“Why do this?” Sara typed. “Conrad says we can have this entire place searched for bugs. They’ll be in and out in two hours, and then we can speak as freely as we want.”

With a quick flourish at the keyboard, Jared wrote back, “No way. If we have this place searched, Rafferty will know something’s up. I say we play it safe until the trial.”

Typing in her one-finger-at-a-time mode, Sara wrote, “But my typing sucks.”

Jared laughed to himself. This was what he missed. He put his hand on the back of Sara’s head and pulled her toward him. Ever so slightly, he kissed the side of her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her earlobe. With his lips brushing against her ear, he whispered, “I really do love you.” As he worked his way down the side of her neck, he slowly undid the top buttons of her blouse.

Closing her eyes, Sara was ready to lose herself in the moment. Suddenly, though, it hit her. Pulling away, she typed, “Forget it. Not while they’re listening.”

“They’ll never hear,” Jared typed back.

“That’s right,” Sara typed. “They won’t.”

“Are you serious?”

Sara pounded out nothing but an exclamation point.

“Fine, I’ll just sit here and suffer,” Jared typed. “Here I am suffering. I’m suffering. I’m suffering.” He paused. “I’m still suffering.” When Sara slapped him on the back, he wrote, “What else happened at work? Any news?”

“Not yet,” Sara typed. “Tomorrow.”

When Sara and Jared had sat down to start typing, neither of them noticed that their desk had been moved about a quarter of an inch to the right. They didn’t notice the additional upward tilt of their computer monitor or the brand-new splitter and extra wire that had been connected to the main monitor cable. And they certainly didn’t notice the way the split wire ran behind the desk and into a perfectly drilled hole in their wall. Or how that wire snaked its way down alongside the gas furnace’s vent pipe, which led directly to the basement. When it reached the basement, the wire connected to another monitor. And on that monitor, he read every word Jared and Sara typed.

Early Tuesday morning, Sara stepped onto the elevator with her shoulders back and her chin high. Darnell took one look and smiled. “My, oh, my, you must be eating those Wheaties,” he said. “You got the look of a champion.”

“That’s my secret,” Sara said.

As the elevator doors were about to shut, a young man wearing a short-sleeve dress shirt jumped inside. Sara instantly recognized him as the man who not only delivered the booking sheets to ECAB but had also originally suggested that she steal Victor’s case.

“What’s up, Darnell?” he asked. “Any good rumors I should… Hey,” he added as soon as he saw Sara. “Nice to see you again.”

“You two know each other?” Darnell asked.

“In a way,” Sara said. Extending her hand, she added, “Officially, by the way, I’m Sara.”

“Malcolm,” he said as the elevator doors closed. “So how’s that case working out? Was I right, or was I right?”

“You said it first: It certainly was a winner.”

“Of course it was a winner. You wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t.”

Sara raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”

“You know, the case.”

“What about the case?”

Malcolm fell silent. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry. I thought you guys had already spoken.”

“About what? Who’re you talking about?”

Malcolm looked over at Darnell, then back to Sara. They were both staring at him. “Listen, I’m done with this one. My mouth isn’t big enough for two feet.”

“Malcolm…”

“No, no, no, it’s not going to work. If you’re having problems, go bother Victor.” As the elevator doors opened on the sixth floor, Malcolm stepped out. “I’ll see you later, Sara. Later, Darnell.”

When the doors slammed shut, Darnell asked, “You okay? You look Casper.”

“Just get me to the next floor,” Sara said. “Fast.”

Rushing out of the elevator and straight to her office, Sara pulled open a desk drawer and took out one of her old legal pads. Keep it together, she told herself. Don’t get lost. Just figure out the hows and whys. Mentally replaying the conversation with Malcolm, she scrutinized every syllable. You wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t. I wouldn’t have gotten it if it wasn’t. I would not have gotten it. She flipped through the legal pad and stopped on a clean sheet. Once again, she asked herself: Why would Victor want this case? Carefully and methodically, she went through all her old answers: Because he knows Kozlow, because he hates Kozlow, because he wants to punish Kozlow.

Damn, she thought. It was right there the entire time. From the very first day, he was preying on her weakness. Shutting her eyes, she tried to fill in the rest. Finally, it started to make sense. As her fists tightened, she could feel the rage working its way up the back of her neck. She didn’t bother to fight it. “You son of a bitch!” she screamed as she threw her legal pad against the wall. “How could I be so stupid?”

Slamming the door to her office, Sara flew down the hallway, ignoring everyone in sight. Without knocking, she threw open Victor’s door.

“Come in,” Victor said, looking up from his desk.

Sara was fuming.

“I take it there’s a problem?”

“You knew, didn’t you?” Sara asked.

“I’m sorry, do you want to tell me what we’re talking about?”

“Don’t play bewildered with me. You knew the whole time, didn’t you? That first day we met in the elevator, you knew exactly who I was. You knew my name, my background, everything there was to know about me. And most important, you knew how hungry I was for a case.”

“Sara, I have no idea what you’re-”

“It wasn’t even that hard to plan, was it? Once you gave Malcolm a good enough excuse, all you had to do was find a big enough sucker. Someone who would do a good job, but still be easy to influence. Someone who was aggressive, but still too naive to suspect anything. Someone who was vulnerable. And desperate. And would take the case. Someone like me.”

“You’ve got yourself quite a story there.”

“This whole time I’ve been kicking myself for being so stupid. For being so greedy. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there, Victor? I didn’t steal that case on my own. You set me up and made sure I got it.”

Sitting behind his desk, Victor let out the tiniest of smirks.

“I can’t believe it,” Sara said. “Why? Why didn’t you keep it for yourself?”

“As I’ve always said, I don’t know what you’re talking about. But that Kozlow’s quite a handful, isn’t he?”

Sara clenched her teeth. “You’re a real bastard, Victor.”

“Even if I am, I’m one with far fewer headaches.”

“Are you sure about this?” Conrad asked. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s to make sense?” Sara said. “It’s Victor.”

“So let me get this straight – you’re saying that when you were in ECAB that first day, Victor not only knew Malcolm was going to deliver that case, but he had already told Malcolm to make sure that you stole it?”

“Exactly.”

“But if Victor didn’t want the case, why not just give it away? And if he wanted it prosecuted, no offense, but why give it to you? Why not give it to me or someone with experience?”

“Because he never wanted Kozlow or Rafferty to know that he didn’t want it.”

“So now you don’t think Victor buries cases?”

“No, I just think he didn’t want to bury this case.” Seeing Conrad’s confused look, she added, “Let me start over. I’m still convinced that Victor’s playing in some fishy ponds. I think he has a few wealthy clients who pay him a great deal of money to bury easy-to-miss cases, and I think he’s as dirty as they come. Now what I’m willing to bet happened here is that one of Rafferty’s big-shot friends told Rafferty about Victor. And when Kozlow got arrested in this case, Rafferty quickly went crying to Victor. The thing is, Victor’s not stupid. He knows his little game only works if everything can be kept quiet. And as we know, Kozlow is to quiet as, well… as a raging maniac is to quiet.”