Stealing the Elf-King's Roses: The Author's Cut Read Online Free PDF Page B

“I got your message,” Lee said.
    Matt sat back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair, a gesture that succeeded no more at calming it down than it ever had. “You did a nice job on the Blair thing,” he said.
    “Thanks,” said Lee and Gelert more or less in unison.
    “We have a little problem,” said Matt.
    “The day you don’t,” Gelert said, “is the day we all go on the dole, so all I can say is, How nice. Details?”
    “We had an Elf murdered last night,” Matt said, and made it sound as if the murder had been pointed specifically at him. But that was one of the reasons he’d moved up in the DA’s Office so fast: he took everything personally, and worked as if every murder or assault had happened in his own living room—with intelligence, and an odd uncalculating animus that confused and annoyed some of his coworkers.
    “Dil’Sorren,” Lee said, remembering the late news. Gelert cocked an eye at her, said nothing.
    “Sorden,” said Matt.
    “A shooting. Messy,” Lee said to Gelert. She glanced back at Matt. “Wilshire District, wasn’t it?”
    “That’s right. We’re still in the early stages—”
    “Eight hours on?” Gelert said. “I should think so.”
    Matt bent his most furious frown on Gelert, though Lee thought he should have known it was wasted. He’s been up all night , she thought.  Why would that happen on a murder this fresh?  “We’ve been getting some grief from dil’Sorden’s employers,” he said. “They’re not satisfied with our progress.”
    “After eight hours?” Lee said. “Are they nuts? You’d be lucky to have even beginning forensics done by then.”
    “You shouldn’t even let them into the office so soon,” Gelert said.
    Matt looked even more furious. “We can’t keep them out. They’re ExTel.”
    Lee and Gelert exchanged another look. “Oh really,” Lee said. “Not our friend Mr. Hagen?”
    “The very same,” said Matt, “and he’s set a fire under Renselaar, which is the reason for this call.”
    Jim Renselaar was the DA, and up for reappointment this year, which had turned him into something of a firebreather in service to the Mayor’s Office…not that anyone was fooled by this: they knew Big Jim had his eye on the mayoral chain himself.  And Renselaar can’t afford to ignore the support which a   locally based multinational like ExTel could lend to his campaign someday , Lee thought.  Not to   mention his campaign chest.
    “The boss wants you two to come in and do psychoforensics on dil’Sorden,” Matt said. “He knows you’re sweet with Hagen after that last job you did for ExTel, and you’re in a good spot with the press right now. And batting hot, four for four…so he expects you to produce.”
    “Themis does seem to have been on our side these last couple of months,” Gelert said, “but we can’t make any guarantees as regards Lady Luck…which Big Jim knows. I suspect he’s got our good relationship with Hagen more on his mind. We’re going to be, shall we say, his asbestos seat cushion.”
    “ Just  forensics?” Lee said, perhaps more sharply than she intended. “Not litigation?”
    “That we’ll negotiate later.”
    “Not the slightest chance, Matt,” Lee said. “We sort that out  now . No  way  are we going to do the tough spadework on this case and then hand it off to a lit team that’s going to blow all our disclosure work, or plea-bargain it off for a quick small win.”
    “Lee, you know what they’re going to say—”
    “All too damn well,” Lee said. “Because they were saying it on the courthouse steps, and they’re not going to stop saying it no matter how we participate in this case. The only thing that matters now is that we find out just who left that poor Elf with his insides blown out last night, and why. If we discover, we prosecute. The press won’t give a damn after you’ve leaked the salient details to them and made your boss look good. We get a kill, because you