The academic dean at Harvard Law was an old friend from law review days. He’d been begging her for years to teach a course. Working as an adjunct professor wouldn’t normally have been an attractive proposition for Kathryn. It was a lot of work for pittance pay, and she had no need to burnish her résumé by hyping her connection to Harvard. But it did come with one important perk—office space. There were four shared offices set aside for adjuncts that could be reserved on a rotating basis, for any day on which you taught a class or held office hours. During the period that the office was reserved, it was yours exclusively. It had a door that locked with a key, a desktop computer with internet access, and a landline telephone. Private space. Above reproach. Enhancing her reputation served their interests. She went to Ray with the idea. He approved it right away. And not a moment too soon. Her problems weren’t just getting worse—they were converging.
On the day that Kathryn invited Madison Rivera to apply for the internship in her chambers, two bad things happened. First, she got a phone call with terrible news, though it was not unexpected. It came in from an unidentified number whose caller ID was blocked, just as she’d instructed.
Sylvia sounded even weaker than the last time they’d talked.
“I’m worried about you, Mom,” she said. “You don’t sound good.”
“I beat it before. I’ll beat it again.”
“You need help. A home health aide. Or a nanny. Or both.”
“That’s a terrible idea, and you know it.”
“I’d vet them carefully.”
“No strangers, Kathy. It’s not worth the risk.”
“What happens if you collapse? Your platelet levels—”
“Don’t you dare use that doctor’s report against me.”
“I’m not using anything against you. I’m just worried about you. About her.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll talk to my neighbor Denise. She’s good people. I trust her in a pinch. You spend your energy getting out, understand? I want to see you again while I’m still aboveground.”
The knock on the office door made her jump. Instinctively, she knew it was more bad news.
“Sorry, I have to go,” she whispered, and hung up. “Come in!”
Her throat went dry when she saw who it was. Andrew Martin had been a hotshot prosecutor in Boston, with that killer combination of Ken-doll looks and naked ambition. Juries loved him. He was assigned to all the big cases. But then a few months ago, he surprised everyone by transferring to the Public Integrity Section in Washington, DOJ’s equivalent of Internal Affairs. Not long after, Ray received a tip that Martin had joined a new DOJ investigation into law enforcement corruption in Boston. They were adding prosecutors and agents at a rapid clip, looking into everything. They were even planning to reopen the cold-case murder of Brad McCarthy. Ray dropped in for a visit, supposedly to reassure her, but she knew better. He was getting his ducks in a row. It’ll be all right, he’d said with a warning look, as long as nobody talks.
And now Andrew Martin was at the door. Thank God it was here and not in chambers, where there were spies. But he probably knew that.
“Judge Conroy, I hope I’m not interrupting. Andrew Martin from the Department of Justice.”
“Yes, I know who you are. What are you doing on campus? Teaching, already, so early in your career?” she said, though she knew he wasn’t.
He placed a hand on the back of the guest chair. “No, I’m actually here to see you, Your Honor. May I sit down? This won’t take long.”
“Okay, but could you—”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. He understood the danger. Nodding, he closed the door, then drew the chair close to her desk and kept his voice low.
“I’m here because I’m working on an investigation of an influence-peddling scheme by prominent individuals in law enforcement. We have reason to believe that you might have pertinent information.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed visibly. How much did they know?
“Anything is possible,” she said. “I’ve worked in the justice system for over fifteen years. I know literally hundreds of law enforcement officers. I’d like to help, but you’ll have to be more specific. Who exactly are you investigating?”
“Unfortunately, I can’t disclose that right now.”
“Then I don’t see how I can comment.”
“I’m not asking you to say anything here, or now. It’s not secure. I think you know that. I’d like to invite you to DC for an interview. We can discuss specifics then. I work with Brooke Lee, who was just appointed the new head of Public Integrity at Main Justice. She would very much like the opportunity to sit down with you.”