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Hellman, is that he’s going to try and stir up as much trouble as he can.”

Hellman pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the perspiration from his face. Bureau of Investigation. What the hell kind of power would they have over Chandler? Civil rights violation? Public fraud? Violation of public trust? Are they going to try and nail me instead, being that I’m an officer of the, court and—

“Mr. Hellman?” Palucci was saying.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just...thinking.”

“I thought maybe Chandler could give Jennings a call and straighten him out, get him to calm down and—”

“Thanks, Mr. Palucci, I appreciate your concern. I’ll handle it from this point. If anything else comes your way, please give me a call.”

“You don’t understand,” Palucci said, his voice vibrating with anxiety. “My neck’s in the sling on this one. If Jennings so much as mentions it to the chief, I’m out of a job. Terminated. Twenty years down the tubes. Internal Affairs will rip me apart.”

“What makes you think Internal Affairs will get involved?”

“Once the chief knows about this, he has no choice but to report it to them.”

Hellman sighed, rubbed his forehead. “Okay, I hear you. I’ll get on it right away, talk with Chandler, see what we can do.”

Hellman hung up the phone and sat there a moment. Beads of perspiration crept down his forehead and onto his cheek, tickling him back to reality. He wiped his face again, reached for the phone, and called Chandler.

The next morning, Chandler was returning from a crime scene when his cell phone rang. It was Denise.

“Everything okay?”

“I didn’t want to bother you at work,” she said, “but I checked our machine during a break, and there was a message from Jeffrey Hellman. He said he tried your cell last night, but it went straight to voicemail. He left a message at home, too, but the sitter obviously forgot to tell us.”

“Did he say what it was about?”

“Just that it was very important. I’ve got the numbers if you want to call him.”

Chandler jotted down the information and reached Hellman in his car on the way to court for an unrelated case. Their conversation was interrupted by occasional crackles.

“Shit,” was all Chandler could manage at first. “What are the ramifications?”

“Well, if Jennings tells Denton, which is likely, I really don’t see any harm to you—what are they going to get you on, petty theft of a cigarette? There’s just nothing there.”

“So then what’s the problem?”

“It seems that most of this falls on your friend Lou. I’ve been running it over in my head, and it’s probably going to go like this: if the chief of Forensic Services finds out about it, he’s going to get Internal Affairs involved, and your friend Palucci will be history. And if the chief doesn’t report it to Internal Affairs, Jennings is going to go straight to the attorney general and he’ll get the Bureau of Investigation to look into it. Either way, Palucci—”

“I can’t let that happen, Jeffrey. He was doing me a favor.”

“And that’s why Jennings is going to be all over this. But a bigger problem is that Denton could get you—and me—on obstruction of justice.”

“Because we didn’t turn over the Harding DNA results?”

“We technically should have alerted them to the results immediately. I did tell Denton that he should obtain a DNA sample on her, but I didn’t tell him why. I didn’t tell him that we’d already run the tests.”

“You couldn’t tell him.”

“Thanks to you.” Hellman paused. “If you’d only run it through a private lab—”

“I don’t want to go through all that again,” Chandler said as he walked up the stairs toward the lab. “It’s not gonna get us anywhere.”

“It’s messy. It’s goddamned messy. If Jennings is out for blood, he’s got a good case. His vampire teeth are polished and poised for action.” They were interrupted by a crackle.

“Should we talk about this later, when you’re back at your office?” Chandler asked, concerned about the security of the cell signal.

“We’re fine.”

“What if Harding and her attorney find out about his? Could they file a federal suit against me for violating her civil rights?”

“We’re talking about a cigarette,” Hellman said. “A piece of consumable merchandise. Petty theft of a cigarette, for Christ’s sake.”

“No, we’re talking about DNA. There’s nothing much more private than your own genetic code.”

“Did she see you take the cigarette?”

“I don’t know.” Chandler thought a moment and remembered that she did not return to the table after leaving to take a few drags. Was that the reason—did she see him bag the cigarette and slip it in his pocket? He shook his head. “I doubt it. Unless she left it there purposely to set me up—”

“Now you’re getting paranoid.”

“Who the hell knows with her?” He stopped on a landing and took a deep breath. “Look, even if she didn’t see me take it, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that she took out a cigarette during lunch with me, and then a couple of hours later there’s a cigarette in the crime lab that I’m asking Gray to run a lip print and DNA analysis on.”

After a moment’s thought, Hellman said, “I just don’t see a fourth amendment issue here.”

“What about a civil suit? Could Harding and her attorney go after me for a civil rights violation?”

Hellman snorted. “I don’t have to tell you that anybody can file a civil suit for anything. All it takes is a few hundred bucks. It doesn’t stand a chance of winning, but yeah, they could file one. And you’d be spending a lot more time in California away from your family than you’d like. Win or lose.” He paused. “But I really think the biggest problem lies with your buddy Palucci and the obstruction of justice issue.”

Chandler clenched his jaw. “What if I call Jennings myself and confront him?”

“No. That’ll be worse.”

“Fine. Then I have another idea,” Chandler said. “Let me make a few calls and I’ll get back to you.”

“What

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