He reviewed the reports, completely immersed until Jimmy Maitland finally said from the open doorway, "Maitland to Savich and MAXINE. Are you two hovering anywhere close?"
Savich blinked, forcing himself to look up. He rose. "Hello, sir. What can I do for you? Have they caught Marlin Jones?"
Jimmy Maitland shook his head mournfully. "No, not yet, but it won't be much longer. All the major corridors out of Boston are covered with agents and locals. Oh yeah, Big John Bullock is hassling the Bureau office in Boston big-time. He wants to see Agent Sherlock. He wants what he's calling a predeposition. He wants to make some hay now before the cops have Marlin in custody again. What do you suggest we do?"
Savich sat back in his chair. Jimmy Maitland lowered himself into one of the chairs facing Savich's desk. "This isn't easy, is it? That opportunistic jerk, I wish Marlin had hit him harder."
"Too late. Come on, Savich, do you think Big John will make hash out of Sherlock?"
"No. Besides, we'll have a person from Justice with us. I think Sherlock is incidental. What he wants is to have the media crawling all over her, making her look guilty, and thus exonerating Marlin Jones, which is impossible. The guy's spitting in the wind."
"And if that doctor dies, it's more than just impossible. They just might launch him into space. Last I heard, it's still too close to call."
"If the doctor dies, I can see Big John going for manslaughter or murder two. No premeditation, an act of passion by an insane man, a man out of control, a man terrified about what was going to happen to him." Suddenly Savich sat upright in his chair, his hands clasped in front of him. "Let's do it. I think Sherlock can handle herself just fine. Let's face that bastard down. Who knows? We just might get something out of it."
Jimmy Maitland said very slowly, "You think just maybe Marlin will find out about her being in Boston? He'll try to get to her?"
Savich was very still. "Yeah, bottom line, that's why I think
we should go."
"It's a real long shot. Next to impossible."
"Yeah, but even if there's a remote chance it'd be worth it. But it's not just my decision to make. I'll speak to Sherlock. But you know something? I just don't think Marlin would even find out about her going to Boston-unless we let it loose to the media. Also, even if he does find out, he'd really have to be crazy to come after her."
"Maybe, but I just don't know. Big John will leak it to the media, count on it. I will too. But you're right, it's got to be Sherlock's decision. But you already know the answer, don't you, Savich?"
"Oh yes."
"The media are out in force, thicker than fleas on a one-eared dock rat," Jimmy Maitland said, blew his nose, then stuffed the handkerchief back into his coat pocket. He drew away from the window in the twenty-third-floor office of Big John Bullock. He wasn't happy with all this, but he knew that with the leak, there was no way in hell Marlin Jones didn't know about Sherlock being here in Boston. He wouldn't be surprised if Sherlock had called the media. She really wanted Marlin Jones, badly.
Buzz O'Farrell, the SAC of the Boston Bureau office, was just shaking his head. "It amazes me how they don't just send one reporter, no, it's four dozen with eight dozen mikes, enough cameras to film World War II, and everybody screaming. I wanted to shoot that damned judge, but the media? A nice deadly virus just might be the answer for them."
"They ain't got no manners, that's for sure," Savich said, grinning down at Sherlock, who looked both stoic and furious, an interesting combination he would have liked to explore with her in private. Which, unfortunately, wouldn't be an option this morning.
"Big John leaked it," Jimmy Maitland said, "we didn't. Actually, we'd decided to keep our noses clean. And yes, we know he leaked it. He's still counting on coming out smelling like a rose in all this and that's why he did it."
"If he hadn't, then I probably would have," Lacey said. "Sorry, sir, but there it is. Anything to give us another shot at Marlin Jones."
"Well, good morning to all you good law enforcement representatives," Big John Bullock said, walking into the immense walnut-paneled conference room in his law offices. He homed in immediately on Sherlock. "Good to see you again," he said.
She smiled at him. "I must say you're looking a bit more fit than the last time I saw you. Marlin sure did a number on your head, didn't he?"
"Poor boy, he was frantic to get out of that torture chamber. Shall we get down to business now?"