Silken Prey

name was James Meers, said Quintana needed to talk with Marion and probably with Davenport, as soon as possible. Immediately, if possible.
    Lucas took the call from Marion, who said, “We got a break.”
    He’d set up the meeting for four o’clock.
    •   •   •
    L UCAS PARKED HIS P ORSCHE in one of the cop-only slots next to city hall and threw his BCA card on the dash, which usually managed to piss somebody off; but they’d never towed him. The attorney’s office, where the meeting would be held, was a block or so away, in the Pillsbury building. As he walked along, he spotted Marion, whistled, and Marion turned, saw him, and waited.
    “I thought somebody liked my ass,” Marion said.
    “Probably not,” Lucas said. “You know what Quintana’s going to say?”
    “Well, since it’s you and me . . . I suspect it might have something to do with the porn. We’ve been looking at possibilities, and his name’s on the list. He had access to the relevant computers both in Vice and Domestics.”
    “Ah, boy. I’ve known him for a long time,” Lucas said. “Not a bad cop—give or take a little.”
    “You know something about the take?” Marion asked.
    “No, no. If he’s taken anything, he’s smart enough that nobody would know,” Lucas said. “That’s what’s odd about this deal—why in God’s name would he give a porn file to anyone? Especially when it was going to be used like this? You know, a public hurricane. That doesn’t sound like the Ray Quintana we know and love. He’s always been a pretty cautious guy.”
    “Mmm. Got a pretty clean jacket, too,” Marion said. He looked up at the Pillsbury building. “I guess we’ll find out.”
    •   •   •
    Q UINTANA AND M EERS were waiting, Quintana was in a sweat, and showing it. Meers was a soft-faced blond with gold-rimmed glasses in his mid-thirties, who looked like a British movie star, but Lucas couldn’t think which one. A guy who’d been in a tennis movie. When Lucas and Marion were seated, he said, “Ray’s got a problem. I don’t think it has to go any further than this . . . it’s not criminal, or anything, but he sorta screwed up.”
    Marion looked skeptical, lifted his hands, and looked at Quintana. “So what is it?”
    Before Quintana could say anything, Meers added: “He also has some valuable information for you, he thinks. The fact is, he didn’t have to do this—he’s doing it voluntarily, this meeting, and he’s not even going to try to deal on the information. He’s just going to give it to you, because he’s a good cop. I hope you keep that in mind.”
    Marion looked at his watch: “Are we done with the introductions?”
    Lucas was the good guy: he looked at Quintana and asked, “How you doin’, Ray?”
    “Ah, man, I messed up,” Quintana said.
    “What happened?”
    Quintana leaned forward in his chair, his hands clenched in his lap, and spoke mostly to Lucas. “About two weeks ago, Bob Tubbs came to see me. I knew him all the way back in high school, and we’d bump into each other from time to time. We weren’t friends, but you know, we were friendly. So, he comes to see me in the office. He sits down and says he’s got a big problem.”
    Quintana told it this way:
    Tubbs said, “You guys have an extensive file of kiddie porn somewhere in your computers. Here in Vice, and down in Domestics. I don’t care about that, but there’s one picture in there that I need to see. I need to see it off the record.”
    Quintana: “What’s this all about?”
    Tubbs: “A very large person in the state legislature is banging a girl on the side. Young, but not too young. But now it turns out that she might have been involved in some kind of porn ring and probably prostitution, and was busted by you guys. I need to look at her picture. I can’t get at it through regular sources, because she was underage when she was busted, and the file is sealed.”
    Quintana: “Why do you need to look at it?”
    Tubbs: “Because this guy is in a pretty tender spot. He’s in the process of getting a divorce. His wife’s lawyer is a wolverine, and if she gets a sniff of this chick—and maybe she already did—they’re going to make an issue of it. Then, it’s all gonna come out. He needs to know if this girl’s the one involved in porn and prostitution and all that. I’ve seen his girlfriend. Now I need to look at the file.”
    Quintana: “Even if she was, what would he do about it?”
    Tubbs: