“I was not elected to work with you or anyone,” Gorelick stated. “It is my job to set trial dates that please the court, and that is what I have done. Vacation plans are not the business of the court, and you will have to make whatever adjustments are necessary. As will everyone else involved.”

Hammer noted that Gorelick was overbuffed as usual. She had a penchant for short skirts, bright colors, and open necklines that were an invitation whenever she bent over to look at documents, dockets, or cases. She wore too much makeup, especially mascara. There were rumors about her many affairs, but Hammer had chosen to view these as unfounded until this moment. This was the woman the cops called the D.A. Whorelick. She was lower than dirt and a slut. Office psychology dictated that Hammer should get up from her chair.

She did, and leaned against the desk, helping herself to her opponent’s domain, breathing all the air she wished, picking up a crystal paperweight of USBank and fiddling with it. Hammer was very comfortable and in charge. She spoke rationally, softly, and sincerely.

“The press, of course, has been calling me about yesterday’s incident,” Hammer confessed, and her fooling with the paperweight was clearly bothering Gorelick. “National press. The Washington Post, Time, Newsweek, CBS This Morning, Jay Leno, New York Times, Don Imus, Howard Stern.” She began to pace, tapping the USBank in her palm, as if it were a slapjack. “They’ll want to cover the trial, I’m sure. It’s a big story, I guess.” She paced and tapped. “I suppose when you stop to think about it, when has something like this ever happened? That reminds me.” She laughed. “Some studio and a couple producers from Hollywood called, too. Can you imagine?”

Gorelick wasn’t feeling well. “It is an unusual situation,” she had to agree.

“An amazing example of community policing, Nancy. People doing the right thing.” Hammer paced and gestured with the little crystal building wearing a crown. “Your treating a chief and deputy chief just like anyone else, making no special considerations.” She nodded. “I think all those reporters are going to like that. Don’t you?”

Gorelick would be ruined, would look like the dickhead she was. Someone would run against her next fall. She’d have to go work in a law firm as a lowly junior attorney to a bunch of overbearing partners who wouldn’t want her to join their exclusive ranks.

“I’m going to tell them all about it.” Hammer smiled at her. “Right now. I guess the best thing would be a press conference.”

The court date was moved ahead a week and landed on a day convenient for all, except Johnny Martino, a.k.a. Magic the Man, who was sitting in his jail cell, dejected in a blaze orange jumpsuit with DEPT OF CORR stenciled in on the back. Everybody in the Corr wore one, and now and then, when he gave much thought to the matter, he wondered what the hell the Corr was. As in Marine Corps, Peace Corps, C&O Rail Road maybe? His old man worked for Amtrak, cleaning up cars after all those passengers got off.