“We can get you into the witness protection program,” Young was saying. “But only after you’ve served a minimum of five years.” “Too much,” Barney grunted.

“Look, you’ve been hinting you can tie Jimmy to a murder,” Young said as he examined a ragged edge on his thumbnail. “Barney, I’ve milked that as far as I can. You’ve got to either put up or shut up. They’d love to hang a murder on Weeks. That way they’ll never have to deal with him again. If he’s in for life, his organization probably would collapse. That’s what they’re gunning for.”

“I can tie him to one. Then they’ll have to prove he did it. Isn’t there talk that the U.S. attorney on this case is thinking about running for governor against Frank Green?”

“If each gets his party’s nomination,” Young commented as he reached in his desk drawer for a nail file. “Barney, I’m afraid you’ll have to stop talking in circles. You’d better trust me with whatever it is you’re hinting about. Otherwise I won’t be able to help you make an intelligent choice.”

A frown momentarily crossed Barney’s cherubic face. Then his forehead cleared and he said, “All right. I’ll tell you. Remember the Sweetheart Murder Case, the one involving that sexy young wife who was found dead with roses scattered all over her? It was ten years ago, but it was the case that Frank Green made his name on.”

Young nodded. “I remember. He got a conviction on the husband. Actually it wasn’t that hard, but the case got a lot of publicity and sold a lot of newspapers.” His eyes narrowed. “What about it? You’re not saying Weeks was connected to that case, are you?”

“You remember how the husband claimed he didn’t give his wife those roses, that they must have been sent by some man she was involved with?” At Young’s nod, Haskell continued, “Jimmy Weeks sent those roses to Suzanne Reardon. I should know. I delivered them to her house at twenty of six the night she died. There was a card with them that he wrote himself. I’ll show you what was on it. Give me a piece of paper.”

Young shoved the telephone message pad at him. Barney reached for his pen. A moment later he handed back the pad. “Jimmy called Suzanne ‘Sweetheart,’” he explained. “He had made a date with her for that night. He filled out the card like this.”

Young examined the paper Barney pushed back to him. It held six notes of music in the key of C, with five words written underneath: “I’m in love with you.” It was signed “J.”

Young hummed the notes, then looked at Jimmy. “The opening phrase of the song ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart,’ “he said.

“Uh-huh. Followed by the rest of the first line of the song, ‘I’m in love with you.’”

“Where is this card?”

“That’s the point. Nobody mentioned it being in the house when the body was found. And the roses were scattered over her body. I only delivered them, then I kept going. I was on my way to Pennsylvania for Jimmy. But afterwards I heard the others talking. Jimmy was crazy about that woman, and it drove him nuts that she was always playing up to other guys. When he sent her those flowers he had already given her an ultimatum that she had to get a divorce-and stay away from other men.”

“What was her reaction?”

“Oh, she liked to make him jealous. It seemed to make her feel good. I know one of our guys tried to warn her that Jimmy could be dangerous, but she just laughed. My guess is that that night she went too far. Throwing those roses over her body is just the kind of thing Jimmy would do.”

“And the card was missing?”

Barney shrugged. “You didn’t hear nothing about it at the trial. I was ordered to keep my mouth shut about her. I do know that she kept Jimmy waiting or stood him up that night. A couple of the guys told me he exploded and said he’d kill her. You know Jimmy’s temper. And there was one other thing. Jimmy had bought her some expensive jewelry. I know, because I paid for it and kept a copy of the receipts. There was a lot of talk about jewelry at the trial, stuff the husband claimed he hadn’t given her, but anything they found, the father swore he gave her.”

Young tore the sheet of paper Barney had used off the pad, folded it and put it in his breast pocket. “Barney, I think you’re going to be able to enjoy a wonderful new life in Ohio. You realize that you’ve not only delivered the U.S. attorney a chance to nail Jimmy for murder but also to annihilate Frank Green for prosecuting an innocent man.”

They smiled across the desk at each other. “Tell them I don’t want to live in Ohio,” Barney joked.

They left the office together and walked down the corridor to the bank of elevators. When one arrived and the doors started to part, Barney sensed immediately that something was wrong. There was no light on inside it. Gut instinct made him turn to run.

He was too late. He died immediately, moments before Mark Young felt the first bullet shred the lapel of his thousand-dollar suit.

Kerry heard about the double homicide on WCBS Radio as she was driving to work. The bodies were discovered by Mark Young’s private secretary. The report stated that Young and his client Barney Haskell had been scheduled to meet in the parking lot at 7:00 A.M., and it was surmised that Young had disengaged the alarm system when he opened the downstairs door of the small building. The security guard did not come on duty until eight o’clock.

The outside door was unlocked when the secretary arrived at 7:45, but she thought Young had simply forgotten to relock it, as she reported he often had in the past. Then she had taken the elevator upstairs and made the discovery.

The report concluded with a statement from Mike Murkowski, the prosecutor of Essex County. He said it appeared both men had been robbed. They might have been followed into the building by potential muggers and then lost their lives when they tried to resist. Barney Haskell had been shot in the back of his head and neck.

The CBS reporter asked if the fact that Barney Haskell reportedly had been in the process of plea bargaining in the Jimmy Weeks case, and was rumored to be about to connect Weeks to a murder, was being considered as a possible motive for the double slaying. The prosecutor’s sharp answer was, “No comment.”

It sounds like a mob hit, Kerry thought as she snapped off the radio. And Bob represents Jimmy Weeks. Wow, what a mess!

As she had expected, there was a message from Frank Green waiting on her desk. It was very short. “See me.” She tossed off her coat and went across the main hall to his private office.

He did not waste words. “What was Reardon’s mother doing coming in here and demanding to see you?”

Kerry chose her words carefully. “She came because I went down to the prison to see Skip Reardon and he received from me the correct impression that I didn’t see anything new that would be grounds for an appeal.”

She could see the lines around Green’s mouth relax, but it was clear he was angry. “I could have told you that. Kerry, ten years ago if I had thought there was one shred of evidence to suggest Skip Reardon’s innocence, I’d have run it into the ground. There wasn’t. Do you know what kind of hay the media would make of this if they thought my office was investigating that case now? They’d love to portray Skip Reardon as a victim. It sells papers-and it’s the kind of negative publicity they love to print about political candidates.”

His eyes narrowed, and he thudded his fingers on the desk for emphasis. “I’m damn sorry you weren’t in the office when we were investigating that murder. I’m damn sorry you didn’t see that beautiful woman strangled so viciously that her eyes had almost popped out. Skip Reardon had shouted at her so loudly in the morning that the meter reader who overheard them wasn’t sure whether he should call the cops before something happened. That was his statement under oath on the stand. I happen to think you’ll make a good judge, Kerry, if you get the chance, but a good judge exercises judgment. And right now I think yours is lousy.”