Arlene squinted at him through the cigarette smoke. She knew Kurtz almost never made movie jokes or references, and never Godfather jokes. "Joe," she said softly, "I don't mean to meddle, but I don't think that Angelina Farino has ever had your best interests at heart."
Kurtz had to smile at that. "There's the Civic Center garage," he said. "Do you have an idea how we're going to get in?"
"Did you get any sleep this afternoon?" She pulled up to the curb and parked.
"Some." He'd dozed for about an hour before his headache woke him.
"I brought some Percocet." She rattled
the prescription bottle.
Kurtz didn't ask or want to know why she was carrying Percocet. "I took a couple of aspirin," he said, waving away the bottle. "I'm still curious about how we're going to get in. The place is closed up pretty tight at night. Even the parking garage has that metal-mesh screen that has to be raised from the inside."
Arlene held up her big, briefcase-sized purse as if that explained everything. "We're going in through the front door and the metal detectors. If you're carrying a gun, leave it out here."
"Help you?" grunted the guard by the metal detectors. One of the front doors had been unlocked, but it led only into this large foyer.
Arlene stepped closer and removed official ID and an official-looking letter on city stationery and handed them to the guard. Kurtz stood back from the overhead lights, keeping his face in shadow and the bandaged side of his head turned away.
"D.A.'s office?" said the guard after he'd read the paper with his lips moving only slightly. "What do you want tonight? Everything's closed. Everyone's gone home."
"You read it," said Arlene. "The D.A. himself has a nine A.M. hearing in front of Judge Garman, of all people, and half the paperwork on this parolee hasn't been sent over."
"Well, Miz uh Johnson I shouldn't really"
"This has to be done quickly , Officer Jefferson. The D.A.'s tired of the incompetence here. If he's embarrassed tomorrow by not getting these files tonight " Arlene had taken out her cell phone and flipped it open.
"Okay, okay," said Officer Jefferson. "Give me your bag and go through the detectors."
Kurtz went through first and stepped back into the relative shadows. Jefferson was holding a heavy portable diskdrive with dongles hanging out and looking dubious.
"That's a portable hard drive," said Arlene, barely restraining a sigh and eye roll. "You don't think we're going to copy these files by hand , do you?"
Jefferson shook his head, set the memory drive back, and lifted out a black rectangular box about twelve inches long with slots in it and an attached cord.
"That's my portable copier for files that do have to be copied by hand," said Arlene, glancing at her watch. "The District Attorney needs these files no later than ten-thirty, Mr. Jefferson. He hates staying up late."
Jefferson zipped up her giant purse and handed it back to her. "I didn't get a call about this, Miz Johnson."
Arlene smiled. "Officer, this is the D.A.'s office . Have you dealt with us before? The District Attorney is a wonderful man, but he's lucky to remember to zip up his fly."
"Ms. Feldman's on bereavement leave this week," said the officer.
"We know," said Arlene. "But the district attorney still needs her files."
Jefferson smiled. "Yeah." He glanced at Kurtz. "I should show you the way up to Ms. Feldman's parole office, but it'll be a couple of minutes. Leroy's still making his rounds."
Arlene held up a silver key. "Carol's sister gave us her key. This will just take a few minutes." She handed the heavy bag to Kurtz. "Here, Thomas, carry this."
Kurtz followed dutifully as she clacked her way across the lobby and summoned an elevator. Jefferson gave a half-salute as they stepped in.
"This will be on security video," said Kurtz as the doors closed.
Arlene shrugged. "No crime, no need to check the security videos."
"I presume that Ms. Feldman's office is near O'Toole's."
"A few doors away."
"Someday the D.A. will trace all this fun back to his predecessor's former executive secretary," said Kurtz.
"Not in this lifetime," said Arlene.
In another, less obvious pocket of Arlene's bag was the breaking and entering tool kit that Kurtz had always used for black bag jobs. He opened Feldman's office door first, turned on the lights, and then locked it behind them. There were three strands of yellow crime scene tape across O'Toole's doorway, but the door opened inward and they could step through. Kurtz took fifteen seconds to jimmy this lock as well.
They lowered the Venetian blinds, took out a pocket-sized low-light, no-flash infrared digital camera and took four photos so they could set everything back exactly the way it was. Then they clicked on halogen penlights. Both had pulled on gloves. Peg O'Toole's computer was still there on the desk extension. Arlene found a power outlet for the backup drive, ran a USB cord to O'Toole's computer, fired up the parole officer's machine and her own, and whispered that they were set to go.