“Or Trini is testifying in a case.” Holly opened the door.

“Where are you going?” Stone asked.

“I’m going to follow them,” she said. “You park the car.”

“How will I know where you’re going?”

“If Trini is testifying, they’ll be going to a courtroom, won’t they?”

“I can’t argue with that.” Stone found a parking place and followed her into the courthouse.

STONE STOPPED AT the desk before the metal detector and showed his Orchid Beach badge. “I’m armed,” he said.

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” the guard said, “only federal officers can carry inside the courthouse. You’ll have to check your weapon.” Stone gave the man his Walther and got a receipt, then he walked through the metal detector and into a hallway.

His cell phone vibrated. “Hello?”

“It’s Dino. Elaine’s tonight?”

“Sorry, it’s too long a drive.”

“What?”

“I’m in Santa Fe, New Mexico.”

“What the fuck are you doing way the hell out there?”

“I’m with Holly. It’s the Trini thing; we followed him out here.”

“You’ve gone out of your fucking mind,” Dino said pleasantly. “I mean, I can see fooling around with this thing to get the girl in the sack, but…”

“Dino, this has nothing to do with sex.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Well, not much. I share her outrage that the Feds would let this guy take a walk, that’s all, and it worries me that she’s doing this alone.”

“Well, you’re going to worry yourself right into a federal prison, if you’re not careful. Lance told me about your attempt to bust this guy. You’ve been warned off. Why are you still in this?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m getting near the end of my rope. I’m ready to come back to New York.”

“Call me when you get in. We’ll have dinner, and I’ll straighten you out.” Dino hung up.

Stone put the phone away and looked up and down the hallway. No sign of Holly. He found a courtroom and peeked inside. It was half full of people, but there was no judge on the bench, yet. Holly was sitting in the back row of seats. He went in and joined her.

“What’s happening?”

“Trini and two FBI agents are sitting in the first row, behind the prosecutor’s table,” she said, nodding. “The guy at the table must be Byron Miller.”

Stone looked at the two men sitting at the table, their backs to him. “If the U.S. Attorney himself is trying a case, then it has to be an important one.”

A bailiff stood up and shouted the name of a judge, and the crowd stood until he was seated.

“Mr. Miller, call your next witness,” the judge said.

Miller stood up and called Trini, then waited while he was sworn and sat down. “Mr. Rodriguez,” he said, “were you, until recently, a member of organized crime?”

“Yes,” Trini replied. “Until late last year I worked for a family in Florida.”

“By ‘family’ do you mean a Mafia family?”

“Yes.”

“What were your duties?”

“I arranged loans for applicants and took care of collections.”

“Loans from the Mafia family?”

“Yes.”

“Were these loans made to people who could not obtain them from conventional banks?”

“Yes.”

“Were these loans made at very high interest rates?”

“Yes.”

“Was this, in fact, an illegal loan sharking company?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Did you attend a meeting of organized crime figures on June tenth of last year in Miami, Florida?”

“Yes, I did,” Trini said.

“What was the purpose of the meeting?”

“Some people from New Mexico wanted to get financing for a new racetrack.”

“Was anyone in this courtroom besides yourself present at this meeting?”

“Yes.”

“Could you point out these people?”

Trini pointed at the defense table. “Those two gentlemen right there.”

“Let the record show that Mr. Rodriguez is pointing to the two defendants, Roberto and Chico Rivera.” Miller turned back to Trini. “Did the organization you worked for make a loan to the Rivera brothers?”

“Yes, we did.”

“In what amount?”

“Two million dollars.”

“And what were the funds intended for?”

“To bribe public officials in New Mexico to pave the way for their getting a license to build the racetrack.”

“Did you ever learn if they were successful in bribing public officials in New Mexico?”

“Yes. We learned that they had been successful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez.” He turned to the defense table. “Your witness.”

The defense attorney stood up and began to bombard Trini with questions.

Holly leaned over to Stone and whispered, “How long do you think this is going to go on?”

“My guess would be not long. Let’s go outside.”

They got up and went out into the hallway.

“We could take him when he leaves the courthouse,” Holly said.

“Not on federal property,” Stone replied. “Your warrant has no force here, unless you get a federal judge to sign off on it.”

“Then I’ll go to the judge in this case where he’s just testified,” Holly said.

Stone shrugged. “You can try.”

They went back into the courtroom.

“Thank you, Mr. Rodriguez,” the judge said. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute recess before continuing with the next witness.” He stood up and left the courtroom.

“Let’s go,” Holly said. She approached the bailiff and flashed her badge. “I’d like to see the judge, please.”

“On what business?”

Holly produced her paperwork. “I have a fugitive warrant for a witness in this case.”

“Just a minute.” The bailiff took the warrant and disappeared through a door. Five minutes passed, then the bailiff came back, approached the prosecutor’s table, and spoke with Byron Miller, who rose and followed him toward the judge’s chambers. The bailiff beckoned Holly and Stone to follow.

The judge was sitting at his desk eating a sandwich, his robe thrown over a chair. “You’re Chief Barker?” he said to Holly.

“Yes, Your Honor, and this is my associate, Stone Barrington.”

“This is the United States Attorney, Mr. Byron Miller,” the judge said, nodding toward Miller. “Everybody sit down.”

They sat.

“Mr. Miller, this police officer has presented me with what seems to be a properly executed fugitive warrant for your witness, Mr. Rodriguez, on charges of murder.”

“That’s twelve murders, Judge,” Holly said.

“Are you all done with Mr. Rodriguez?” the judge asked Miller.

“Yes, Judge,” Miller said, “but Mr. Rodriguez has been certified by the attorney general for the Witness Protection Program. He has recently played an important role in breaking up a terrorist ring in New York, and the FBI have informed me that he will be testifying in other trials to come. It’s important that he remain in federal custody until the government is done with him.”

Stone spoke up. “Your Honor, the fact that Mr. Rodriguez has been placed in the Witness Protection Program indicates that, even when the government is done with him, they have no intention of returning him to the Florida jurisdiction for trial on these murder charges. They’re going to let him walk.”

“Is that the case, Mr. Miller?” the judge asked.

“I can’t speak for the attorney general in this matter, Judge.”

“Well, you’ve been speaking for him up until now. Why are you getting so shy all of a sudden?”

“Your Honor, I can only tell you that this witness is crucial to more than one case against defendants who are far worse than he is, and that he needs to be kept in federal custody until he has finished testifying.”

“And how long do you anticipate that will be?”

“I can’t say, Your Honor, since the cases are spread over more than just this jurisdiction.”

The judge flipped through the warrant again. “Well,” he said, “I don’t like the sound of this at all. These are heinous crimes, and the government ought not to be able to ignore them and give this witness protection from being brought to justice. I’m going to authorize Chief Barker to serve her warrant, take Mr. Rodriguez into custody, and return him to her jurisdiction for trial. If the government wants him to testify in further trials, they can apply to the judge in the state case for temporary custody.”