Free The Last Hand by Eric Wight

Hang on. What’ll I tell Salter? I’ve just finished explaining to him why he should take it easy.”
    â€œTell him the whole thing, exactly what his real assignment is, taking the heat off Marinelli–he’ll know that, anyway. He’ll be happy to have something to do. It’s not as if he could screw up his career at this point, is it?”
    â€œThat’s it. He’s the only one around here with nothing to lose. Shall I tell him that?”

    â€œI think he probably knows it. Don’t make a big deal of it.” Orliff stood up. “Gregson’s going to a lot of trouble over Flora Lucas, isn’t he? You ever notice that when you have a politician who is completely honest and public-spirited, the way they are supposed to be, everyone talks about their honesty and unselfishness, like it’s a miracle. Now you can hear people’s voices getting hushed when they mention Flora Lucas. Maybe that’s what gets Gregson. Maybe she’s his good deed. His real pro bono.”
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    The next morning, Marinelli listened carefully to Mackenzie’s suggestion. “I thought we’d just agreed to leave Salter out in the pasture.”
    â€œIt’s different now with this reporter sniffing around.”
    â€œYou think this sister will be the next attorney general?”
    â€œEverybody does. And things might get warm around here just with this goddamn reporter.”
    â€œWill you make an announcement?”
    â€œWhat about? No, shit, no. I’ll just put the word out. I won’t even mention Salter by name. A senior investigator, I’ll call him. What’ll you tell Stevenson?”
    â€œI don’t have to explain myself to Stevenson. It looks kind of sudden, though. I’ll tell them he’s the window-dressing to satisfy some politician.” Marinelli smiled. “I could kill two birds here. I’ve got a new man I haven’t teamed up with anyone yet. He needs a wise old mentor to break him in.”
    â€œThat doesn’t sound like Salter.”
    â€œHe is old, by our standards, and he’s nobody’s fool, is he?”
    â€œStill, ‘Wise old mentor’? Salter? Don’t tell him that. ”
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    Orliff’s ideas were always clear as he explained them, but the deputy chief often found that in going over Orliff. suggestions later, he could not think through the possible ramifications. He kept losing track. In this case he felt uneasy about telling Salter the whole truth about Gregson’s intercession, because Salter might ask if Marinelli knew it, and he wasn’t sure what he would say. And should he tell Marinelli that Salter had been told? Mackenzie was no Machiavelli, nor was he
meant to be. Just give Salter the direct assignment, he decided.
    â€œNow, Salter,” he said when he found him. “Don’t go behind my orders, all right? I’m assigning you to Marinelli to help out with the Lucas case. All right? Don’t get into it with Marinelli.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about, sir?” Salter asked, genuinely mystified.
    â€œNever mind. Just report to Marinelli. Take it from there.”
    He’s up to something, Salter thought, but what do I care? I’ve got the job. He said, “I could start this afternoon.”
    â€œDo that.” Mackenzie nodded. “Give me anything else you’re working on.”
    â€œHe doesn’t mind?”
    â€œMarinelli? He looked happy to me.”
    â€œHe’s probably happy to have someone take the shit. This might be politically sensitive.”
    â€œThat’s the thing, Charlie,” agreed the deputy chief, relieved to be on easier, more truthful ground. “If it was easy, Marinelli would have done it. It may not be doable.”
    â€œThen I can’t lose, can I?”
    â€œThat’s the way to look at it. Marinelli’s waiting for you in his office.” Mackenzie considered briefly