love her. She’s invited to more of our parties than I am. She’ll probably have your warrant in a couple of hours. She’s already got all the boilerplate from the first search, and she knows the right judge to get it signed in case the probable cause isn’t as clear-cut as they’d like.”
“We’ll want the affidavit sealed,” Kate said.
“That’s what she did before. Do you have time to go see her now?” Kate nodded and Hildebrand picked up the phone. After a brief conversation, he hung up. “She’s in her office. I told her you’re on the way.”
Vail asked, “Do you have a good lock man here?”
“Why?” the SAC asked, and Kate could tell by the intentional flatness in his voice that he intended to question anything Vail requested from now on.
“We still want to do this quietly, probably in the wee hours of the morning,” Vail said.
“We will get you in.”
Kate and Vail stood up, and she shook hands with the SAC. “We appreciate the help, Mark. I’ll let you know how we do.”
Once outside the SAC’s office, Kate said, “Boy, you and management, talk about a match made in heaven. How did you last three years?”
EIGHT
TYE DELSON OFFERED KATE AND VAIL A SEAT IN HER CRAMPED Although there were overhead lights, the only illumination came from a small brass lamp on her desk. The assistant United States attorney was slender and wore a long midcalf black dress that failed to reveal a single curve. Her hair was dark brown and cut short, framing her face symmetrically. Her skin could have been described as flawless if it hadn’t been for its ghostly lack of color. Her lipstick was a waxy brown-red, which Vail thought an unflattering choice. She wore glasses and was one of those rare women who were more attractive because of them. Her eyes were overly made up, which, coupled with the magnification of the glasses, made them appear to be oversized, like one of those Keane paintings of innocent but somehow damaged children. And they had a quick intelligence about them that was almost lost because of a vague nervousness that flickered through them. Her voice, however, was perfectly confident, allaying any fear that she might not be up to the rigors of hacking her way through the legal mazes necessary to put men or women in federal prison.
Vail noticed a framed quote by Martin Luther on her wall: Each lie must have seven lies if it is to resemble the truth and adopt truth’s aura. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”
Tye said, “This is a business of lies. The police lie to suspects to get them to confess, and defense attorneys lie to juries to…well, because that’s what they get paid to do.”
“And prosecutors?”
“We’re the biggest liars of all. We tell ourselves that we’re making a difference,” she said. “Sorry. I know how cynical that sounds. That’s a big part of the reason I’m leaving the United States attorney’s office. I’m thinking about practicing real estate law, where lying is not only assumed, it’s profitable.”
Instead of seating herself behind the desk, she spun her chair around and sat on the windowsill, using the seat for her feet. Vail could see it was a technique that had been used before, and he appreciated that someone who had attained the lofty position of assistant United States attorney had developed the courtesy of not “holding court” across her desk with those who had come for her help. She pulled the window up a couple of inches and lit an unfiltered cigarette, inhaling deeply, the paper pulling at her thin lips with a surprising sensuality.
“I know, I know, all federal buildings are smoke-free. Forgive me my one vice. Well, my one admitted vice.” She grinned a little self-consciously. “So you want another warrant for Stan Bertok’s apartment. Can I assume the search for him isn’t going well?”
“You can,” Kate said. “And we want to go in after midnight.”
“It’ll take a little more probable cause, but it seems like a prudent approach. I’ve got the basics from the other warrants. What exactly do I list as the object of your search?”
“Two million in cash,” Vail said.
Tye laughed with an erotic huskiness, apparently the byproduct of her “one vice.” “Wouldn’t that be nice. Something tells me that even Stan Bertok would be a little more discreet than that.”
“So you know him,” Vail said.
“We’ve had a couple of cases together.”
“What did you think of him?”
“I don’t know how accurate any