never achieved judicial proof in either country?”
“What I believe personally and what I believe wearing a judge’s robe are two very different things. You’ve already heard my personal take on Hector.”
Criminal .
“Tell me about your view of the relationship between Calderón and Hector,” Steele said. “What do you know and what do you suspect?”
“What relationship? There isn’t one. Carlos is a businessman and—” Abruptly she stopped.
For a moment she looked past Steele to the glass walls. Far off to the north, through a gap in the picket line of lighted high-rise buildings, was the place where the twin towers of the World Trade Center had once stood. Their absence was a monument to the way the world could change from one moment to the next.
Her world certainly had.
“Sorry,” she said finally. “That was an old reflex, very deep. If you deny the monster in the closet, it doesn’t exist, does it?”
Steele waited with the patience of a former diplomat.
“Everyone,” Grace said, “agrees on one thing about St. Kilda Consulting—what happens here stays here.”
Steele nodded.
Her mouth turned down. “In any case, I doubt my former client is in a position to object if I talk out of school. Ten years ago, before I was appointed to the federal bench, Ted talked me into doing some legal work for Carlos Calderón.”
You owe me, Gracie. Without me, you wouldn’t be considered for a federal appointment. I’m raising your bastard. If you don’t want Lane to know, you’ll climb off your high horse and do something for me for a change .
“Carlos wanted to sue two San Diego journalists for reporting therewere links between his business empire and drug traffickers like the Rivas-Osuna cartel,” she said quietly.
“Men like Calderón often fear a free press more than they do the police.”
Grace’s smile was more of a grimace. “As I investigated the matter, it became clear that the only basis for the news reports was a federal law enforcement intelligence report that had never been made public. In an effort to demonstrate that the source material was unverified and unproven, my law firm demanded to examine the report. We argued that the entire matter was an unfair effort to discredit a well-known Mexican businessman on the basis of innuendo. Racism of a sort. That was the card we played.”
“You weren’t the first. You won’t be the last.”
“That doesn’t make it easier to live with now.”
Denying the monster in the closet was a child’s game, one she’d been playing too long. Yet it was still her first and deepest reflex.
Up to now it had worked.
“Go on,” Steele said.
“The government claimed that the Calderón suit was nothing but a fishing expedition,” she said tiredly. “They argued that turning over the report would reveal the names of dozens of informants. As a defense lawyer, an advocate, I demolished that idea. We won. The report was turned over. Carlos said he was vindicated and there was no point in pursuing the suit.”
“The informants died,” Steele said, watching her.
Grace closed her eyes. She’d always been afraid that might have happened. Now she knew.
She swallowed bile, swallowed again.
“When I saw Carlos standing by while a notorious drug lord threatened my son’s life,” she said hoarsely, “I understood that I’d been played for the fool I was. The monster has always been in the closet and all my denial and shoving against the door won’t keep him from getting out.”
Steele was silent a moment. Then he looked down at his own legs, wasted to sticks, useless.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “you aren’t the only person in the room to have been fooled by someone like Carlos Calderón.”
Her hands clenched. “I’ve spent my life climbing out of places where criminals strut and cops tiptoe. I won’t be dragged back. I won’t let them have my son. Right is right and wrong is wrong and common citizens shouldn’t
“What I believe personally and what I believe wearing a judge’s robe are two very different things. You’ve already heard my personal take on Hector.”
Criminal .
“Tell me about your view of the relationship between Calderón and Hector,” Steele said. “What do you know and what do you suspect?”
“What relationship? There isn’t one. Carlos is a businessman and—” Abruptly she stopped.
For a moment she looked past Steele to the glass walls. Far off to the north, through a gap in the picket line of lighted high-rise buildings, was the place where the twin towers of the World Trade Center had once stood. Their absence was a monument to the way the world could change from one moment to the next.
Her world certainly had.
“Sorry,” she said finally. “That was an old reflex, very deep. If you deny the monster in the closet, it doesn’t exist, does it?”
Steele waited with the patience of a former diplomat.
“Everyone,” Grace said, “agrees on one thing about St. Kilda Consulting—what happens here stays here.”
Steele nodded.
Her mouth turned down. “In any case, I doubt my former client is in a position to object if I talk out of school. Ten years ago, before I was appointed to the federal bench, Ted talked me into doing some legal work for Carlos Calderón.”
You owe me, Gracie. Without me, you wouldn’t be considered for a federal appointment. I’m raising your bastard. If you don’t want Lane to know, you’ll climb off your high horse and do something for me for a change .
“Carlos wanted to sue two San Diego journalists for reporting therewere links between his business empire and drug traffickers like the Rivas-Osuna cartel,” she said quietly.
“Men like Calderón often fear a free press more than they do the police.”
Grace’s smile was more of a grimace. “As I investigated the matter, it became clear that the only basis for the news reports was a federal law enforcement intelligence report that had never been made public. In an effort to demonstrate that the source material was unverified and unproven, my law firm demanded to examine the report. We argued that the entire matter was an unfair effort to discredit a well-known Mexican businessman on the basis of innuendo. Racism of a sort. That was the card we played.”
“You weren’t the first. You won’t be the last.”
“That doesn’t make it easier to live with now.”
Denying the monster in the closet was a child’s game, one she’d been playing too long. Yet it was still her first and deepest reflex.
Up to now it had worked.
“Go on,” Steele said.
“The government claimed that the Calderón suit was nothing but a fishing expedition,” she said tiredly. “They argued that turning over the report would reveal the names of dozens of informants. As a defense lawyer, an advocate, I demolished that idea. We won. The report was turned over. Carlos said he was vindicated and there was no point in pursuing the suit.”
“The informants died,” Steele said, watching her.
Grace closed her eyes. She’d always been afraid that might have happened. Now she knew.
She swallowed bile, swallowed again.
“When I saw Carlos standing by while a notorious drug lord threatened my son’s life,” she said hoarsely, “I understood that I’d been played for the fool I was. The monster has always been in the closet and all my denial and shoving against the door won’t keep him from getting out.”
Steele was silent a moment. Then he looked down at his own legs, wasted to sticks, useless.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “you aren’t the only person in the room to have been fooled by someone like Carlos Calderón.”
Her hands clenched. “I’ve spent my life climbing out of places where criminals strut and cops tiptoe. I won’t be dragged back. I won’t let them have my son. Right is right and wrong is wrong and common citizens shouldn’t
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