“Actually, I’ve been thinking about a Porsche.”
Savich was on his feet in an instant, facing a very handsome middle-aged man who was standing in the doorway. He had a fine head of silver hair, Sherlock’s soft green eyes, beautiful wide luminous eyes, and was taller than he was and as lean as a runner. He was looking at his wife, and the look reflected both irritation and amusement, in about equal amounts. “I’m Judge Sherlock. Hello, Lacey.” She was on her feet as well, walking slowly to her father. She held out her hands to him. “Hello, Dad. We just got here. Do you mind if we stay with you for a while?”
“Not at all. We’ve plenty of room. It will be nice to have different voices to listen to. My dear,” he continued to his wife as he walked to the beautiful woman who was just sitting there staring at him, 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.”