“One and done, Mercer,” Mike said. “Let her have one.”
Mercer walked toward the bar in my den. I heard the ice drop into a glass.
“He was a marked man,” Vickee said. “He had a giant target painted on his forehead, once George Kwan knew Battaglia had figured out his game.”
“Vickee’s right,” Mercer said. “It was just a question of when.”
“But why on my time?” I said. “Why did I have to be the deadfall?”
Mercer handed me the glass filled with Dewar’s—a more modest pour than I’d been hammering myself with lately.
“There’s no answer to that, Coop. You know that,” Mike said.
Vickee was putting on her leather jacket.
“How are you getting home?” I asked.
“The commissioner gave me a driver. Scully’s with you on this, Alex,” she said. “Sleep in, if you can.”
“I bet he’ll be doing a presser as soon as they confirm Pedro Echevarria as the shooter,” I said. “That, and linking Pedro to George Kwan, the global mastermind behind the murder.”
“Too much drama,” Mike said, clinking his glass against mine. “It’s too late for that. You’ve got to power down.”
“Scully doesn’t need Alex with him for the press conference, does he?” Mercer asked Vickee, as she leaned over to give me a hug.
“Tomorrow’s your day off,” Vickee said to me. “You and Mike just need to chill. This week you’re safe at home. No doubt the paparazzi will have you surrounded.”
“I like the sound of ‘safe at home,’” I said.
“It’s Tuesday the commissioner wants you with him,” Vickee said, kissing Mercer good night before she went to my front door.
“The debrief,” I said. “I understand. I’m ready for it this time.”
The Scotch tasted really fine.
“No worries about the debrief,” Vickee said. “Scully wants to do a sit-down—just you and the editorial board reps of the newspapers.”
“That’s not happening,” I said. “He can answer all the questions himself. Mike can fill him in.”
“Switch gears for a minute.” Vickee’s eyes flashed to Mercer and Mike before she spoke to me. “The big question the reporters all have is whether you’re throwing your hat in the ring.”
“My hat?” I said, laughing. “What ring would that be?”
“The commissioner’s already announced you’re his candidate, Coop,” Mike said. “The newsmen all want to know if you plan to run in the special election to be the next Manhattan DA.”
“I’ll need a second drink. I feel it coming,” I said, taking another slug of my first one. “You’ve got to back them off.”
“Get ready,” Vickee said. “The race is on.”
“I’m barely out of the woods,” I said. “Literally and figuratively. All I want is my job back.”
“Sleep on it,” Vickee said. “There’s an opening at the top.”
“Can we go to the Vineyard tomorrow, Mike? Can we get away for a week or two?”
“You bet, kid. We can do anything you want.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The spectacular Bronx Zoo—two hundred sixty-five acres of wilderness in an outer borough of New York City, conceived of more than a century ago—was a twenty-minute ride from my childhood home. I could think of no better way to spend a sunny day than to ride with family and friends down the Bronx River Parkway to learn about all the animals. It seemed cruel, even then, to see all the magnificent creatures penned in behind bars. But I was sure at that time that I’d have no other opportunity in my life to encounter an Indian elephant or a Siberian tiger, so I was grateful to have this menagerie so close to my own backyard.
Thanks to wonderful organizations like the Wildlife Conservation Society, people worldwide have been educated about better habitats for the animals that have been taken into captivity. The Bronx Zoo—still one of the most magical places on the planet—has been redesigned, like most other humane zoological parks, and the animals seem to enjoy a much better life than they did in my youth. The WCS is dedicated to saving wildlife in wild places, using science and education to fight to preserve our most beloved species facing extinction everywhere on earth.
I owe tremendous thanks to the men and women who do this work on a daily basis, making the world a much better place—and a more beautiful one. I was introduced to the WCS by my dear friends—who do so many good things for other people—Rick and Candace Beinecke. At WCS, Win Trainor became my teacher and guide, and his thoughtful reintroduction to the zoo and all its denizens was made richer by the company of Cindy Maur and Maddie Thompson. They really do talk to the animals.
My reading began with William Bridges’ Gathering of Animals—a very entertaining and unconventional history of the New York Zoological Society. The New York Times has published fascinating articles about every aspect of animal conservation, and I leaned on its writers for a lot of my research. I owe gratitude to John Branch for his riveting piece, “The Ultimate Pursuit in Hunting,” Dan Levin for his column on the ingredients in traditional Chinese medicine, Karl Meyer’s Op-Ed on the Opium War, and so many others who provided such intelligent background about the dangers facing wildlife all over the world. Alexandra Fisher wrote about Africa’s heroin highway for The Daily Beast; almost every responsible newspaper and magazine has covered the tragedy of elephants slaughtered for their ivory; and a single lecture by Susan Lieberman—vice president for WCS’s International Policy—brought this issue to life for me with brilliant clarity.
I owe much of my understanding of the precarious world of endangered species to my beloved friend the late Howard Gilman, on whose White Oak Conservation Center board I have been privileged to serve.
As always, I thank my heroes—the women and men of the NYPD from whom I learned everything I needed to do my job with pride and dignity, and my colleagues at the New York County District Attorney’s Office, and their great leader, Cyrus Vance, who do justice every day of the year.
I’m so fortunate to be published by Dutton. Stephanie Kelly has taken over the duty of editing my work, and that is a blessing and a joy. Christine Ball is top dog now, and that’s pretty cool, too. Ben Sevier helped mold Coop and Chapman before moving on, and I wish him well. I’ve got Emily Brock, Carrie Swetonic, John Parsley, Elina Vaysbeyn, Andrea Monagle, and a battery of great players on my team. Thanks, too, to the folks at Little, Brown UK who take me around the world.
Laura Rossi Totten is the guardian angel of my social media world, and her creativity and reach stagger me.
Esther Newberg at ICM started me off in this world of books, libraries, bookstores, and writers, and she’s as good as it gets. Zoe Sandler is at Esther’s side at ICM, and she’s great, too.
I am so fortunate to have the family and friends I do—I will lift a glass with them and to them anytime.
To Justin Feldman, Bobbie and Bones Fairstein, and Karen Cooper—you’re each with me every step of the way.
And I’ve got Michael Goldberg, who is my heart, and my most loving critic, waiting to read pages at the end of every day. Life doesn’t get much better than that.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Fairstein was chief of the Sex Crimes Unit of the district attorney’s office in Manhattan for more than two decades and is America’s foremost legal expert on sexual assault and domestic violence. She is a regular contributor on criminal justice issues to magazines, journals, and online publications including The Daily Beast, and she does on-air commentary for all the major television network and cable news shows. Her Alexandra Cooper novels are international and New York Times bestsellers and have been translated into more than a dozen languages. She lives in Manhattan and on Martha’s Vineyard.
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