“But Conrad-”

“Conrad knew better than anyone. You remember what he said.”

“Of course I remember – and thanks to this, I’ll never forget. When we suggested sending a cop, he was the one who said we should do it ourselves, that that was the only way to ensure the secret. The thing is-”

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Sara said.

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Guff agreed. Sara had hit it right on the head. Just like Conrad used to. “Listen, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put the burden on you.”

“It’s not like that anymore – I don’t mind the burden. And in this case, I deserve it. I just want to make sure you-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get through it. Between the two of us, we’ll have plenty to keep us busy: cases to prosecute, reporters to talk to, essays to write…”

“Essays?”

“Sure, if I’m going to get into law school, I’m going to need some good essays.”

Sara smiled. “You’re really applying to law school?”

“Would this face lie?” Guff asked, squeezing his own cheeks. “That was always the plan. This just gave it more immediacy.”

“Good for you, Guff. I think he’d really like that.”

“Of course he would. Then he’d have another disciple to brainwash.”

Sara laughed. They’d definitely get through it. “Speaking of disciples, O Great One, in the rush to get out of there yesterday, I never got a chance to thank you for everything you did. Without you-”

“You wouldn’t have stolen the case? You wouldn’t have gone through this ordeal? You wouldn’t have a sofa or a cool DA’s badge?”

“I’m serious, Alexander.”

“Uh-oh, first-name alert! First-name alert! Incoming serious discourse!”

“Make jokes all you want, but I really appreciate everything you did. You didn’t make me take the case – I took it to help myself. And since neither of us could’ve known that Victor set me up for it, it’s my responsibility.”

“That’s nice, but you don’t have to-”

“Please let me finish,” Sara said. “I promise I won’t get mushy or sentimental. From the moment I walked in here, you were my… amigo. And as someone who doesn’t get close to many people, that means a lot to me. No matter how bad things got, you were always there to help, and you always-”

“You’re getting muuushy,” Guff sang.

“Just take the compliment. Thank you for everything.”

“Fine. You’re welcome. I just hope our next adventure is a bit more pedestrian. Maybe we can get a cult massacre or something calming like that.”

“We should be so lucky.”

“Exactly,” Guff said. “And speaking of lucky, Adam Flam wants to talk to you.”

“Who’s Adam Flam?”

“Head of the discipline committee. They just got out of the Victor meeting.”

“They did? What’d they decide?”

“Go talk to him.”

“C’mon, Guff, just tell me.”

“I’m not saying a word. If you want to find out, talk to him. Room 762.”

“Fine,” Sara said, heading to the door. “But it better not be bad news.”

“What do you mean you’re not indicting?” Sara asked as she stood in front of Flam’s desk.

“Just what I said,” Flam replied calmly. He was a thickset man with tired eyes and a heavy Boston accent. “The committee decided there wasn’t enough evidence to indict.”

“Not enough evidence? If there wasn’t enough evidence, why’d they put him on probation? Since the moment this thing started, Victor’s had his hand in everything we’ve done. He was the one who asked for the case, and when he got it, he was the one who made sure I took it from him.”

“Asking for a case isn’t illegal. And last I checked, neither is putting your own name on a case folder.”

“What about Doniger? She can testify that-”

“Doniger doesn’t know anything. We questioned her until three in the morning, and she didn’t give us a scrap. Whatever Victor was involved in, his ties were only to Rafferty and Kozlow, both of whom, as corpses, would be terrible witnesses. It’s a simple proof issue – and until we can get that, the committee decided they didn’t want to risk morale on an unsuccessful indictment.”

“Morale? What the hell does this have to do with morale?”

“Everything,” Flam answered. “Victor’s one of the most respected ADAs in this office – he’s part of the institution. So before you can take him down, you better be sure you have the evidence against him. If not, you’re going to have half of the law-enforcement population screaming for your head.”

“Are you telling me Victor’s not getting indicted because he won last year’s popularity contest?”

“No, he’s not getting indicted because you don’t have the evidence.”

“I have some evidence.”

“Tate, you don’t have a case. And until you do, morality has to take a backseat to reality. Be thankful you went four-for-five and leave it at that.”

“It’s still not right.”

“Neither was what happened to Conrad.”

Sara refused to reply. It was something she was going to have to get used to. “Anything else?”

“We decided not to suspend you for goading Rafferty into shooting at you. And trust me, that was a gift – if you hadn’t riled him up, that cop might’ve never been shot.”

“I’m not saying it was a smart move, I just didn’t want to give him another crack at exploiting the system.”

“And what about Doniger’s gun?”

“What about it?” Sara asked.

“I went down to the evidence room this morning. There were six bullets in it.”

“So?”

“So it was supposed to be empty.”

“What can I say? Some bluffs work, some don’t. You should just be happy the rest of us are safe.”

“No, you should be happy our committee overlooked that one,” Flam said. “And just so there’s no confusion, Conrad was our friend, too.”

Sara realized that even when Guff went off to law school, she wasn’t going to be alone. “Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t thank me. From what I hear, you’re going to make a great ADA.”

“I plan to,” Sara said.

When she was done at Flam’s, Sara walked back up the hallway to Conrad’s office. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the last time she was there, but when she stepped inside, it already felt different. The sofa was still in the same place, the desk was still uncluttered, and the out-box still held more paperwork than the in-box, but something was clearly wrong. Despite the fact that it was filled with furniture, the room was empty.

Sara shut her eyes. Memorizing the smells of the office, she tried to picture his face. It was easy – easier than she’d thought. But she knew that that too would fade. And this was different from Lenny Barrow. She didn’t have an old picture to fall back on. So she made one.

Sara moved toward the sofa and opened her briefcase. Inside was her portrait of Conrad – just like the ones she had done of Jared. Pulling it out, she stared at his face. And for that moment, he was back again. She could hear him yell, and rant, and teach, and scream. It had taken her all night to get it perfect, but he deserved no less. Carefully, she set it down on his spotless desk. She’d frame it later, but for now, it belonged here. “Good-bye,” she whispered as she left the office.

As she closed the door behind her, she turned around and read the two quotations still attached to the translucent glass: “Crimine ab uno disce omnes – From a single crime know the nation” – Virgil; and “Fame is something which must be won; honor is something which must not be lost” – Arthur Schopenhauer. She pulled the quotes from the door, being careful not to rip the tape which held them there, and headed back down the hallway.

As soon as she reached her office, she slapped the quotes onto her own door and pressed them into place. Stepping back, she admired the new view. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was a start.

“He wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Guff said.

“Someone’s got to do it,” she replied. Without even opening her door, Sara walked down the hallway.