"Heroin. So they said."

"Are you sure, Jackson?"

"They were just street riffraff, but there were plenty of them. Probably be happy to tell you the same thing today if you had any need to hear it. Put them in an angry frame of mind when they had to come up before her, I'll tell you that. Even a thug, Muriel, knows what's fair."

She couldn't tell if she was more astounded or amused. She laughed as she contemplated the whole notion.

"A junkie," said Muriel.

"That's what she was. But she isn't today. Today she's in the chapel of love." Jackson put his car in gear, but he smiled at her with great satisfaction. "See," he said, "it's just like I said."

"What's that?"

"There's just no point to ever give up on a human being."

Chapter 39.

August 23, 2001 First FIRST, THEY f.u.c.kED. He'd heard her say 'talk' in Aires's parking lot, but he knew what was coming. She wasn't through the door thirty seconds before they were together, and he couldn't say who had moved first. There was no logic to resisting. Nothing was going to get any better or worse.

But they were less shocked by themselves and thus more at ease. They went to the center, to that timeless essential place where pleasure becomes our whole purpose on earth. At the end, there was an instant when they were changing positions, her hand was on him, and his hand was in her, they had each other's b.u.t.ton, and as her eyes briefly opened she gave him a grin of perfect celestial delight.

Afterwards, they lay on the same rug that still hadn't been cleaned, naked and silent for quite some time.

"Wow," said Muriel finally. "Home run. Grand slam."

He repeated her words, then went off to the kitchen to get a beer for each of them. When he returned, he took a seat on a stepladder one of the painters had been using.

"So," he said, "I take it this is au revoir."

"You think that's what I came here to say?"

"Isn't it?"

"Not exactly."

"Okay, so tell me."

Nude, she sat up with her hands behind her. He wondered exactly where her t.i.ts had gone. She hadn't had much to start with, but now it was just beans on a plate. Not that he had anything to talk about, with a stomach that got in the way of his hard-on. Life, when you faced it, was cruel.

"Larry, I've done a lot of thinking. I want things that run smack into each other."

"Such as?"

"Am I running for P.A.?"

"You're running. What's next on the checklist?"

She gave him a look. "Do you think it would be as crystal clear if it was your life?"

"It is my life."

"Larry, how can you make love to me like that, then hate me so much ten minutes later?"

"Because I'm not going to make love like that to you again. Right?"

"What if you ease up a little, and come sit beside me, and do something stupid like hold my hand, and talk to me as if we're two people who care a lot for each other, instead of the Palestinians and the Israelis?"

They weren't hand-holding types. He and Muriel never had found a middle ground. Either they were fully joined or completely apart. But he settled next to her on the rug and she circled her arm over his biceps.

"You're right, Larry, I'd like to make this campaign. But I'm not sure that the windup on this case is going to permit that. Either way, though, I'm not walking out on Talmadge today"for the right reasons and the wrong ones, too. I can't win without him"that's the brutal truth. But, Larry, he also deserves better than that from me. I need to look him in the eye and tell him this marriage hasn't gone very well. I've never done that."

"And you think that'll fix things?"

"Look, I married Talmadge on dubious premises. And I don't mean because I'm ambitious and he's ambitious"the truth is, that's the one part that's worked and always will. I'm talking about the way I see myself and see him. You're the one who read me that headline. But I'm going to work that through with my husband, not with you. Wherever that leads. Which, best guess, is probably out the door."

She was asking him to stand by, he realized suddenly. She was telling him they might still have a chance.

"And so what am I supposed to do? See if I can remember the words to 'You Keep Me Hangin' On'? I told you I can't live in between."

"I heard that. And I'm not proposing a life of secret pa.s.sion. For both our sakes, this better stop. I'm just letting you know what I'm thinking. But I haven't paid my subscription to the psychic hotline. Who knows what happens? You said ten years ago you were getting out of your marriage, and you've still got the same address."

"Different situation."

"You get the point."

He did. He looked straight down at the rug. His d.i.c.k, which had always gotten him in so much trouble, was bunched up like a baby. But that wasn't the part that hurt. He was desperate to stay angry, because it would keep the rest of it at bay. In the meantime, her grip tightened on his arm.

"But look"I have to say one more thing. What happened with this case"Gandolph? What was disclosed and what wasn't? A lot of that's my fault. I see that now. You told me you weren't like me and I didn't listen. There's a reason people say not to s.h.i.t where you eat and not to f.u.c.k where you work. And I did it anyway. Because I had to know what it was like to be outside my marriage. I wanted to see how it felt."

"And how was it?"

She looked at him a long time.

"Pretty d.a.m.n good," she said. She stayed there one more second. "But it was stupid and selfish, too. And unprofessional. So if there's blame to pa.s.s out on this case, let it land on me. Whatever the impact on my plans."

He liked that. He liked a lot of what she'd said in the last few minutes. It was honest. Usually, Muriel could be savage about everyone but herself.

"By the way," she said, "speaking of the case, you ready for today's humor?"

"I could use some right now."

She told him what Aires had said about Gillian copping on the street.

"No way," said Larry.

"I scoped it out a little today. Called Gloria Mingham at DEA. Technically speaking, none of this stuff about Gillian is grand jury, but Gloria still didn't like talking about it. She just sort of hummed to me."

"You mean actually hummed, or a figure of speech?"

"Actually hummed, as a matter of fact."

"What was the tune?"

"'Toot, Toot, Tootsie! Goodbye.'"

Larry had a great laugh when he got it. "Gillian tooted? Smoked H?"

"Apparently."

"Makes sense. Can't get a needle into an iceberg, right?"

"Gloria said they had allegations, but nothing they could really nail down. The witnesses were all dopers."

"G.o.d, these people are hypocrites," Larry said.

"The feds?"

"Arthur."

"Maybe Gillian never told him."

"Great. Is this something else we have to disclose to him?"

"I don't think so." Muriel laughed. "I think a court would find that Arthur had ample opportunity to plunge into that body of information." She offered a naughty smile, then abruptly took hold of her chin. He could see her mind had gone elsewhere.

"New idea?" he asked.

"Maybe. Something to consider for this case. Let me think it through."

"And where is this case going? What's the view from the top today?"

She took a second, then asked what he'd thought about Collins's interview.

"Memorable performance," Larry said. "Just like his uncle's. Must run in the blood."

"Do you think he was there? At Paradise?"

"Collins? I know he was there."

"You do?"

"I got Judson's shoes out of Evidence. Collins was right about the brand. And I beat up on the DNA guys all day. They already had a profile on Collins from Faro's b.l.o.o.d.y shirt, and they found plenty of sweat residue inside the shoes. You know, they'd like six years to be definitive, but bottom line, sweat DNA doesn't match the blood on the shoes, but it has the same alleles as the shirt. They're Collins's shoes"not that the DNA guys could have told you that in'91."

She took a slug of her beer while she thought it through.

"That change anything for you?" he asked.

"Nada."

I.e., she already believed Collins had been at the scene.

"Well, I'll tell you something I don't believe," he said. "I don't buy the innocent-bystander s.h.i.t. No kidding Erno told Collins the police would think he was involved in the murders. You telling me you drag around dead bodies when you had nothing to do with the killings?"

"It's a strange story," allowed Muriel. "But family stuff is strange. The only way you know about Collins moving the bodies is because he told you"the same reason you know about the shoes."

"So you don't think he was in on it?"

"Only Erno's prints are on the trigger and the handle, and they're in Luisa's blood, Larry, right?"

"Her type anyway. I didn't pound the DNA guys on Luisa"you can imagine the backtalk I was getting already and the serology was pretty conclusive." The blood on the gun was all B negative. Only 2 percent of the population were B negatives and Luisa Remardi had been one of them. Judson, Gus, Collins were all type Os. Larry had held out some faint hope that Erno was B neg, but the jail hospital said no. To Larry, though, Erno being the shooter wasn't the whole story.

"My big one is still the same," he told her. "I don't buy that Rommy had nothing to do with it. Maybe Erno and Squirrel confronted Luisa and Collins together. But Collins is just finishing the job his uncle started, taking Rommy out, because he dummied up for them."

"You really see Rommy as a stand-up guy, Larry? He couldn't even stand up for himself. Besides, there's just no evidence to back that."

Larry had an idea, however. He had half a dozen cadets on standby for tomorrow. He wanted a search warrant that would allow them to dig under Erno's tool-shed in hopes of finding everything taken from the victims at Paradise on the night of the murders. Collins said Erno had recently flirted with having the ap.r.o.n dug up to confirm his testimony, but had realized Collins's prints were likely to be found on several items. Larry suspected that Erno was also hiding Squirrel's prints or DNA.

"You'll have the warrant by 10 a.m., and I'll be rooting for you, Larry, believe me. But if we don't find some speck that ties to Squirrel, it's going to be one more biggie on their side. All the forensics back Erno and Collins now. If that stuff is there like Collins said and only his prints and Erno's are on it, we'll be toast. It's a new trial, Larry."

"A new trial?"

"We can fool around for a year and a half in front of Harlow, when the Court of Appeals sends the case back, but long story short, if you look at all of it"the testimony, the prints, the DNA, the records suggesting Squirrel was in the can at the time of the murders"" She paused over the magnitude of what she was saying. "Gandolph's habeas gets granted."

She might have been right on the law, but he could also see she didn't want the bad news bleeding out, making headlines day after day for her election opponent.

"And that's not the bad part," she said.

"What's the bad part?"

"We can't try this case again."

"Because of Collins?"

"Collins has told two different stories, blaming and saving the same guy. He's a dope peddler and a fraud by his own account, and gets impeached with three felony convictions. He can praise Jesus all he likes. A jury will still hold its nose when he gets on the stand. My problem is how we get the cameo into evidence."

"How about the same way we did last time? I testify."

"No chance, Larry. A lot of weird stuff happens in a courtroom. I'm not going to say I haven't had a chuckle or two listening to my own witnesses, but I've never put somebody on the stand knowing he was going to commit perjury. And I'm not going to start now."

"Perjury?"

"That's what they call it, Larry, when you make up stuff under oath." She was looking straight at him, and not as she had a moment ago. This was Muriel the Fearless.