Free The Last Word by Lee Goldberg Page A

front of Burnside’s desk, waiting for his own head to be handed to him by the DA; for what offense, he didn’t know. He doubted that Burnside had called him down to his office for praise, promotion, or a fervent appeal for his vote.
    Burnside took his time reviewing some document on his desk before finally, reluctantly, acknowledging Steve’s presence.
    “Carter Sweeney’s habeas corpus plea is being heard in court soon,” he said. “Are you aware of that, Detective?”
    “No, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over it,” Steve said. “Are you?”
    Burnside didn’t appreciate having his question turned back in his direction, which was, of course, exactly why Steve did it.
    “The hearing happens to fall within days of the election,” Burnside said. “Interesting timing, don’t you think?”
    “I wouldn’t expect anything less of Carter Sweeney,” Steve replied. “Would you?”
    The questions were being volleyed back and forth like a tennis ball. Burnside’s face reddened. He wasn’t going to be put on the spot in his own office.
    “This isn’t simply his last appeal for freedom. It’s a strategic political move designed to influence the outcome of the mayoral race,” Burnside said. “I want to know whose campaign Sweeney is hoping to derail with this stunt.”
    Steve admired the way Burnside couched his latest question as a statement.
    “Ask Carter Sweeney,” Steve said.
    “I’d rather ask your father,” Burnside said.
    “Sweeney blew up Community General Hospital with Dad and me in it,” Steve said. “Ever since that little tiff, they haven’t really stayed in touch.”
    “Oh really?” Burnside pushed a photo across the desk to Steve. “Your father visited Carter Sweeney a few days ago.”
    The photo was lifted from a prison surveillance camera video, and it showed Mark sitting across from Sweeney in the visiting room.
    Steve was shocked. If he hadn’t seen the photo, he never would have believed it.
    Why was his father meeting with Sweeney? Why did Mark keep it secret from him?
    “What did they talk about?” Burnside demanded.
    “I have no idea.” Steve passed the photo back to Burnside. “This is the first I’ve heard about this.”
    “I don’t believe you,” Burnside said.
    “I don’t care,” Steve said.
    “If your father thinks he can use Carter Sweeney’s pathetic bid for freedom to smear me or my campaign, he is sorely mistaken.”
    “My father put Carter Sweeney in prison. He has no interest in seeing him freed,” Steve said. “Not that there’s any chance of that happening. Is there?”
    “Of course not,” Burnside said, “The case against him is rock solid and has withstood every one of his insipid attempts to overturn his conviction.”
    “Then I don’t see what you’re so worried about.”
    “This,” Burnside said, and slammed his fist down on the photograph. “So far, the press doesn’t know anything about Sweeney’s habeas corpus hearing. They will. But when it comes out, and how it comes out, will determine whether it’s a front-page story or a one-paragraph filler buried in the back pages.”
    “I don’t know what they were talking about, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with this election. My father isn’t interested in politics.”
    Steve resented Mark for putting him in this position. Had Mark really thought he could talk to Carter Sweeney without anyone finding out about it?
    Burnside studied Steve for a long moment. “Is this some stunt that Chief Masters has cooked up? Is he using your father as his go-between? Because if he is, he’s going to look pretty damn stupid getting in bed with a serial killer just to smear me.”
    Steve sighed. “My father doesn’t like the chief any better than he likes you. When the chief finds out about this prison chat, I wouldn’t be surprised if he accuses my father of working behind the scenes on your behalf.”
    “What possible reason would your father have for aligning himself with