Final judgment

TWENTY

“Okay, I’m listening,” Mason said.

“Your client needs to take this deal,” she said.

“Deal? What deal? Help out with some mysterious investigation that’s too top secret to tell us about? Give me a break.”

“It’s important and your client is in deep trouble.”

Wearing slacks and a waist-cut jacket over a blouse, Kelly could have passed for anyone from a soccer mom to an executive on casual day. The giveaway was in her eyes and jaw, where there was no give. He studied her, remembering their past. She was tough then, letting her guard down a little but not enough that he could say he ever really knew her. Her wall was up again and their past was forgotten. Mason waited as one of the elevators opened again and several people got out, brushing past them.

“It’s always important when the government wants to trade lives,” he said. “My client needs more time to think it over.”

“There isn’t a lot of time. What can I tell you to make it easier for him to decide?”

“Other than the details on what you want him to do?”

“Other than that.”

“Okay. Why did the FBI have Rockley under surveillance?”

“We didn’t.”

“C’mon, Kelly,” Mason snapped. “We both know that Blues is the guy in that photograph and that’s how you tied Fish to Rockley.”

“That doesn’t mean we had Rockley under surveillance.” Mason cocked his head, surprised at her insistence. Then he remembered Blues telling him that someone else had been snooping around Rockley’s apartment, talking to neighbors, without identifying himself. The FBI always left business cards.

“So where did you get the picture?”

It was Kelly’s turn to hesitate. She glanced around to make certain no one else was within earshot.

“It was attached to an e-mail we intercepted.”

“It’s hard to get a warrant to intercept e-mail. It’s even harder to get a warrant to hack into someone’s computer and search their stored e-mails. This must be some big case you’re working on.”

“The Patriot Act makes it a lot easier.”

“Are you telling me that Rockley was mixed up with terrorists?”

“The Patriot Act isn’t limited to terrorists.”

Mason knew she was right. The Justice Department had taken advantage of its new powers in a wide range of cases that had nothing to do with terrorism. The ACLU and criminal defense bar had complained, but no one had heard them. The Bill of Rights was eroding against the tide of better safe than sorry.

“So if Rockley wasn’t a terrorist, who was he?”

“A murder victim,” Kelly said.

“Who just happens to pop up in an overnight DNA search? I don’t think so. You have any idea how long it takes me to get DNA results in a criminal case? Months. Every criminal defendant in America wants his DNA tested. There aren’t enough labs to run all the tests and nobody gets results, even preliminary results, overnight.”

“We’re the FBI. We don’t have to wait.”

“I don’t buy that. I don’t think you tested the murder victim’s DNA sample, ran it through the Bureau’s database, and just got a lucky match, all in less than twenty-four hours. The only way you could have gotten the results that fast is if you knew who you were looking for. I think you tested the sample against Rockley’s DNA because you already had his on file and you suspected he was the murder victim. So who the hell was Rockley?”

Kelly shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit. Still too smart for your own good. Just don’t wait until it’s too late to make up your mind.”