as big as it gets. Someone is out there who took Jamie’s life.”
“Then you tackle it if you care so much.”
“A little tough to do when I was barred from the crime scene.”
“Can’t help you there.”
“So that’s your last word on it?”
“You bet it is!”
“Okay, here’s mine. I will tackle this. And if I find the least bit of evidence that you or anyone in your office impeded our investigation, I will personally see to it that your Armani-covered ass lands right in prison.”
Beth slammed down the phone, sat back, and took a deep breath. Her BlackBerry had been buzzing nonstop during her entire conversation. She checked it. Ninety-three e-mails all marked urgent. She had six meetings stacked back-to-back, the first of which was scheduled to begin in twenty minutes. Then she had two hours patrolling in Cruiser One and a roll call in the Second District, followed by her headlining two community events that evening. She also had to oversee the posting of nearly two hundred intersection cops because the president wanted to go to lunch at his favorite dive in Arlington, the Secret Service had informed her at six-thirty this morning.
A murder in Ward Nine last night had interrupted what little sleep she usually got. She’d finally made it to her couch at four a.m., catnapped for two hours, and was in the office at seven. Typical day in the neighborhood. And then there was the information she’d just received thirty minutes ago that had to do with Roy Kingman and her sister. Her phone buzzed again.
“Chief.”
It was Pierce. “Guys in Social Services want to know what you want to do with Alisha Rogers and her son. They don’t have room for them past this morning. Records show she has her own place so they say their hands are tied unless you really insist.”
And if I do insist, someone will leak it to the press and tomorrow’s breaking story will be about the police chief abusing her authority to get personal favors unavailable to other needy citizens—
“Donna, reschedule my first three meetings until this afternoon. Just cram them in somehow. I’ve got somewhere I have to go. Tell Social they can release Alisha and her son into my personal custody.”
Beth pulled out her cell phone and punched in a number. “It’s Beth. We need to deal with this. Now.”
“I know,” answered Abe Altman. “I know.”
CHAPTER 75
MACE HAD JUST finished breakfast and was pouring a second cup of coffee when Altman came into the eating area right off the kitchen.
“Hope you slept well,” he said. “Not bad. Met Rick Cassidy on my run this morning.”
“A wonderful young man. He was planning on leaving the Navy to be closer to his sister, so I thought a job here would fit into that. She goes to George Washington and has accepted a full-time position with the World Bank in D.C.”
“That was really nice what you did for her.”
“When a poor man gives something, that is a sacrifice indeed. When a rich man gives something, it hardly rises to the same level.”
“Well, I know some rich people who never give anything.”