Read Online The Last Justice by Anthony Franze - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anthony Franze
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there anything here that might explain why someone would do this to you?"
"You've read this," McKenna said as he picked up the book. "You know this is two hundred pages of nothing but dead-end leads and speculation."
"So you're giving up?" she challenged. Kate pointed to the briefing book. "Read this again. And again and again if you need to. And think." She shoved the duffel bag at him. "I'm supposed to meet with the FBI tonight. It won't surprise me if they've heard rumors about us, so it could be a long night."
McKenna opened the bag. There was a cell phone and what looked like about a thousand dollars in cash.
"My rainy day shoebox money," she said. Pointing to his bloodstained shirt, she added, "If I'd known, I would have brought some of the clothes you left at my place ... Never mind-my brother's about your size, so you can grab something from his closet."
McKenna pulled the cell phone from the duffel.
"I bought it from that street vendor in front of the office," Kate said. "I tried it out and it works."
"Thank you," McKenna said. "You didn't have to do this. You're taking a huge risk helping me."
"I know. So you need to promise me something, Jefferson."
He gazed into her eyes and nodded.
"Promise me that if you don't figure this out soon, you'll stop this nonsense and let me call our contacts on the commission."
"I promise," he said reluctantly.
"I'll hold you to that," Kate replied. "I should go now."
McKenna walked her to the door, where she turned and kissed him as if it would be their last. "Good-bye, Jefferson."
7:30p.m. Home ofJudge Petrov, Upper West Side, Manhattan
alm down, Liddy," Judge Petrov said into the phone. He fell back into his leather chair in the study of his spacious apartment and took a long sip of his glass of single malt Scotch.
His wife, Katherine, stood nearby shaking her head. Having spent the better part of an hour on the phone with Liddy Kincaid, she had pawned the increasingly unhinged woman off on her husband. As she had reminded Petrov repeatedly, Liddy was technically his friend, since the late chief justice was his mentor.
Originally, Katherine Petrov had humored the Kincaids because she thought it might help her husband's career. Also, Chief Justice Kincaid was from old money and the association had opened doors to a set that ordinarily would not have accepted Katherine, whose wealth was of more recent vintage-her first husband had been a successful investment banker until he died of a heart attack.
Petrov had learned about the wealthy widow from mutual friends. Knowing that his judicial salary would never afford him the power and lifestyle that real money brings, Petrov straightaway began orchestrating his courtship. From friends, acquaintances, and even Google, he learned everything he could about Katherine: where she ate lunch (every Tuesday at Elaine's), her hobbies (antiques and bad but expensive art), her favorite flower (big, garish lilies with shirtstaining pollen). And from there, a "chance" meeting, followed by a date. Katherine had been flattered by the attention of a man nearly twenty years her junior-Petrov could always be charming when he needed to be. Now, with the marriage a fait accompli, their relationship was one of convenience.
Katherine eyed her husband and seemed to revel in his obvious discomfort and the dreadful awkwardness of his efforts to console Liddy Kincaid. She waved sarcastically as she left the study.
"The news says this man, the solicitor general, may be involved with Thomas's murder," Liddy hissed into Petrov's ear. "I want the bastard dead!" She had gone from sobbing just moments ago to pure rage.
"Liddy, you shouldn't be talking that way," Petrov said in an oily, patronizing tone. Given the off-the-record reports he had gotten from friends on the Supreme Court Commission, Liddy of all people should not be talking about murdering anyone. "How are your grandchildren?" he said in a clumsy attempt to change the subject. But
"You've read this," McKenna said as he picked up the book. "You know this is two hundred pages of nothing but dead-end leads and speculation."
"So you're giving up?" she challenged. Kate pointed to the briefing book. "Read this again. And again and again if you need to. And think." She shoved the duffel bag at him. "I'm supposed to meet with the FBI tonight. It won't surprise me if they've heard rumors about us, so it could be a long night."
McKenna opened the bag. There was a cell phone and what looked like about a thousand dollars in cash.
"My rainy day shoebox money," she said. Pointing to his bloodstained shirt, she added, "If I'd known, I would have brought some of the clothes you left at my place ... Never mind-my brother's about your size, so you can grab something from his closet."
McKenna pulled the cell phone from the duffel.
"I bought it from that street vendor in front of the office," Kate said. "I tried it out and it works."
"Thank you," McKenna said. "You didn't have to do this. You're taking a huge risk helping me."
"I know. So you need to promise me something, Jefferson."
He gazed into her eyes and nodded.
"Promise me that if you don't figure this out soon, you'll stop this nonsense and let me call our contacts on the commission."
"I promise," he said reluctantly.
"I'll hold you to that," Kate replied. "I should go now."
McKenna walked her to the door, where she turned and kissed him as if it would be their last. "Good-bye, Jefferson."
7:30p.m. Home ofJudge Petrov, Upper West Side, Manhattan
alm down, Liddy," Judge Petrov said into the phone. He fell back into his leather chair in the study of his spacious apartment and took a long sip of his glass of single malt Scotch.
His wife, Katherine, stood nearby shaking her head. Having spent the better part of an hour on the phone with Liddy Kincaid, she had pawned the increasingly unhinged woman off on her husband. As she had reminded Petrov repeatedly, Liddy was technically his friend, since the late chief justice was his mentor.
Originally, Katherine Petrov had humored the Kincaids because she thought it might help her husband's career. Also, Chief Justice Kincaid was from old money and the association had opened doors to a set that ordinarily would not have accepted Katherine, whose wealth was of more recent vintage-her first husband had been a successful investment banker until he died of a heart attack.
Petrov had learned about the wealthy widow from mutual friends. Knowing that his judicial salary would never afford him the power and lifestyle that real money brings, Petrov straightaway began orchestrating his courtship. From friends, acquaintances, and even Google, he learned everything he could about Katherine: where she ate lunch (every Tuesday at Elaine's), her hobbies (antiques and bad but expensive art), her favorite flower (big, garish lilies with shirtstaining pollen). And from there, a "chance" meeting, followed by a date. Katherine had been flattered by the attention of a man nearly twenty years her junior-Petrov could always be charming when he needed to be. Now, with the marriage a fait accompli, their relationship was one of convenience.
Katherine eyed her husband and seemed to revel in his obvious discomfort and the dreadful awkwardness of his efforts to console Liddy Kincaid. She waved sarcastically as she left the study.
"The news says this man, the solicitor general, may be involved with Thomas's murder," Liddy hissed into Petrov's ear. "I want the bastard dead!" She had gone from sobbing just moments ago to pure rage.
"Liddy, you shouldn't be talking that way," Petrov said in an oily, patronizing tone. Given the off-the-record reports he had gotten from friends on the Supreme Court Commission, Liddy of all people should not be talking about murdering anyone. "How are your grandchildren?" he said in a clumsy attempt to change the subject. But
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