The staked Goat

handled two more bail disputes and a short probable-cause hearing before the luncheon recess. Everyone stood as Judge Elam left the bench. As she reached my row, I fell in beside her.
    ”My name’s John Cuddy,” I said, ”and I’d like to buy you lunch.”
    She looked up at me, then down at her watch. ”Nancy Meagher. I’ve got twenty-five minutes and I brought a sandwich.”
    ”Can I have half? Or both?”
    We stopped and she smiled. ”You’re the PI who shot D’Amico, right?”
    ”That’s right.”
    ”Shame about your second bullet.”
    ”You’ve been reading about me.”
    ”Yes. And wondering how much pressure you had to apply to pal Joey to get him to admit Weeks hired him.”
    ”It was within constitutionally permissible limits.” She glanced down at her wrist. ”I now have twenty-four minutes but still a whole sandwich. Halfsies still O.K.?”
    ”You bet,” I said.
    We sat in her shared cubicle. Her officemate was out.
    ”Don’t superior court prosecutors usually cover bail hearings in heavy cases?” I asked.
    ”Usually,” she replied, neatly tamping a bit of errant tuna into a gap in the corner of her mouth. ”But I’ve been here nine months, and I’m good.” She smiled without showing her teeth. An open, Irish maiden face, with widely set, soft blue eyes and a straight slim nose. A smattering of freckles that would ; reach epidemic proportions with summer’s sun. As a girl, she must have been cute. As a woman, she was damned attractive. I felt a little glow.
    ”Good tuna,” I said.
    She wiped her mouth with a patterned paper napkin from home and pitched it into a wastebasket.
    ”What’s on your mind, Mr. Cuddy?”
    I had no napkin so I used my handkerchief. ”D’Amico. More precisely, brother Marco. Syndicate?” —
    She shook her head. ”Peripherally, at most. He’s a numb-nuts, maybe some high school friends who are approaching ‘management level,’ but no established contacts. Why?”
    ”A couple helped me out indirectly in busting Joey.
    I don’t want Marco to pick up their scent to square things, and I wanted to know his likely troop strength.”
    ”What makes you think Marco would do something?”
    I reviewed his general appearance and repeated his comment to me in the courtroom.
    ”Hmmm. I’d say the Coopers could be in trouble.”
    I lurched forward in my seat. ”I never gave their name to the investigating officer. How did you know it?”
    She rummaged through a file and handed me a police report. ”Seems the Coopers gave their name to the fire department when they called in the flames, and the fire captain mentioned it to the cop who arrived on the scene.”
    I read Jesse and Emily’s name, address, and telephone number from the last paragraph of the report. ”Damn,” I said. ”I assume the D’Amico lawyer has a copy of this?”
    ”Got one the first night at the arresting station, as soon as he identified himself as Joey’s attorney. Per office procedure.”
    ”Maybe I should have a talk with Marco,” I said.
    She cleared her throat. ”Let me be official, Mr. Cuddy. You go shaking down Marco, and it will weaken you as a witness for the prosecution. I don’t want Joey’s case riding on old Weeks’ ‘I hired him’ testimony.”
    ”And unofficially?” I asked.
    She smiled, using her teeth this time. Nice, even teeth. ”Unofficially, mightn’t you be giving Marco ideas he hasn’t stumbled on himself yet, since he seems to view you as enemy number one-and-only right now?”
    I considered it. ”I’m not sine you’re right, Ms. Meagher. But yours is the better percentage right now.” I stood up. ”Thanks for lunch.”
    She stayed seated. ”You’re from Southie originally, right?”
    South Boston is an old Irish/Italian neighborhood of brick and wood three-deckers just past the South Station train terminus. Beth and I both grew up there.
    ”That’s right,” I said.
    ”Me, too,” she replied. ”In fact, I still live there. On Fourth Street, number 746.” She smiled. ”Third floor.”
    I cleared my throat. ”I still don’t deal with this gracefully,” I said, ”but I was married a long time and then widowed. I’m still not... well... ready.
    Nancy blinked a few times and stood up. ”I think that’s the most graceful ‘Thanks anyway’ I’ve ever heard.” She gave my right arm a quick squeeze. ”But keep me in mind, O.K.?”
    ”O.K.” I squeezed back and left.
     

Three
     
     
     
    A S I SAT OUTSIDE TRIAL