“Thanks,” Jared said, eyeing Kozlow.

Dressed in his standard three-quarter-length leather jacket, Kozlow strolled into Jared’s office. A small metal chain dangled from the front pocket of his faded jeans. “So what are we doing today? More legal stuff?”

“Yeah, more legal stuff.” Jared followed Kozlow into his office as Kathleen thanked the receptionist. “Now get in here so we can get started. Today, we work on your testimony.”

“I’m testifying? At the grand jury?”

“Without a doubt,” Jared said, taking a seat at his desk. “If we can get your story into a more believable form, we might be able to convince the grand jury not to indict. And if by some miracle they like you, chances are, they won’t vote against you.”

“Everyone likes me,” Kozlow insisted as he took a seat across from Jared’s desk. “Now what do I have to do?”

“First, I want you to get a good suit.”

“I have a good suit.”

“I’m sure you do, but I want you to have a business suit. Like mine.”

Kozlow looked at Jared’s pin-striped navy-blue suit. “Why would I want to dress like you?”

“There’s a good reason,” Jared said. He hit the intercom button on his phone. “Kathleen, can you come in here one second?” When Kathleen entered the room, Jared continued, “At about ten o’clock, I’d like you to take Mr. Kozlow shopping. He’ll need a conservative business suit, a nice understated tie, some loafers, and some wire-framed glasses. He needs to look believable.”

“I’m impressed – I haven’t been dressed that nice since the service,” Kozlow said.

“You were in the military?”

“Yeah, army for a bit. Now tell me who’s paying for all this.”

“It’s billed to Rafferty as an expense,” Jared said. “Nothing we do here is free. But if you want to convince people you’re innocent, the first step is looking the part.”

When Kathleen left, Jared pulled a legal pad from his briefcase. He was trying his best to treat this as if it were any other case, but he could feel his impatience growing. “Let’s go over your story. Tell me your version of it.”

“I was walking down the street, minding my own business, and some cop grabs me and tells me I’m under arrest,” Kozlow explained, his hands waving to accentuate his point. “Then he takes me to this woman’s house and says to her, ‘This is the guy that robbed your house, isn’t it?’”

“Is that the way he asked the question?” Jared asked as he made some notes. “Was it leading like that?”

“Oh, yeah. She couldn’t say anything but yes.”

That’ll work, Jared thought. “Now, where did you get the Ebel watch?”

“I found that on the street as I was walking.”

“And what about the silver golf ball?”

“I found that in the garbage. I thought it was my lucky night.”

Jared stared angrily at Kozlow. “You’re going to have to come up with some better answers than that. The grand jury isn’t that stupid.”

“How about this: He planted them both on me.”

“If the cop has a sketchy background, that may work. Now what about the four hundred and seventeen dollars?”

“That was my money,” Kozlow insisted. “It was even in my money clip when the cop pulled it from my pocket. Ask him – he’ll tell you.”

“Fine, I’ll ask him,” Jared said impatiently. “Now what about this: If you live in Brooklyn, what were you doing on the Upper East Side at three in the morning?”

Kozlow stopped. “That’s a pretty good question. I hadn’t thought of that before.”

Jared threw his pad on the desk. “Well, think now! We need a good answer. Without that, we’re going to get eaten alive in there.”

“Why? Rafferty said there’s no cross-examination in a grand jury. If that’s how it goes, then ask me all the softball questions.”

“There’s no cross-examination because only one lawyer is allowed to talk in a grand jury. And that lawyer is the assistant district attorney. Sara can ask you whatever she wants, and I can only sit there.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t testify.”

Jared leapt from his seat and strode around the desk. “Listen carefully to what I’m saying. I’m the lawyer here. Not you. Now if you were any other client, I wouldn’t give a damn if you lost this case. But I’m going to do everything I can to win it, and I’m not letting some dumb monkey wreck it for me. So if you’re not serious about this, tell me and I’ll-”

Kozlow jumped up and shoved Jared, sending him crashing into the wall. Grabbing him by the lapels, Kozlow pressed his elbows into Jared’s rib cage. “What’d I tell you yesterday? I’m not an idiot, so stop treating me like one.”

As the adrenaline wore off, Jared knew he was in trouble. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I know exactly what you meant,” Kozlow said, letting go of Jared. While Jared readjusted his shirt and tie, Kozlow silently stared out the window, pressing his head against the glass. He lightly tapped the window with his forehead. “If I testify, do we really have a better chance of winning?”

“If you testify and you’re believable, we can start learning the victory dance tonight. Misidentification cases are some of the easiest cases to confuse a jury on. Come up with a rational reason for why you were there, and the rest is easy. You know how many New Yorkers are running around in dark jeans and a dark leather coat?”

“Half a million?”

“At least,” Jared said. “Now let’s start over so we can get your story straight.”

“So Victor has never prosecuted Kozlow before?” Sara asked, leaning over Guff’s shoulder and staring at the computer screen.

“That’s what it says,” Guff replied. “Both of Kozlow’s cases were done by ADAs who no longer work here. But that doesn’t mean Victor and Kozlow don’t know each other. For all we know, Victor might’ve used Kozlow as a witness, or an informant, or for any other reason.”

“Can we check that through here?”

“Not really. AJIS is mostly an abridged database – just the main facts. There’s a section for witness lists, but most of them aren’t filled in. If we want to see every person involved, we have to go through the files manually.”

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Sara, Victor’s been in this office for almost fifteen years. We’re talking close to a thousand case files – each of them six inches thick. Just to pull the files will take at least a week.”

“I don’t care. I want those files.”

“But-”

“Guff, if there’s a connection between Victor and Kozlow, I’m going to find it. And I don’t care how long it takes me or how many pages I have to read.”

“It’s your eyesight.”

“Actually, it’s yours, too,” Sara pointed out. “Now we’ve got until one o’clock, when Doniger gets here. If you can get the most recent files, we can start now and work our way backwards.”

“So I shouldn’t get them all at once?”

“No – I don’t want Victor finding out about this. If he realizes what we’re doing, we’re dead. Order fifty of his cases, fifty of Conrad’s and fifty of some other hotshot’s. If anyone asks, tell them we’re studying how the best ADAs win in court.”

Guff smiled wide. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”

“Damn right I am. For the first time since this started, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“What the hell am I doing?” Sara groaned four and a half hours later, her desk and most of her office submerged under piles of case folders and storage boxes. “This is absolutely hopeless.”

“I warned you,” Guff said. “But did you listen? No. Did you trust me? No. Did you go off on your own, and act all cocky, and think you were going to save the day with one simple idea? Yes, yes, and yes. And what do we have to show for it? Dust. Dust on our hands, dust on my tie, dust in my lap. I’m serious, missy, I’m not happy about this. Not happy one bit.”

“Guff, did anyone see you put in the request for these?”

“I don’t think so.”

“And is there any way to tell if someone else checked them out before us?”