The Maze

her eyes large and intent. "How was your day?"

    "I want to know if she's sleeping with him, Corman, but she wouldn't tell me. He's too good-looking and you know how I feel about that. Why, just look at what Douglas did, just because he's a man and doesn't have any sense. He married that tramp and Belinda just barely in her grave."

    "Belinda's been dead for seven years, Evelyn. It was time for Douglas to marry again." He shot Savich a quick look from the corner of his eye with that question, a look that said, Look, isn't she a fool? Savich drew back.

    "That's a good point," Evelyn Sherlock said, her beautiful expressionless face turned away from her husband. "But they shouldn't be married. Can't you get Douglas to divorce her, Corman?''

    "No, I don't do that sort of thing, you know that. Or don't you remember?"

    "When I remember something I never forget it. That's what I was telling Lacey and Mr. Savich before you came in. Will you buy a Porsche so I'll be safe?"

    "Perhaps I will, Evelyn, perhaps I will. Mr. Savich spoke about a classic 911. I like that car. Lacey, may I have a cup of tea, please? Mr. Savich, I'm delighted to finally meet you. I understand you're my daughter's boss at the FBI."

    "Yes, sir. I head up the new Criminal Apprehension Unit." "I think your approach is a fine idea. Why not use technology to predict what psychopaths will do? Why are you here with her in San Francisco?"

    "We're working on the Marlin Jones case."

    "Why here? Marlin Jones is in Boston." "That's true, but there are loose ends. We're here to check things out."

    "I see." Judge Corman Sherlock sat down in the beautiful rosewood chair behind his rosewood desk. The desk was piled with books and magazines. There were at least a dozen pens scattered haphazardly over the surface. A telephone and a fax machine were on top of a rosewood filing cabinet beside the desk. It was a working place for him, Dillon realized. Not just pleasure in here. The man spent hours here working.

    "I heard on the news that Marlin Jones hit his own lawyer, knocked him out. It was all over the news, everyone in the courthouse was talking about it. You were there, weren't you, Lacey?"

    She nodded. "Yes, we both were. I believe everyone was cheering because there would be one less lawyer-" She broke off and smiled at her father. "Forgive me, but I never think of you as a lawyer since you're a judge and a former prosecutor. You put criminals away, not defend them."

    "True enough. Big John Bullock has quite a reputation. Your Marlin just might escape any punishment at all when he goes to trial. Big John is magic with juries. If this Marlin character doesn't already have a pitiful, tragic childhood, then Big John will manufacture one for him and the jury might just believe everything he says."

    "People aren't stupid, Dad. They can look at Marlin Jones and see that he's a psychopath. He's crazy but he's not insane. He knows exactly what he's doing and he has no remorse, no conscience. He's admitted to all the killings. Besides, even if he's acquitted in Boston, he'll be sent here to be tried. He also admitted that he'd murdered two women in Denver. He'll go down. In one of those places, he has to go down."

    "Ah, Lacey, people can be swayed, they can be manipulated, they can see gray when there's nothing really but black. I've seen it happen again and again. Juries will see what they want to see-if they want to free a defendant, no matter what the evidence, they'll do it-it's that simple, and many times that tragic.

    "I hope Marlin Jones does come to California to stand trial. At least here we've got the death penalty."

    "If he got the death penalty, I think the electric chair would | be too easy and quick. I think all the families of the women he killed should be able to kill him, over and over."

    "That's very unliberal of you, Lacey."

    "Why? It's only right. It's justice."

    "It's vengeance."

    "Yes, it is. What's wrong with that?"

    "Not a thing. Now, my dear child, Mr. Savich probably wonders if you and I go on and on like this. Let's take a short | time out. Tell me about these loose ends you and Mr. Savich are here to tie up."

    Evelyn Sherlock smiled, but again, it seemed to Savich that her face still remained without expression. It was as if she'd trained herself not to move any muscles in her face that would ruin the perfect mask. She said, "They probably think that you murdered Belinda, Corman, isn't that right, Mr. Savich?"

    Now that was a