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against my client. He’s a registered sex offender. You can’t get around that.”
    “Mr. Kelly, we don’t know what your—our—client was really doing in the woods. The girls saw him kneeling over the body, but the police found him a quarter mile from the crime scene. Despite his prints on the bat, as far as I know, no one actually saw him kill the girl. And he can’t tell us, one way or the other.” Georgia looked at her hands. “There are a lot of questions that haven’t been answered. Where the bat came from, for instance. His sister insists it wasn’t his.”
    “I don’t know,” Kelly said doubtfully. “I still think pleading him out is our best shot.”
    Georgia bit her lip. She was close, she could feel it. She couldn’t let it slip through her fingers. She dealt her last card. “Look. I used to be on the force up there, and, like I said, someone I respect—who’s still on the force—thinks we should take a closer look.”
    “You were a cop?”
    She nodded. “But apparently, no one is—looking into it, I mean. At least not seriously. Which begs the question, why not? Is it possible this Ramsey’s daughter was involved in the hazing? Or another VIP’s kid? Or is it something entirely different that we don’t know yet? We need to find out, but I need time. You’re his lawyer. Can you get me some?”
    Kelly drummed his fingers on the desk. The smell of exhaust from a passing bus drifted through the window. Georgia looked out. The bus disgorged a bunch of school kids, who jostled each other and laughed. She turned back to Kelly. She wondered what Ruth Jordan’s parish priest had said to strong-arm Kelly into taking the case.
    As if he had read her mind, he sighed. “Father Carroll and I grew up together on the West Side. He begged me to take the case. Told me Ruth Jordan was a decent soul who was carrying a hideous burden. It was the Christian thing to do, he told me.” Kelly laughed. “If I had a dollar for all the Christian things I’ve done, I could buy my ticket to heaven.” He folded his hands on his desk. “I’ll be honest. I’m not optimistic. Like I said, I’ve never seen a case fly through the courts this fast. Not even Gacy. These people mean business. You need to be prepared for that.”
    “But what if he didn’t do it?”
    “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
    Georgia just looked at him.
    He scratched his head. “But since you’re determined to play Joan of Arc... I have to examine the forensic evidence. That will take time.” He dropped his hand. His scratching had left two whitish streaks on his shiny head.
    “How much?”
    “Maybe a week or so.”
    “That’s not enough.”
    “And then there’s the BCX.” He sounded aggrieved that she’d interrupted him.
    “BCX? That’s some kind of shrink report, isn’t it?”
    “Behavioral Clinical Exam. A psychological exam that’s supposed to determine whether the defendant understands the charges against him, if he’s able to cooperate in his defense, and if he was sane at the time of the crime.”
    “You already know he’s not. Why do you need a test?”
    “It’ll buy us more time.”
    Us , Georgia thought. He said us . “How much?”
    Again he tipped his head to the side. “If somebody decides to railroad it, which we can’t discount, given what’s already gone down, maybe a couple of weeks. Then again, you’re dealing with bureaucrats and shrinks who couldn’t turn on a dime if their lives depended on it. It could take a month. Maybe longer.”
    That’s better , Georgia thought.
    “And...” The hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Depending on what the report says, I might have to ask for a second opinion. From a private shrink. Which could give us another month.”
    This time she returned the smile. “So when can you request this BCX?”
    A twinkle came into his eyes. “I already did. At the arraignment.”
    Georgia’s mouth opened.
    Kelly gave her a lopsided but genuine grin.
    “Smooth,