Dornick was fidgeting in his seat, trying to interrupt, but Terry Finchley shut him up. “Did you find him, Vic?”

I shook my head. “No, but I found these pictures. Mr. Gadsden had put the negatives inside his Bible, and he left it with his aunt the last night he was seen alive. She gave it to me last night, not knowing it held dynamite, just wanting me to return it to her nephew when I found him. It was a pure fluke that I found them … thanks, really, to you, George. If you hadn’t tried one fancy touch too many—fingering me for Alito’s death—I wouldn’t have been on the run. I wouldn’t have dropped the Bible. But that cracked the spine open, and the negatives fell out.”

Bobby flicked a glance in my direction. “Some time you’re going to tell me how you got out of that Lionsgate Manor without my people finding you.”

I smiled bleakly. “Magic, Bobby. It’s the only way a solo op like me can function against high-tech crap like George here has.”

“Those negatives,” Dornick said, contemptuous, “they don’t exist. You manufactured these prints … and not by magic. Anyone could create these out of stock shots of the riot.”

“Yes,” Bobby said. “Where are the negatives, Vicki?”

Vicki. So we were friends again. I looked at my hands.

“Here.” Petra spoke into the silence around the table. “I took them with me into the river.” She pulled the black plastic bag from under her blanket.

49 - GUILT ALL AROUND

49

GUILT ALL AROUND

DORNICK LUNGED FOR THE BAG, BUT ONE OF THE UNIFORMED men put a hand on his shoulder. Another picked up the bag and handed it to Bobby.

“Let the record show that these negatives, which had been in Claudia Ardenne’s Bible and came into my possession last night, are being given to Captain Robert Mallory. There are two dozen negatives, in two strips of twelve each, from film Lamont Gadsden shot in Marquette Park on August 6, 1966.” Nothing in my voice betrayed my overwhelming relief or surprise that Petra had saved the negatives.

Bobby sent for an evidence technician. While we waited, the black trash bag sat next to him on the table. A pool of brackish water spread around it. Dornick couldn’t take his eyes off the water or the bag.

When the tech arrived, Bobby told her that there was valuable evidence in the bag, that he wanted to see the negatives after they’d been saved and logged in. She put the trash bag in a bigger bag, saluted, and left.

There was a commotion in the hall about then, and Harvey Krumas came into the room, trailing lawyers, like a peacock spreading his tail feathers. Freeman arrived at the same time. He was impeccable in black tie, his white-blond hair trimmed within an inch of its life. Les Strangwell was at Harvey’s side.