The Second Mouse - Archer Mayor [100]
He let a small pause elapse before admitting, “Because Ellis is really jammed up, just when everybody wishes he wasn’t.”
“Everybody?”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “The people who count most—Doris, you. Me, for that matter, since I’m the one who could help.”
“How?”
“You ever hear of officer discretion?”
“No.”
“It’s like when you get pulled over for speeding. You don’t always get a ticket, right? In fact, you’ve probably played that game a little—being nice to the cop, calling him ‘sir,’ trying to make a good impression?”
She flushed slightly.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I do the same thing when I get stopped. ’Cause it works sometimes. You get off with a warning. That’s officer discretion. Law enforcement is built in large part on the trust that each officer will know to do the right thing, and that sometimes the right thing is to give good people another chance.”
“You could do that for Ellis?”
“Within reason, I can do that for anyone,” Joe said, sidestepping the question. “It gets trickier if some serious crime has been committed, but even then, after the state’s attorney gets involved, we work as a team to the same end.”
Nancy still wasn’t completely buying it. “What about all that accessory stuff? If you know about a murder, it’s the same as if you did it.”
Joe held up a finger, like a helpful teacher. “I know what you’re saying. Actually, you’re a little off—it wouldn’t be the same for simply knowing, not necessarily, but the idea is close. And it gets back to my point exactly: The same discretion I was talking about cuts both ways. If people try to mess with us, we sometimes mess with them right back—sad to say when they might’ve gotten off lighter by just cooperating.”
“Doesn’t sound very fair.”
“It is if you look at it the other way around,” he said, his expression cheerful. “Try this: You play ball with us; we play ball with you. Best of all in this case: Ellis gets the benefit.”
Nancy pursed her lips, considering her options. It was confusing, but she could sense that somewhere in all this, there might actually be some truth. She just couldn’t be sure of it amid her conflicting prejudices.
“I don’t think I have anything to say.”
It didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest. He leaned back in his chair comfortably and made an expansive gesture with his arm. “Oh, sure you do. Maybe it’s a little hard to see right now, feeling hog-tied the way you are.”
She felt an odd tingle along the back of her neck, hearing him address out loud the very thoughts she’d just been having.
“Take, for instance,” he continued, “the thing about the stolen bag from the hospital.”
She stared at him with her mouth half open. “How did you know about that?”
“Where is that, by the way?” he asked suddenly. “Is it still . . . ?” He snapped his fingers as if trying to extract a memory.
“In his car,” she said softly.
“Right. Never did anything with it, did he?”
“No,” she admitted. “I thought he planted it like we planned. I couldn’t figure out why nothing happened. He told me later it was still in the trunk.”
“Well,” Joe said offhandedly, not only pleased with the conversation so far but amazed by his luck in getting the location of that bag so easily. Such a creaky old trick. “It doesn’t really matter—that stuff had the half-life of a fruit fly.”
“I guess,” she said vaguely. He guessed that radioactivity wasn’t her strong suit.
“Still,” he carried on, “so much for plan A, eh?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “It didn’t have much going for it anyhow.”
He almost looked like he disagreed. “Which part do you mean?”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “It wasn’t like Mel and that terrorist guy were exactly the same. You know? The one who got locked up all those years without a trial?”
“Right,” Joe said confidently, stretching his brain to fill in the blanks. “Maybe turning Mel into a terrorist bomber was a little thin.”
Nancy just stared at the floor.
“But you had to do something, right?” Joe prompted her, worried he might have miscalculated. “It’s not like you could leave