"Bobby, my sources tell me the sheriff's officer in charge of the jury owes you a favor," Weeks said.

"What are you talking about, Jimmy?" Bob Kinellen toyed with his salad fork.

"You know what I'm talking about. You got his kid out of trouble, big trouble. He's grateful."

"And?"

"Bobby, I think the sheriff's officer has to let that prune-face, uptight Wagner dame know that her daddy, the murderer, is going to make big headlines unless she comes up with some reasonable doubt when this case goes to the jury."

Lie down with dogs and you'll get up with fleas. Kerry had told him that before Robin was born.

"Jimmy, we already have grounds for a new trial because she didn't reveal that fact. That's our ace in the hole. We don't need to take it any further." Bob shot a glance at his father- in-law. "Anthony and I are sticking our necks out by not reporting that to the court as it is. We can get away with claiming that it only came to our attention after the trial was over. Even if you're convicted you'll be out on bail, and then we delay and delay and delay."

"Not good enough, Bobby. This time you've got to put yourself on the line. Have a friendly chat with the sheriff's officer. He'll listen. He'll talk to the lady who already is in trouble for lying on her questionnaire. Then we have a hung jury, if not an acquittal. And then we delay and delay and delay while you two figure out a way to make sure we get an acquittal next time."

The waiter returned with their appetizers. Bob Kinellen had ordered the escargots, a specialty here that he thoroughly enjoyed. It was only when he finished and the waiter was removing the plate that he realized he hadn't tasted a thing. Jimmy isn't the only one who's being backed into a corner, he thought.

I'm right there with him.

Kerry went back to her office after the call from Si Morgan came through. She was now convinced that Arnott was irrevocably tied in some way to Suzanne Reardon's death. Just how, though, would have to wait until he was in custody and she and Frank Green had had a chance to interrogate him.

There was a pile of messages on her desk, one of which, from Jonathan, was marked "Urgent." He had left his private number at his local office. She called him immediately.

"Thanks for calling back, Kerry. I have to come over to Hackensack and I want to talk to you. Buy you lunch?"

A few weeks ago, he had started the conversation with "Buy you lunch, Judge?"

Kerry knew the omission today was not accidental. Jonathan played it straight. If the political fallout from her investigation cost Frank Green the nomination, she would have to forget about a judgeship, no matter how justified she had been. That was politics, and besides, there were plenty of other highly qualified people panting for the job.

"Of course, Jonathan."

"Solari's at one-thirty."

She was sure she knew why he was calling. He had heard about Dr. Smith and was worried about her and Robin.

She dialed Geoff's office. He was having a sandwich at his desk.

"I'm glad I'm sitting down," he told her when she filled him in about Arnott.

"The FBI will be photographing and cataloguing everything they find in the Catskill house. Morgan said the decision hasn't been made whether to move everything into a warehouse or to just invite the people who've been robbed to come and identify their stuff right at that site. However they do it, when Green and I go up to talk to Arnott we want Mrs. Reardon along to positively identify the picture frame."

"I'll ask her to postpone going in for the angioplasty for a few days. Kerry, one of our a.s.sociates was in federal court this morning. He tells me that Royce requested an extra hour for the lunch break. The word is that he may be offering immunity to Jimmy Weeks' bookkeeper. He's not going to take a chance on losing another prize witness by playing hardball."

"It's coming to a head, then?"

"Exactly."

"Have you called Skip about Smith's letter?"

"Right after I talked to you."

"What was his reaction?"

"He started to cry." Geoff's voice became husky. "I did too. He's going to get out, Kerry, and you're the reason."

"No, you're wrong. You and Robin are. I was ready to turn my back on him."

"We'll argue about that another time. Kerry, Deidre Reardon's on the other phone. I've been trying to reach her. I'll talk to you later. I don't want you and Robin alone in your place tonight."

Before Kerry left to meet Jonathan, she dialed Joe Palumbo's cellular phone. He answered on the first ring. "Palumbo."

"It's Kerry, Joe."

"Recess is over. Robin is back inside. I'm parked in front of the main entrance, which is the only unlocked door. I'll drive her home and stay with her and the sitter." He paused. Don't worry, Momma. I'll take good care of your baby."

"I know you will. Thanks, Joe."

It was time to meet Jonathan. As she hurried out to the corridor and rushed through the just-closing elevator door, Kerry kept thinking about the missing pin. Something about it seemed familiar. The two parts. The flower and the bud, like a mother and child. A momma and a baby... why did that seem to ring a bell? she wondered.

Jonathan was already seated at the table, sipping a club soda. He got up when he saw her coming. His brief, familiar hug was rea.s.suring. "You look very tired, young lady," he said. "Or is it very stressed?"

Whenever he talked to her like that, Kerry felt the remembered warmth of the days when her father was alive and felt a rush of grat.i.tude that Jonathan in so many ways had been a surrogate father to her.

"It's been quite a day so far," she said as she sat down. "Did you hear about Dr. Smith?"

"Grace called me. She heard the news when she was having breakfast at ten o'clock. Sounds like more of Weeks' handiwork. We're both heartsick with worry about Robin."

"So am I. But Joe Palumbo, one of our investigators, is outside her school. He'll stay with her till I get home."

The waiter was at the table. "Let's order," Kerry suggested, "and then I'll fill you in."

They both decided on onion soup, which arrived almost immediately. While they were eating, she told him about the Federal Express package with all the jewelry and the letter from Dr. Smith.

"You make me ashamed that I tried to dissuade you from your investigation, Kerry," Jonathan said quietly. "I'll do my best, but if the governor decides Green's nomination is in jeopardy, it would be like him to take it out on you."

"Well, at least there's hope," Kerry said. "And we can thank Grace for the tip she gave the FBI." She told him what she had learned about Jason Arnott. "I can see where Frank Green is already planning to defuse negative publicity about Skip Reardon being unfairly prosecuted. He's dying to announce that the cat burglar who murdered Congressman Peale's mother was captured because of a tip from the wife of Senator Hoover. You're going to come out of this as his best friend, and who can blame him? G.o.d knows you're probably the most respected politician in New Jersey."

Jonathan smiled. "We can always stretch the truth and say that Grace consulted Green first and he urged her to make the call." Then the smile vanished. "Kerry, how does Arnott's possible guilt in the Reardon case affect Robin? Is there a possibility that Arnott is the one who took that picture of her and sent it to you?" "No way. Robin's own father pa.s.sed along the warning and in essence admitted that Jimmy Weeks had that picture taken."

"What's the next step?"

"Probably that Frank Green and I will bring Deidre Reardon up to the Catskills first thing tomorrow morning to positively identify that miniature frame. Arnott should be being cuffed right about now. They'll keep him in the local jail, at least for the present. Then, once they start connecting the stolen goods to specific burglaries, they'll begin arraigning him in different locations. My guess is they're itching to try him first for the murder of Congressman Peale's mother. And, of course, if he was responsible for Suzanne Reardon's death, we'll want to try him here."

"Suppose he won't talk?"

"We're sending flyers to all the jewelers in New Jersey, naturally concentrating on Bergen County since both Weeks and Arnott live here. My guess is that one of those jewelers will recognize the more contemporary jewelry and tie it to Weeks, and that the antique bracelet will turn out to be from Arnott. When it was found on Suzanne's arm it obviously had a new clasp, and the bracelet is so unusual some jeweler might remember it. The more we can find to use in confronting Arnott, the easier it should be to make him try to strike a deal."

"Then you expect to leave early in the morning for the Catskills?"

"Yes. I'm certainly not going to leave Robin alone in the house in the morning again, but if it turns out that Frank wants to be on the road very early, I'll see if the sitter will stay over."

"I have a better idea. Let Robin stay with us tonight. I'll drop her off at school in the morning, or, if you want, you can that Palumbo man pick her up. Our house has state-of-the-art security. You know that. I'll be there, of course, and I don't know whether you realize that even Grace has a gun in her table drawer. I taught her to use it years ago. Besides, I really think it would be good for Grace to have Robin visit. She's been rather down lately, and Robin is such fun to have around."

Kerry smiled. "Yes, she is." She thought for a moment. "Jonathan, that really could work. I really should get some work in on another case I'll be trying, and then I want to go through the Reardon file with a fine-toothed comb to see if there's anything more I can pick up to use when we question Arnott. I'll call Robin when I know she's home from school and tell her the plan. She'll be delighted. She's crazy about you and Grace, and she loves the pink guest room."

"It used to be yours, remember?" "Sure. How could I forget? That's back when I was telling Grace's cousin, the landscaper, that he was a crook."

The extended recess over, U.S. Attorney Royce returned to court for the afternoon trial session of the United States versus James Forrest Weeks. He went secure in the knowledge that behind her timid, una.s.suming facade, Martha Luce had the memory of a personal computer. The d.a.m.ning evidence that would finally nail Jimmy Weeks was spilling from her as she responded to the gentle prodding of two of Royce's a.s.sistants.

Luce's nephewIattorney, Royce admitted to himself, had possibilities. He insisted that before Martha began singing, the bargain she was striking had to be signed and witnessed. In exchange for her honest and forthright cooperation, which she would not later rescind, any possible federal or other criminal or civil charges would not be pressed against her either now or in the future.

Martha Luce's evidence would come later, however. The prosecution case was unfolding in a straightforward way. Today's witness was a restaurateur who in exchange for having his lease renewed admitted to paying a five-thousand-dollar-a-month cash bonus to Jimmy's collector.

When it was the defense's turn to cross-examine, Royce was kept busy jumping to his feet with objections as Bob Kinellen jabbed at the witness, catching him in small errors, forcing him to admit that he had never actually seen Weeks touch the money, that he really couldn't be sure that the collector hadn't been working on his own. Kinellen is good, Royce thought, too bad he's wasting his talent on this sc.u.m.

Royce could not know that Robert Kinellen was sharing that same thought even as he grandstanded to a receptive jury.

Jason Arnott knew there was something terribly wrong the minute he walked in the door of his Catskill home and realized that Maddie was not there.

If Maddie's not here and she didn't leave a note, then something is happening. It's all over, he thought. How long before they would close in on him? Soon, he was sure.

Suddenly he was hungry. He rushed to the refrigerator and pulled out the smoked salmon he had asked Maddie to pick up. Then he reached for the capers and cream cheese and the package of toast points. A bottle of Pouilly-Fuiss was chilling.

He prepared a plate of salmon and poured a gla.s.s of wine. Carrying them with him, he began to walk through the house. A kind of final tour, he thought, as he a.s.sessed the riches around him. The tapestry in the dining room--exquisite. The Aubusson in the living room--a privilege to walk on such beauty. The Chaim Gross bronze sculpture of a slender figure holding a small child in the palm of her hand. Gross had loved the mother-and- child theme. Arnott remembered that Gross's mother and sister had died in the Holocaust.

He would need a lawyer, of course. A good lawyer. But who? A smile made his lips twitch. He knew just the one: Geoffrey Dorso, who for ten years had so relentlessly worked for Skip Reardon. Dorso had quite a reputation and might be willing to take on a new client, especially one who could give him evidence that would help him spring poor Reardon.

The front doorbell rang. He ignored it. It rang again, then continued persistently. Arnott chewed the last toast point, relishing the delicate flavor of the salmon, the pungent bite of the capers.

The back doorbell was chiming now. Surrounded, he thought. Ah, well. He had known it would happen someday. If he had only obeyed his instincts last week and left the country. Jason sipped the last of the wine, decided another gla.s.s would be welcome and went back to the kitchen. There were faces at all the windows now, faces with the aggressive, self-satisfied look of men who have the right to exercise might.

Arnott nodded to them and held up the gla.s.s in a mocking toast. As he sipped, he walked to the back door, opened it, then stood aside as they rushed in. "FBI, Mr. Arnott," they shouted. "We have a warrant to search your home."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," he murmured, "I beg you to be careful. There are many beautiful, even priceless objects here. You may not be used to them, but please respect them. Are your feet muddy?"

Kerry called Robin at three-thirty. She and Alison were at the computer, Robin told her, playing one of the games Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Grace had given her. Kerry told her the plan: "I have to work late tonight and be on the way by seven tomorrow. Jonathan and Grace really would like to have you stay with them, and I'd feel good knowing you're there."

"Why was Mr. Palumbo parked outside our school and why did he drive me home and why is he parked outside now? Is it because I'm in really big danger?"

Kerry tried to sound matter-of-fact. "Hate to disappoint you, but it's just a precaution, Rob. The case is really coming to a head."

"Cool. I like Mr. Palumbo, and, okay, I'll stay with Aunt Grace and Uncle Jonathan. I like them too. But what about you? Will Mr. Palumbo stay in front of the house for you?"

"I won't be home till late, and when I get there, the local cops will drive by every fifteen minutes or so. That's all I need."

"Be careful, Mom." For a moment, Robin's bravado vanished, and she sounded like a frightened little girl.

"You be careful, sweetheart. Do your homework."

"I will. And I'm going to ask Aunt Grace if I can pull out her old photo alb.u.ms again. I love looking at the old clothes and hairstyles, and if I remember it right, they are arranged in the order they were taken. I thought I might get some ideas, since our next a.s.signment in camera cla.s.s is to create a family alb.u.m so that it really tells a story."

"Yeah, there are some great pictures there. I used to love to go through those alb.u.ms when I was house-sitting," Kerry reminisced. "I used to count to see how many different servants Aunt Grace and Uncle Jonathan grew up with. I still think about them sometimes when I'm pushing the vacuum or folding the wash."

Robin giggled. "Well, hang in there. You may win the lottery someday. Love you, Mom."

At five-thirty, Geoff phoned from his car. "You'll never guess where I am." He didn't wait for an answer. "I was in court this afternoon. Jason Arnott had been trying to reach me. He left a message."

"Jason Arnott!" Kerry exclaimed.

"Yes. When I got back to him a few minutes ago, he said he has to talk to me immediately. He wants me to take his case."

"Would you represent him?"

"I couldn't because he's connected to the Reardon case, and I wouldn't if I could. I told him that, but he still insists on seeing me."

"Geoff! Don't let him tell you anything that would have lawyer- client privilege."

Geoff chuckled. "Thank you, Kerry. I never would have thought of that."

Kerry laughed with him, then explained the arrangement she had made for Robin for the night. "I'm working late right here. When I start home I'll let the Hohokus cops know I'm on the way. It's all set."

"Now be sure you do." His voice became firm. "The more I've thought about you going into Smith's house alone last night, the more I realize what a lousy idea it was. You could have been there when he was shot, just the way Mark Young was gunned down with Haskell."

Geoff signed off after promising to call and report to Kerry after he had seen Arnott.

It was eight o'clock before Kerry had finished the work she needed to do in preparing for an upcoming case. Then once again she reached for the voluminous Reardon file.

She looked closely at the pictures of the death scene. In his letter, Dr. Smith had described entering the house that night and finding Suzanne's body. Kerry closed her eyes at the awful prospect of ever finding Robin like that. Smith said he had deliberately removed the "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" card because he was so sure Skip had murdered Suzanne in a fit of jealous rage, and he didn't want him to escape maximum punishment, to get off with a reduced sentence.

She believed what Smith had written--most people don't lie when they plan to kill themselves, she reasoned. And what Dr. Smith had written also supports Skip Reardon's story. So now, Kerry thought, the murderer is the man who visited that house between the time Skip left at around six-thirty, and when the doctor arrived at around nine o'clock.

Jason Arnott? Jimmy Weeks? Which one had killed Suzanne? she wondered.

At nine-thirty Kerry dosed the file. She hadn't come up with any new angles in her plan to question Arnott tomorrow. If I were in his boots, she thought, I'd claim that Suzanne gave me the picture frame that last day because she was afraid a couple of pearls were getting loose and wanted me to have it fixed. Then, when she was found dead, I didn't want to become involved in a murder investigation, so I kept the frame.

A story like that could easily hold up in court because it was entirely plausible. The jewelry, however, was a different story. It all came back to the jewelry. It she could prove that Arnott gave Suzanne those valuable antique pieces, there was no way he could get away with saying it was a gift of pure friendship.

At ten o'clock she left the now-quiet office and went into the parking lot. Realizing suddenly that she was starving, she drove to the Arena diner around the corner and had a hamburger, french fries and coffee.

Subst.i.tute a cola for the coffee, and you have Robin's favorite meal, she thought, sighing inwardly. I have to say I miss my baby.

The momma and the baby...

The momma and the baby...

Why did that singsong phrase keep echoing in her head? she wondered again. Something about it seemed wrong, so terribly wrong. But what was it?