Free Adjourned by Lee Goldberg

agreed in a praising tone. "For your father."
    The fear, like a cloud that had obscured the sun, floated away and she felt warm again. Surprising Dad would be fun! The stranger's eyes didn't look so bad now. Instead of Mr. Dark, he was beginning to look like Rick Springfield, though she had never seen Rick dressed like this, with a big scarf and overcoat.
    "You have a van just like my uncle's," she said. He reached past her and opened the van's passenger door.
    "He helped me pick it out." Tice smiled. She climbed in, and he closed the door behind her.
    # # # # # #
    Shaw stood very still in the center of Macklin's living room, holding a magnifying glass over his eye with one hand and a strip of movie film up to the light with the other.
    "It's Orlock," Shaw whispered.
    Macklin barely heard him. "What did you say?"
    "In the background, behind the girl." Shaw lowered his arms and faced Macklin. "Crocker Orlock is standing there."
    "Great." Macklin clapped Shaw on the back. "Nail the son of a bitch, then give me a few seconds alone with him and I'll find out who killed Cheshire."
    "Hold on, Mack." Shaw held the film out to Macklin. "We can't get him yet."
    "Why the hell not?" Macklin shouted into Shaw's face. "What more do you need? It's all there on the film. For God's sake, Ronny, you've got Orlock with a kidnapped girl who turned up dead."
    Shaw tossed the magnifying glass on the couch and ran his hand through his hair. "Mack, this film is virtually useless. It doesn't prove a thing."
    "Ronny, are you out of your mind? What's the matter with you?" Macklin yanked the film from Shaw's hand and waved it in front of the detective's face. "Look at this closely. It links Orlock with everything. Murder. Kiddie porn. Do I have to gift wrap him and drop him off at police headquarters for you?"
    Shaw jabbed the film with his index finger. "You're gonna have to do better than that. It won't stand up in court. For starters, it's illegally obtained evidence—"
    "So say it was given to you by an anonymous Good Samaritan," Macklin interrupted impatiently, a scowl of frustration on his face.
    "Number two," Shaw continued, ignoring Macklin's remark, "we can't positively identify Orlock. The more we blow it up, the blurrier it will get. His attorney can talk a jury out of this with ease."
    "You know it's Orlock! You recognized him!" Macklin yelled.
    "Yeah, so what! Grow up, Mack. Truth can be disproved by a good lawyer living off a fat retainer." Shaw sighed. "Thirdly, even if we can convince the jury it's Orlock, we can't prove he kidnapped her. Look, what the film does prove is that Crocker is dirty."
    "You knew that already, Ronny."
    "But now I know that."
    Macklin fell back wearily against the wall and slid down into a sitting position on the floor facing Shaw, who stood in front of the fireplace. "Okay, did you get anything from the list of plates I gave you?"
    "Yeah, that paid off. The warehouse is owned by Orlock through a maze of dummy companies and leased to Saputo by an independent, legitimate rental agency. The van also belongs to Orlock, as does the Seville you saw Saputo driving."
    Macklin looked up at Shaw and spoke very carefully. "I think it's time Mr. Jury takes care of it."
    "Really?" Shaw smirked. "Remember your grandiose speech about due process?"
    Macklin nodded.
    "Does it still hold, or do you run out of here now, guns blazing?"
    Macklin stared silently at Shaw for a full minute. "It still holds."
    "Good." Shaw pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket and tossed it into Macklin's lap. "He's expecting you."
    Shaw went to the front door and walked out.
    Macklin glanced at the crumpled paper in his lap and picked it up. He unfolded it slowly and read it twice.
    Harlan Fitz. 555-9182.
    # # # # # #
    Whenever life got complicated, Harlan Fitz sought refuge in the Greasy Spoon, where club sandwiches start at $6.50 and chocolate ice cream is white.
    The bookcase-lined walls made him feel like he was back in his judge's