When she drove past the columned facade of her old place of work, a great wave of relief swept over her. It was so sudden that it left her breathless. Then, bit by bit, she was okay. She accelerated down Independence Avenue and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
* * *
Fiske hurried down to Knight’s chambers and, surprisingly, was allowed in. Knight sat behind her desk. Ramsey was still there, slumped in a chair. He quickly rose when Fiske entered.
Fiske plunged in. “I want you to know that anything Sara did or didn’t do was to protect my brother. All she’s trying to do now is help me find who killed him.”
“And you’re sure that question wouldn’t be answered by your simply looking in a mirror?” Ramsey said forcefully.
Fiske paled. “You’re way off the mark, sir.”
“Am I? The authorities don’t seem to think so. If you are a murderer, then I hope you spend the rest of your life in prison. As for your brother’s actions, they reside not far down the ladder from taking someone’s life, at least in my book.”
“My brother did what he thought was right.”
“I find that statement positively laughable.”
“Harold — ” Knight began, but he cut her off with a sweep of his hand.
“And I want you” — he pointed at Fiske — “to get out of this office and out of this building before I have you arrested for trespassing.”
Fiske looked at the two of them. The anger he was feeling right now was the culmination of the last three days of sheer hell. It was as though everything bad that had ever happened to him had been caused by Harold Ramsey. “I’ve seen the nice little sign over the front door of this place: ‘Equal Justice Under Law’? I find that laughable.”
Ramsey looked ready to attack Fiske. “How dare you!”
“I’ve got a client on death row right now. If I ever have the ‘honor’ of appearing before you, can you tell me you’ll actually care whether my guy lives or dies? Or will you just be using him and me to overturn a precedent that pissed you off ten years ago?”
“You insufferable — ”
“Can you tell me that?” Fiske shouted. “Because if you can’t, then I don’t know what you are, but you’re sure as hell not a judge.”
Ramsey was livid. “What do you know about anything? The system — ”
Fiske smacked his chest. “I’m the system. Me and the people I represent. Not you. Not this place.”
“Do you realize the magnitude of the issues we deal with here?”
“When’s the last time you sat and ‘judged’ a battered wife? Or a molested child? Have you ever watched a man die in the electric chair? Have you? You sit up here and you never even see a real person. You don’t hear from any live witnesses, you never hear from any of the people you’ll destroy or help by your actions. All you get is a bunch of high-powered lawyers throwing a bunch of paper at you. You have no idea of the faces, the people, the heartbreak and pain behind any of it. To you it’s some intellectual game. A game! Nothing more.” Fiske stared at the man. His voice shook as he said, “You think the big issues are so hard? Try dealing with the little ones.”
“I think you should leave,” Knight said, almost pleadingly. “Right now.”
Fiske stared at Ramsey for a few seconds longer and then, calming down, he looked at the woman. “You know, that’s good advice, Counselor, I think I’ll take it.” Fiske turned to the door.
“Mr. Fiske,” Ramsey boomed out. Fiske slowly turned back. “I have several good friends at the Virginia state bar. I think they should be apprised of the situation. I would think that appropriate action should be taken against you, perhaps resulting in suspension and subsequent disbarment.”
“Guilty until proved innocent? That’s your idea of how the criminal justice system should work?”
“It’s my strong opinion that it’s only a matter of time until you’re found guilty.”
Fiske started to say something else, but Knight, one hand on the phone, said, “John, I would much prefer if you left without the assistance of the guards.”