The Triggerman Dance

"The original movie soundtrack."

"Well, it certainly did at one point. What happened to it would be purely speculation right now. I'd also speculate why the filmmaker would let the images remain for posterity, so to speak, but erase the audio."

Joshua nodded, but didn't look at Kenwick. There would be no looking into this gift horse's mouth, either, until Wayfarer's carcass was deep in Federal lockup.

He stood. "Thanks, Wick."

"Good luck, Joshua."

Frazee greeted them at the door of the Bureau conference room. He seemed even smaller than the last time Joshua had seen him, though Joshua could not imagine why. He wore his eternal blue suit and his usual open-faced, boyish expression. He stood aside to let them in, then appeared seated on the other side of the conference table without seeming to have actually walked there, as only a small man can do. Down the table sat Norton, red-faced and inflated as always, as if he had just gotten off the canvas after a knockdown.

Frazee cleared his throat and leaned forward, which made Joshua wonder, as always, whether or not Walker's feet were touching the floor. Joshua was amazed that he could wonder such a thing while the climax of his operation was being planned. Frazee's eyes looked dead now, not a glimmer in them Joshua could not remember anything so akin to sympathy on the little man's face. His stomach dropped.

"The warrant petition has been denied," Frazee said.

Joshua felt the earth shift underneath him and was hit by a sudden decompression he could not fight. His spirit seemed to pour out from his heart, right onto the floor. He felt a darkness closing in and the walls sliding in to surround him. His own voice, when he finally found it, embarrassed him.

" Why? he bleated.

"Chain of custody weak. That's Owl, unsworn and unaffiliated. Partial evidence—that's the tape with no sound on it. The fear is 'appearance of impropriety.' I quote the magistrate verbatim now. It's become a given that law enforcement tampers with evidence. We can thank the Los Angeles Police Department for that."

Joshua sat back, allowing the rancorous anger to build in side him. He took off his glasses, rubbed the dark divots on either side of his nose, and looked at his compatriots through the haze of his 20/80 uncorrected vision. He could feel his eyes getting little misty, so he slipped the glasses back on.

"Can we try another -----

"—Already did," said Frazee. "He sided with the first finding. It's the atmosphere of the times, Joshua. You can't change it."

He looked at Sharon, who had actually gone a little pale. " can't abide by it, either, sir."

"This hurts me, too. I'm left with no other choice than t turn the whole thing over to ATF, as we discussed. Liberty Ridge is a cold potato now. Let them have it. We'll move on to more productive fields. Perhaps they can glean something from Owl that—"

"Let them run my mole?"

"Well, if they take over the op, they get the baby and the bath water."

Joshua felt his anger boil over now, this cascade of rage behind his eyes and mouth, burning through his skin. He got up slowly from his chair, pulled it out from the table and kicked so hard it shot back on its rollers to the wall and flipped over. Frazee's face seemed to behold him from the far end of a Iong tunnel.

"I've got three more days. They were promised by you, Walker. They were promised by the Attorney General. They are mine and I own them and I intend to use them to take down Holt. At the end of that time, if I don't have solid enough evidence to arrest him, you can turn Owl over to the Bat Boys and reassign me to El Paso, Texas. But until then, I have an operation here and I am going to finish it."

"Sit down, Weinstein."

Josh pulled out the next available chair, and sat.

"You have your three days, as promised. Today is Friday. Monday morning, we'll joint-task this over to ATF. Joshua, all I can say is I'm sorry. You gave it a good run."

Then Frazee rose to his feet—or slid down to let them reach the floor—and the meeting was over.

Josh looked at his cohorts as they made their way from the conference room, realizing that he was about to finish the longest, most bitter journey of his young life. How it would end was anyone's guess.