“I just can’t do it,” Marie said, her voice quavering. “I thought I could. I got dressed and came out here, fully prepared to march into that courtroom and do what you want me to do. But when I arrived, when I saw all those people lined up on the steps, all those cameras circling like vultures, ready to pounce on the slightest sign of weakness-I lost it.”

“Marie,” Christina said, “this is really not a matter that’s open to debate. You have to go back into the courtroom. It’s important that the jury see that you still support your husband.”

“The jury saw me running out of the room in tears.”

“And they will understand that. Any one of them might have done the same. When you return, it will be a sign that you’ve forgiven your husband’s indiscretion. That you’ve reconciled. That you’re still behind him one hundred and ten percent.”

“Which is hogwash. All of it.” Christina noted that the woman was able to cry, even to dab her tears, without ever once smudging her makeup. “There’s been no reconciliation. We haven’t even talked about it.”

“If I may be blunt, Marie, I don’t care about the reality of the situation. All I care about is what those jurors see. And what I want them to see is you, back there, in that courtroom.”

The woman’s eyes were misting. “You don’t understand. You just don’t understand.”

Christina reached out and touched her hand. “I want to.”

Marie shook her head, brushing away the tears. “Did you listen to the news reports last night? Did you hear what they were saying about me? About Todd’s political future?”

“Sorry, I had work to do. But if you don’t come back into the courtroom, I can’t imagine that he has any political future.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” she said quietly. “Maybe we’d all be happier.”

“Marie, I’m sorry, but we just don’t have time for this speculation and hand-wringing. Court will be back in session in less than ten minutes. And you have to be there.”

“No. I’m sorry. I understand what you’re saying and I’m sure you’re right. But I just can’t do it.”

“Do you want your husband to be convicted?” Christina hadn’t meant to shout, but her voice came out much louder than she had intended. The question hung in the cold air between them like a poisonous balloon.

“Of course I don’t.”

“Then get over it already and get in there. Because if you don’t, you’ll do him more damage than any witness the prosecution has put on the stand or ever will.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not. As strong as the prosecution’s case may seem, they don’t have an eyewitness. They have to rely on circumstantial evidence and character testimony. But they couldn’t buy character testimony any more damning than what you’ll deliver if you don’t appear in court today. That’s the bottom line, Marie.” She leaned forward, eliminating the possibility of Marie averting her eyes. “If you don’t want your husband to die, you’ll march your fanny back into that courtroom. Pronto.”

“Get an ambulance!” Loving screamed, but no one was moving fast enough for him. He rammed the cell phone into Daily’s hand and punched 9-1-1 for him. After that, he grabbed the gun from where it had fallen, ran out to the top of the stairs, and fired three shots into the ceiling. The crowd panicked; everyone ran for the door. Good. Loving wanted the place clear when the ambulance made the scene. There was a small risk of someone being trampled in the rush to get out the doors, but at this point he couldn’t get too worked up about a decrease in the global Goth population.

When he returned, he found Lucille sitting on a chair, rubbing her sore face, and Daily hunched over Amber, tears streaming from his eyes, blood gushing from her neck.

“My baby,” Daily whispered, breathing in broken heaves. “Please don’t die. Please don’t die.”

In the corner of his eye, Loving saw the creep-Randy, apparently-swivel around and make as if he thought he might split.

Loving raised the gun. “One more step and I’ll kill you dead. And enjoy it.”

Randy slunk back into his chair.

Loving got another towel and tried to stop the bleeding from Amber’s neck, but he couldn’t tie a tourniquet without strangling her. He couldn’t tell how serious it was. It looked horrible, but he knew neck, head, and shoulder wounds always bled profusely.

If Amber died, the only remaining hope…

Even as he was thinking it, he saw her eyelids flutter.

Loving bent down on one knee, nudging Daily to one side. “I don’t know how well you can hear me, Amber. I don’t know if you can talk. But if you can-if you can do anythin’-please help me. Where’s Beatrice?”

It could’ve been his imagination, but he thought he saw a tiny rise of an eyebrow.

“Beatrice?” Randy, the drug addict in the chair, began to chortle. “You mean that mousy cow with the fat ass?”

Loving felt his trigger finger tightening. God give him strength. “Do you know where she is?”

“Hell, no.” He fell back against the chair, still laughing. “She cut out days ago, after we’d all had a turn at her and she’d had so much she couldn’t see straight. You think we’re weird. Now, that slut was into some kinky shit.”

It was an accident, officer, Loving mentally rehearsed. The gun just went off…

So tempting. But he was in enough trouble already.

“Bee… Bee…”

Loving’s eyes went wide. Amber was trying to speak. Blood caked her teeth and dripped from the corner of her mouth, but she was trying to speak.

“Cir… cle…”

Loving leaned in closer. “Circle? Sir Cool? What do you mean?”

“Circle… Thirteen…”

Amber’s eyes closed, and Loving knew they weren’t going to get any more out of her tonight.

“Amber!” Daily shouted. “Amber!”

Downstairs, Loving heard medics rush into the club. He ran to the top of the stairs to show them the way. “Up here! Hurry!”

The prosecution’s next witness was Shawn MacReady, the Republican representative from Arkansas whom Ben had met briefly in the Senate Dining Room. Padolino spent a fair amount of time discussing the congressman’s long and distinguished career, his personal triumphs, bills he’d written or sponsored that had populist appeal and thus might endear him to the mostly lower-middle-class jury. Ben was disappointed, though not surprised, that Padolino was also smart enough to point out that MacReady was a political opponent of Glancy’s, a member of the opposition party and an antagonist on many high-profile pieces of legislation. Better to bring it out himself than to allow Ben to do it on cross.

“Sir,” Padolino asked, “are you familiar with the Committee on Health, Education, Labor and Pensions?”

“Yes, sir. In relation to my work on the Appropriations Committee, I’ve had numerous contacts with their work and attended many of their meetings.”

“And who is the current vice chair?”

“That would be the defendant. Todd Glancy. The senator from Oklahoma. He used to be the chair, until his party lost control of the Senate.”

“That would be when Senator Waddington of Arizona shifted his party affiliation from Democrat to Republican.”

“Yes. After twenty years in politics, the man finally saw the light.” There was a mild titter of laughter in the courtroom.

“On September 26, the day that Veronica Cooper was murdered, was this committee in session?”

“It was.”

“For how long?”

“We started at nine and worked straight through to lunchtime. Congressmen get very grumpy if we cut into their lunchtime.” Another round of laughter. MacReady was displaying the charisma that had undoubtedly gotten him reelected so many times. His slight Tex-Arky accent made his quips all the funnier.

“And did Senator Glancy attend the committee meeting?”

“He did. The committee record shows he was present.”

“Was he there the whole time?”