Blowout

holds me and Sherlock.”
    “I’m trying to be philosophical about this,” Ben said. “A red Porsche classic 911. I’ll bet your son’s going to go nuts when he’s old enough to drive it.”
    Savich grinned. “Possibly so, but thankfully, I can’t imagine Sean doing anything right now but pulling spaghetti apart and wrapping it around his ears.”
    They found Bobby with three other Supreme Court law clerks in his apartment, part of a big complex near George Washington University, all eating pizza and drinking Heineken. The place wasn’t a mess, but it wasn’t all that large and there were four young bodies sprawled everywhere. There were nice pieces of furniture, and that surprised Savich.
    The law clerks jumped to their feet when Bobby brought the four of them into the living room. They were all mid-twenties, dressed casually, and from their expressions it looked like they’d been talking nonstop about Justice Califano’s murder. No surprise there. Bobby Fisher stood in the archway a moment, as if uncertain what he was supposed to do.
    Savich said, “I’m Agent Savich and this is Agent Sherlock. We’re FBI—this is Detective Ben Raven, Metro, and Callie Markham. Since all of you are here, it’ll save us time.”
    “But, sir, we’ve already talked—”
    “I don’t know anything, Agent, I work for Justice Gutierrez who loved Justice Califano, loved him—”
    “I’ve been in the bathroom all day with diarrhea.”
    Savich looked impartially at the group. They looked both scared and excited, and on the buzzed side. There were a good dozen beer cans on newspaper-littered surfaces. All those empty beer cans, well, that could work in his favor. Everyone was introduced, voices subdued. Savich said, “I know all of you have already spoken to the FBI, but we’re here to tell you something you might not know yet.”
    All four of them, three men and one woman, leaned forward, their eyes glued on Savich’s face.
    He said, “Danny O’Malley is dead. He was murdered.”
    Savich, knowing that Sherlock, Ben, and Callie were watching them as closely as he was, saw the punch of surprise, then as his words sank in, the shock that showed clearly on their faces. None of them seemed particularly distraught yet, probably because of the unexpected blow they were absorbing.
    “Okay,” Ben Raven said, “let’s all sit down and talk about this.”
    Tai Curtis, a law clerk for Justice Sumner Wallace, a tall, slender, good-looking young man, the one they’d been told disliked Eliza Vickers, looked like he’d been slapped. He streaked his fingers through his hair, standing it on end. “Oh, not Danny. That just can’t be right, he’s—oh shit, man. You aren’t kidding us? Hey, you want one of us to confess?”
    “Actually,” Savich said, “spontaneous confessions don’t happen all that often.”
    It was Bobby Fisher who asked, “Why would someone kill Danny, Detective Raven?”
    Ben said, “Danny was murdered because he was somehow involved in this. Maybe he tried to blackmail the killer or the person who hired the killer. We’re thinking Danny might have known something that he unfortunately didn’t pass along to us. He was killed not twenty-four hours after Justice Califano.”
    There was more on the four faces now—fear, stark fear. Ben couldn’t blame them. One of their own was dead, suddenly, violently. He said, looking at each face in turn, “He paid the ultimate price for a stupid decision.” His voice sounded hard as nails, Callie thought. “We hope that none of you would now consider hiding anything from us, for your own personal gain, or for any other reason. If you know something, tell us now, for your own safety. I don’t want to see any more dead bodies. If you’ve never seen a murdered body, come with me to the morgue and I’ll let you see firsthand what could happen to you.”
    The three men looked ready to be sick.
    Sonya McGivens, another law clerk to Justice Sumner Wallace, grabbed a slice of cold pizza out of a delivery box from Pizza Heaven and began chewing on it. A long string of cheese fell over her chin but she didn’t seem to notice.
    Savich noted that she was a knockout—a tall blond with classic features—and a bare midriff down to well below her navel. She was wearing bad-girl pants that barely covered her pelvic bones, and a lacy white top. Savich wondered if one of the reasons Justice Wallace had hired her was because of her looks. He also wondered if the