Chapter 4 - THE PROSECUTOR'S SECOND CASE
Detective Brooks drew her weapon.
“Stay here.”
Mrs. Gable grabbed Lily.
“No chance.”
Another crash came from downstairs.
Then footsteps.
Fast.
Brooks moved into the hallway.
Two uniformed officers shouted.
A man ran through the back corridor.
He smashed through a service door and disappeared into the garden before police could reach him.
He left behind one thing.
A black leather glove.
Nothing else.
But the message was clear.
Someone knew about the hidden room.
Someone knew about the blue book.
And someone had reached the house within minutes of Mrs. Gable finding it.
Brooks secured the ledger personally.
Not through the prosecutor’s office.
Not through local evidence intake.
She called the state attorney general.
Then federal investigators.
Within three hours, Daniel Reeves was removed from the Sterling case.
He was furious.
“You cannot disqualify me based on initials in a dead man’s notebook.”
Brooks stood across from him in a conference room.
“No one said D.R. was you.”
Reeves stopped.
Mrs. Gable saw it.
A mistake.
Small.
But obvious.
He had reacted before Brooks identified him.
“Daniel,” Brooks said quietly. “Why did Arthur Sterling write your name on his investigation wall?”
Reeves smiled.
“He hated anyone who challenged him.”
“Did you attend a Voss fundraiser?”
“I attend political events.”
“Did you receive money from Charles Merrick?”
“No.”
“Did you suppress toxicology evidence in Arthur’s death?”
That destroyed the smile.
Mrs. Gable leaned forward.
“What evidence?”
Brooks looked at her.
Arthur’s original toxicology test had shown traces of two substances.
One was the prescription medication prosecutors blamed on Mrs. Gable.
The second was a rare cardiac compound.
That result vanished from the final report.
Mrs. Gable stared at Reeves.
“You knew?”
“I did not alter evidence.”
“But your office had it.”
“My office handles thousands of documents.”
Brooks placed a copy of the original report on the table.
“The lab sent this directly to you.”
Reeves looked at it.
Then at Mrs. Gable.
“I believed the second substance was contamination.”
“Without testing?”
“It was a judgment call.”
Mrs. Gable stood.
“You almost sent me to prison.”
Reeves did not look at her.
“You had motive and access.”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“You needed me to have motive and access.”
The room went silent.
Lily was not there.
Mrs. Gable had insisted she stay with a court-appointed child advocate.
For the first time, Mrs. Gable allowed herself to say what she had been too frightened to think.
Reeves had built the case against her because somebody needed an easy killer.
A nanny.
A household employee.
A woman without political power.
A woman whose fingerprints were supposed to be on the glass because she served Arthur dinner.
Perfect.
Brooks asked:
“Where were you the night Arthur died?”
Reeves laughed.
“Home.”
“Anyone confirm that?”
“My wife.”
“Your wife was in Chicago.”
His face changed.
Brooks slid another paper forward.
“Airport records.”
Reeves stared.
Mrs. Gable felt sick.
“You were alone.”
“So?”
“So your phone was turned off from 9:14 p.m. until 1:03 a.m.”
“I sleep.”
“Your office badge was used at the Sterling courthouse records annex at 11:41.”
“That is not me.”
“Then who had your badge?”
Reeves said nothing.
Brooks leaned closer.
“Daniel, this is where you decide whether you are part of the conspiracy or another person they used.”
That sentence did something.
Reeves’s shoulders lowered.
Just slightly.
Then he whispered:
“You have no idea what Voss controls.”
Brooks stopped writing.
“Tell me.”
Reeves looked toward the glass wall.
“Not here.”
Mrs. Gable’s stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because Arthur was right.”
“About what?”
“Somebody inside the courthouse is helping them.”
Brooks immediately ordered the room swept.
Reeves continued.
“I took money.”
Mrs. Gable closed her eyes.
“From Voss?”
“No.”
“From Merrick?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand.”
The blue book.
D.R.
“What for?”
Reeves swallowed.
“To delay a financial subpoena.”
Brooks’s face hardened.
“You obstructed an investigation.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Arthur would die?”
“No.”
“Did you frame Mrs. Gable?”
“No.”
Mrs. Gable slammed her hand against the table.
“You hid evidence!”
“I was told the toxicology result would complicate a case that was already strong.”
“By whom?”
Reeves stared at her.
Then said:
“My supervisor.”
Brooks’s expression changed.
“District Attorney Kellerman?”
Reeves nodded.
Mrs. Gable remembered him.
Thomas Kellerman.
He had sat behind the prosecution table on the first day of trial.
He had shaken Clara’s hand.
He had told reporters the Sterling family deserved justice.
Brooks reached for her phone.
Reeves grabbed her wrist.
“No.”
She stared at him.
“He’s not the top.”
“Then who is?”
Reeves whispered:
“Kellerman answers to Voss.”
Mrs. Gable felt relief.
At least there was a shape now.
Voss.
Kellerman.
Merrick.
Clara.
But Reeves shook his head.
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Voss isn’t protecting himself.”
Brooks leaned forward.
“Then who?”
Reeves looked directly at Mrs. Gable.
“The person Arthur was really investigating.”
Before he could say the name, the conference room lights flickered.
A gunshot cracked from the hallway.
Glass exploded.
Reeves jerked backward.
Blood spread across his shirt.
Mrs. Gable screamed.
Brooks tackled her beneath the table.
Another shot.
Then silence.
When Brooks lifted her head, Daniel Reeves was still breathing.
Barely.
He grabbed Mrs. Gable’s sleeve.
“Lily.”
“What about Lily?”
His eyes were wild.
“Get her out.”
“Who is Arthur investigating?”
Reeves coughed blood.
Then whispered a name Mrs. Gable had never heard before.
“Sterling.”
She stared.
“What?”
His hand went limp.
Mrs. Gable looked at Brooks.
“Arthur Sterling?”
May you like
Brooks shook her head slowly.
“I don’t think he meant Arthur.”
