“No. It’s not. We both know, top lawyers are over a thousand an hour. Experts, research, all the horseshit, ain’t no justice anymore, money is how we mostly keep score. Something goes off the rails, or even looks like it might cause stress, we both want the kind of lawyer that can drop in on the DA and not have to mention how much he contributed to the DA’s campaign fund, since they both know the amount down to the dime—and oh, the power of words unspoken—and the DA can decide it’s not enough to go to trial on, and he pushes it away like he did for the Trump kids and Weinstein and Epstein. We know of those, only because other factors pulled them out of obscurity and made them famous, but I’d guess there are plenty more. Read your own giant posters.”

“To make a commitment…”

I leaned in close and whispered, “Do we need to do it this way? Do you want to know how fucked you are before you sign it?”

She didn’t say anything but she did need it laid out. Because that’s who she was. Short term, it was a game. Long term, would one of us have to destroy the other?

I explained it, starting nice and reasonable, casual and conversational. “I’m pretty sure that there’s no evidence at the scene that definitely connects to anyone. Nothing that can’t be explained away or accounted for.” Then to the point: “Except for one thing. There are bullets. A couple in his body and one or two that probably passed through. Which the police now have as evidence. They need a gun to match them to. It could turn out to be yours. The pink and black one. If they had the cartridges, the cartridges would have your prints on them. They don’t have them, but they could have them.”

“I want the gun back,” she said. Who wouldn’t?

“Forget it.”

“I insist.”

“Not negotiable. Don’t even try.”

She let that stand. For now. She switched, “Who are these associates? It can’t be unlimited.”

Not a bad question. Allison might be on. Or maybe that was terribly wrong. The way things were going, there might be another. Not more than that. I hoped. “Two,” I said. “You can make it no more than two.”

“Is one of them that girl?”

“I’ll let you know names when appropriate.”

“If it is, she could well be what we’re looking for.”

I had to admit, Elizabeth was, in her own sociopathic way, truly amazing. No matter the danger or difficulties, her only urge was to lunge forward to devour more and more of what was ahead of her. Shark is the popular image.

“Well, wouldn’t she be?”

She was possibly correct. Would Allison want to be among the mad?

—