"I'll do that ONLY if you make sure nobody else gets past my door until after lunch. This Redfield girl is really scared and we're supposed to help her. So far the only impression she's gotten is that we're the reincarnation of the Keystone Kops."
Pat made some reply Mandy couldn't catch as she left and then Kelly headed back to his office. Mandy scooted back to her chair as his footsteps approached.
Mandy thought briefly about what she'd heard. She had assumed that she was appearing calm and controlled. It was a shock to realize that her fear was so obvious to Kelly. It also didn't make her happy to know that she was considered a special case getting special treatment. She wanted help, the kind of help any citizen with her problem would receive, not the deference accorded a spoiled brat whose father demanded white glove service for his precious little girl.
What must Kelly think of her?
"It's amazing that we get anything done around here, isn't it?" Kelly said casually to Mandy, resuming his seat. "No wonder the crime stats are up in Metro."
"I know you're busy," Mandy mumbled inanely as he watched him tap the computer keys again.
"Let's try this once more," he said. He scanned the computer screen quickly and said, "You're an Assistant District Attorney and you've been getting threatening letters."
"Notes," Mandy said. "One liners."
"I see some samples here, " Kelly said thoughtfully, looking at his screen again. “The forensics guys are testing the actual notes for evidence."
"‘I'm coming for you,’" he read aloud. “And ‘You'll be sorry you put me away.’ Also, let's see, ‘You'll never know I'm even near you until I get you.’"
Mandy shivered. "Right," she said quietly.
Kelly shook his head disgustedly. "This guy's a poet. And you're pretty sure it's connected to your job?"
"Yes. I think so. 'Put me away' sounds like someone who blames me for his incarceration."
"You've been getting them only at work, never at home?"
"Never at home."
Kelly shrugged. "Don't assume that means he doesn't actually know where you live."
Mandy felt a chill. "I feel like someone is watching me all the time," she said flatly.
"You've been an ADA for three years? You must have been involved in the conviction of quite a few people during that period."
Mandy nodded.
"Yet this bozo is singling you out from the whole group."
"I guess. In any case we handle there are several lawyers working on the prosecution, depending on how big a deal it is. Why would he pick on me? I do backup research, I’m always the least visible lawyer on the team.”
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t see you. And remember you.”
Amanda sighed, then said, “And you refer to him as 'he'. How do we know this person is a man?"
"We know from profiling that women don't generally do this sort of thing. It happens, but it's quite rare. And I see here that out of all the convictions you've been credited with only two of the defendants were women. So the odds are overwhelming that the perp is male."
"And why is he picking on me?"
"Because you're a lot prettier than Sam Rhinegold?" Kelly suggested.
"Come on," Mandy said dismissively, shaking her head.
"I'm serious. The losers who do this sort of thing have major problems with all aspects of life, not just the crime you are prosecuting them for at the moment. He thinks you have power over him because of your job and he resents a woman being in that position. He thinks women should be subservient and it drove him mad to have you making him answer for his behavior. He has a crush on you because he saw you in court during his trial and thinks he has an actual relationship with you.”
“He saw me maybe a few times, if even that. In any case we prosecute I’m either invisible to the defendant or my role is very low profile. That’s why I don’t understand this whole thing.”
“Don’t expect it to make sense,” Kelly said, echoing Manning. “Who knows what’s going through this guy’s head? Somebody who does this is crazy right out of the gate, we just have to assume that and work from there. "
"You make him sound delightful," Mandy said wearily.
Kelly leaned back in his chair and surveyed her. "He ain't Mahatma Gandhi, that's for sure."
Mandy couldn't conceal her concern. Kelly got up from his chair and came around to lean against his desk a few feet away from her. He bent forward in a pose that she would learn was characteristic of him, closed fists on hips, expression alert and watchful.
"Don't worry, we'll get him. We can lock him up for threats and intimidation and any number of other things, keep him in the can until your buddies in the D.A.'s office put him away again."
"You have to find him first," she said worriedly.
"We'll find him. I think this guy just got out of jail and that's why the notes started up suddenly and have continued. He was in the clink before that so we're doing a cross reference for anybody you prosecuted who was released recently. That’s where we’ll begin, anyway. If that doesn’t yield results we’ll widen the search until we locate him.”
"And then?"
"And then when we watch him until he makes a mistake."
"I know you can't just arrest him. He has rights. How do you know he'll make a mistake?"
"Somebody dumb enough to do this is usually easy to catch. The smart criminals are all out committing crimes successfully. Jails are full of stupid people and this guy seems like a real brain surgeon. There’s the occasional off kilter sharp article who’s just so flaked out he doesn’t care if he gets caught as long as does the damage, but that’s unusual. We’ll get him.”
"What happens to me in the meantime?"
"I watch you," he said evenly, his light eyes unreadable. "And we put tails on the likely candidates once we get the warrants."
"What do you mean?"
"I make sure you get to and from work all right, since your job seems to be the focus of his delusions.”
“I don’t go to the office that often. I do a lot of research at home.”
He nodded. “A blind squad car with officers in plain clothes will shadow you every day. You check in with me about where you're going and what you're doing."
"You'll be around all the time?" she asked anxiously.
"Another officer will fill in for me when I'm off," he said evenly. "And we'll provide protection when you need it."
"We?" she said doubtfully. "When I need it?"
"My boss, Lt. Manning, makes those decisions," he said.
Mandy thought about that in silence. To appease her father Ted Manning would probably tie her to a tree and then guard the tree. Continuously.
Kelly was watching her expression closely. "This guy is a bully and all bullies are cowards. He just wants to frighten you."
"I'm frightened," Mandy said.
"Don't be. We'll get him."
Mandy felt absurdly comforted. She didn't know Kelly at all but the confidence he exuded was catching. She could see why Manning had selected him for the assignment.
"I think you've given me enough to go on for today," Kelly said. "I'll get together a list of the convictions you've been involved in and we'll be able to work from there to narrow down the possibilities."
"Do you think it could be somebody else?"
"It could be, but we have to start somewhere and it's best to begin with the most likely prospects first. Can you come back here tomorrow to go over the list with me?"
"Tomorrow?" Mandy said, thinking about the case she was supposed to provide backup for the next day in court.
"Is that a problem?"
Mandy shook her head. "I'll get somebody to cover for me. When should I be here?"
"9 AM if that's okay. Manning is making your case a priority, so that's my directive too."
"Will you be able to have the list ready that fast?"
"I'll make sure I do."
Kelly straightened and reached out to shake her hand aga
in.
"You're going to be okay," he said. "I promise. We'll get this guy."
Mandy nodded, releasing his hard fingers.
"I'll walk you out," he said.
Mandy held up her hand. "That's fine. I've taken up enough of your time. I can find my way through the labyrinth."
"You're sure? People have vanished down here never to be heard from again."
She smiled. "I'll see you in the morning, Detective Kelly."
"Just Kelly," he said, watching her walk away.
"Kelly," she repeated, wondering what the "B" on his handmade office sign represented.
Kelly waited for her to leave and then started tapping the laptop keys, getting started on his list of suspects.
* * * * *
Mandy went back to her cubbyhole in the District Attorney’s office and tried to concentrate on the material she was reading, but thoughts of her visit with the police kept intruding as she made notes and formulated arguments for the case she was supporting. By the time Karen Warren stuck her head into Mandy’s cubicle and announced, “Lunchtime,” Mandy had accomplished very little and had worried quite a bit.
“So?” Karen said. “How did it go with the cops?”
Mandy shrugged as she shut down her laptop and rose to go, picking up her purse. “I don’t know. Lieutenant Manning was very nice, but he would be polite to me for my father’s sake even if he thought I was hallucinating the whole problem.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t think that,” Karen said. “You’ve turned over the notes to the police, they’re real. You haven’t been sending them to yourself.”
“Who can guess what they think? They all have this veneer of surface courtesy but you can tell their minds are whirring away behind their eyes, sorting and filing.”
Mandy followed Karen into the hall and then through the large marble floored lobby of the District Attorney’s office building. They paused at the revolving door at the entrance and then slipped through it. The two women trotted down the steps and traversed the intersection outside to reach Salon Verde, a lunch spot which serviced office workers across the street.
“You’ve had enough experience with cops to know that is standard procedure,” Karen said, as they got in line for the salad bar behind a stream of management assistants and state workers, attorneys and paralegals. Karen surveyed the offerings on the buffet and made a face.
“I don’t know why we come here. The lettuce is wilted and the tomatoes look anemic. They’re sunset orange.”
Mandy didn’t reply. Karen was one step away from anorexia, she barely ate and complained bitterly about the quality of the meager supply of nourishment that she permitted herself. She had always been that way and hadn’t died yet, and Mandy had known her forever, so it seemed unlikely she would drop now. They shuffled along as Mandy asked, “So how are things in the ER?”
Karen shrugged. “The usual.” Karen was an emergency medicine resident at Mercy Hospital. Her frustrating patient load of overdosing addicts, gasping asthmatics and expiring senior citizens had made her even more cynical than she had been in school. She was always maintaining that she would leave the hospital and open up a spa dedicated to emptying the wallets of the idle rich.
It hadn’t happened yet.
“So who did they assign to your case?” Karen asked. She knew many of the policemen who worked at Metro from her job. She met them when they interviewed and arrested some of the less than law abiding members of her ER clientele. She had an opinion on all of the cops, often not a favorable one.
“Somebody new,” Mandy replied. “A sub for a senior officer who got injured, apparently. My guy used to be in this district, then was transferred out a couple of years ago. They brought him back when he was promoted. A detective named Kelly.”
“They’re all named Kelly,” Karen said darkly. “Or Riley or Dunphy or Murphy. I don’t recall a Kelly.”
Mandy grinned. “Oh, you’d remember this guy. He’s very tasty.”
Karen’s antenna rose visibly as she selected a piece of rye bread from the wheel displayed on the counter and then dropped it onto her plate. She turned to look at Mandy. “Tasty?” she said. “Young?”
Mandy nodded. “Tall, black wavy hair. Spooky pretty eyes, very light and changeable, long lashes. Great smile, white teeth but slightly crooked, no orthodontia. Late twenties, maybe thirty.”
“Hmm. Sounds like you got a real good look there, Nancy Drew. You do realize he’s probably married with four kids at home in Mayfair. The important question is, does he know what he’s doing?”
“He seems to. I don’t think Manning would have assigned him to me if he were a slacker.”
Karen completed her rejection of the salad bar’s contents and turned to pull out a chair at a table behind them. “Of course not. Must take care of Jonathan Redfield’s little princess. Does this tasty cop know who you are? Does he know that your father is spearheading that marina project when he’s not printing money in the Redfield cellar?”
“I’m sure Manning gave him the specifics. Kelly was very deferential, you know, careful.” Mandy sighed. “I hope he’s good at his job because these little missives are making me very jumpy.” She sat across from Karen and contemplated a shrunken carrot stick. Karen was right. They really needed to find another lunch place. Convenience wasn’t everything.
“Don’t let Tom get a glimpse of this detective,” Karen said warningly. “Not if your fiancé is the jealous type.”
“I hope this won’t last long enough for them to meet,” Mandy said fervently.
“Amen,” Karen concluded, and speared a bloodless tomato with her fork.
* * * * *
Amanda finished her day at work and then met her father for a drink at 5:30 at the Rittenhouse Square Athletic Club. She had chosen to meet him there in order to avoid her mother, who was losing her grip over the stalking situation. Amanda was telling her very little and communicating with her father, which was the posture Mandy usually adopted when her mother was unable to handle something.
Amanda and her father were very close as a result.
Jonathan Redfield was waiting for her at the bar and stood when she arrived. He was white haired and dapper, but today was looking rather worn. His concern for Amanda’s situation was weighing on him.
“So what do you think of this detective?” her father asked, sitting again and sipping his scotch. “Ted Manning says he’s young, but very good at his job. The details I gave you all came from Manning, who is very high on him. What’s his name? Keely?”
“Kelly.”
“That’s right, Kelly. Do you like the approach he’s taking?”
“I don’t know what to think. He seems to be following standard procedure. He appears confident they’ll catch this guy and I hope he’s right.”
“What’s he like personally?”
Amanda shrugged. “Very polite. Very correct with me, because he’s worried about what I might say to Ted Manning. It’s hard to tell because I haven’t been in this situation before and they’re all tiptoeing around me at the police station, afraid to make a mistake because Big Lieutenant is watching them.”
“And this detective? Is he intimidated also?”
“He’s very…direct. Confident, but not arrogant. A no bullshit kind of guy. I think you’d like him.”
“Why?”
“His attitude was definitely cautious, but he was also frank and specific about what he wanted to do. He told me that he understood the problem and he told me how he was going to handle it. That was kind of refreshing after several weeks of listening to Mom having hysterics about it.”
“Your mother loves you, Amanda,” her father said wearily. “Any parent would be worried. I’m certainly worried too.”
A waiter arrived to take Amanda’s order and she waved him away.
“I just hope that Ted is right and this new detective is competent,” Jonathan said.
“Manning thinks he is. You respect the police and the military a
nd Kelly is both. You can see where protecting and serving would be right up his alley.” She stopped and smiled suddenly. “Listen to me. I don’t even know this guy. But I’ve got a good feeling about him.” Her smiled widened to a grin. “He looks like a recruiting poster for the FOP.”
Jonathan sighed. “Let’s hope he’s as good as he looks.”
Amanda stood. “I have to go, Dad, I’m sorry to make this so short. Tom is waiting for me at my place. I just wanted to touch base with you.”
Her father nodded. “Okay, sweetie. Stay connected and keep me informed. And be careful.”
“I will.”
Jonathan signaled the waiter for another drink as Amanda slipped past the bar and left.
* * * * *
Amanda drove home to her condominium in suburban Philadelphia, thirty minutes from Center City. Her condo was conveniently located in a safe suburb and nicely appointed. It had been decorated by her mother when Amanda didn’t have the time to do it. Her twenty-fifth birthday had arrived when she was studying for the bar and home décor had taken a back seat to passing the test. Amanda should have told Margaret Redfield that she’d get to it when she was free, but it was convenient to let her mother play with fabric samples and wood grains while Mandy boned up on Civil Procedure and the Rule against Perpetuities. It kept her mother amused and by the time Mandy was admitted to the bar her mother had outfitted the condominium with the latest of everything. It was lovely, but since Amanda had no personal investment in it she always felt like she was staying in a hotel. A five star luxury resort, to be sure, but still an anonymous velvet jewel box.
Amanda's Blue Marine Page 2
