the carpet. Then I continued, being careful with my pronouns. “A tech in that lab saw Kirmani’s mistake and couldn’t live with it. They confronted Kirmani and got threatened with termination. This person knew that would be the likely response, but they did it anyway. The case meant that much. When that failed, and Mitch refused to do anything, the tech came to me.”
Joe smiled, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of goodwill and regret. “To Penn Cage, the white knight.”
“Hey, you’re the one who let everybody call me Marshal Earp.”
A waitress came into our private room, but Joe brusquely waved her away.
“How do you know this whistle-blower is trustworthy?” he asked.
“Gut feeling. And you always trusted my gut, boss.”
“Did you gut-test his alcohol level?”
As I looked back into Joe’s eyes, my head began to spin. “You already know about this. All of it.”
Cantor shrugged noncommittally. “I found out this morning. Mitch Gaines is shitting M-80s, he’s so pissed off. He wants to charge you with breaking-and-entering and obstruction of justice, and that’s just to start.”
“I know you cut that idea off at the knees.”
Cantor waved his hand. “You don’t have to worry about Mitch. But this plea deal is signed, Penn. The Conley kid’s already gone before the judge. The film’s in the can. It can’t be edited anymore.”
“You’ve got to find a way, Joe. Get the plea vacated.”
Cantor’s mouth fell open. “You know I can’t do that! That’s like unbreaking an egg. Look, it’s a raw deal for the girl, but sometimes cases slip through the cracks.”
“Not often in your office, I was always proud to say. I saw you prosecute crooked bankers like they were crack dealers, and crack whores like they were human beings.”
I could see that my open respect for him was moving him, yet still he resisted me. He was hoping I’d give up, but I wasn’t about to. “Joe, listen. If that kid gets off this time, he’s going to do the same thing to some other girl.”
Cantor stared back at me without speaking, silently taking the measure of something within me. For a few seconds I saw what I thought he must have looked like as a soldier in Vietnam, peering into the shadowy depths beneath some jungle canopy. He was making a threat assessment.
“What’s really going on here?” I asked softly. “Conley’s old man has money, but I know that doesn’t mean shit to you. Mitch said you’ve got a big case coming down the pipeline, and suggested you don’t want the integrity of the DNA lab questioned just now. Is he right?”
Joe took a sip of lukewarm coffee. Then he laid his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I’ve wanted Victor Luna’s ass for a long time, you know that. And you know why. He’s a goddamn killer and worse. You couldn’t tally up the lives that drug-smuggling bastard has ruined.” Cantor’s eyes flashed cold fire. “Now I’ve got him by the short hairs, and I’m not about to let go. Yes, I need DNA evidence to convict him, but I believe the DNA lab is solid. Hell, you tried cases yourself based on their findings.”
“Yes, but I always brought in an outside geneticist to review them on capital cases, and to testify.”
Joe raised his forefinger. “Usually. Not always.”
I bristled at this implied threat. “I’ll stand by every case I ever tried. I doubt Mitch Gaines would be excited about doing the same.”
Cantor closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. “You’ve got to let this go, Penn. For the greater good.”
“I can’t do that.”
When his eyes opened, they were full of sincerity. “I‘ll check out the HPD lab, I promise you that. And if that Conley punk is guilty, he’ll get nailed down the road. They always do.”
This stunned me. “After how many more girls have been hurt? Maybe killed?” I shook my head. “This family’s suffering. Maribel Avila may never be able to have kids.”
“I didn’t know that,” he
Joe smiled, his eyes filled with a strange mixture of goodwill and regret. “To Penn Cage, the white knight.”
“Hey, you’re the one who let everybody call me Marshal Earp.”
A waitress came into our private room, but Joe brusquely waved her away.
“How do you know this whistle-blower is trustworthy?” he asked.
“Gut feeling. And you always trusted my gut, boss.”
“Did you gut-test his alcohol level?”
As I looked back into Joe’s eyes, my head began to spin. “You already know about this. All of it.”
Cantor shrugged noncommittally. “I found out this morning. Mitch Gaines is shitting M-80s, he’s so pissed off. He wants to charge you with breaking-and-entering and obstruction of justice, and that’s just to start.”
“I know you cut that idea off at the knees.”
Cantor waved his hand. “You don’t have to worry about Mitch. But this plea deal is signed, Penn. The Conley kid’s already gone before the judge. The film’s in the can. It can’t be edited anymore.”
“You’ve got to find a way, Joe. Get the plea vacated.”
Cantor’s mouth fell open. “You know I can’t do that! That’s like unbreaking an egg. Look, it’s a raw deal for the girl, but sometimes cases slip through the cracks.”
“Not often in your office, I was always proud to say. I saw you prosecute crooked bankers like they were crack dealers, and crack whores like they were human beings.”
I could see that my open respect for him was moving him, yet still he resisted me. He was hoping I’d give up, but I wasn’t about to. “Joe, listen. If that kid gets off this time, he’s going to do the same thing to some other girl.”
Cantor stared back at me without speaking, silently taking the measure of something within me. For a few seconds I saw what I thought he must have looked like as a soldier in Vietnam, peering into the shadowy depths beneath some jungle canopy. He was making a threat assessment.
“What’s really going on here?” I asked softly. “Conley’s old man has money, but I know that doesn’t mean shit to you. Mitch said you’ve got a big case coming down the pipeline, and suggested you don’t want the integrity of the DNA lab questioned just now. Is he right?”
Joe took a sip of lukewarm coffee. Then he laid his elbows on the table and leaned toward me. “I’ve wanted Victor Luna’s ass for a long time, you know that. And you know why. He’s a goddamn killer and worse. You couldn’t tally up the lives that drug-smuggling bastard has ruined.” Cantor’s eyes flashed cold fire. “Now I’ve got him by the short hairs, and I’m not about to let go. Yes, I need DNA evidence to convict him, but I believe the DNA lab is solid. Hell, you tried cases yourself based on their findings.”
“Yes, but I always brought in an outside geneticist to review them on capital cases, and to testify.”
Joe raised his forefinger. “Usually. Not always.”
I bristled at this implied threat. “I’ll stand by every case I ever tried. I doubt Mitch Gaines would be excited about doing the same.”
Cantor closed his eyes and slowly exhaled. “You’ve got to let this go, Penn. For the greater good.”
“I can’t do that.”
When his eyes opened, they were full of sincerity. “I‘ll check out the HPD lab, I promise you that. And if that Conley punk is guilty, he’ll get nailed down the road. They always do.”
This stunned me. “After how many more girls have been hurt? Maybe killed?” I shook my head. “This family’s suffering. Maribel Avila may never be able to have kids.”
“I didn’t know that,” he
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