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from a machine gun.
    Seven million, cash, gambling only.
    Twenty-nine million if you count the trades.
    The gravy though, only two million five.
    What the heck is he doing?
    â€œCash? Less cash actually. That was my total income.”
    â€œHave you ever had the opportunity to steal, Mr. Sacks?”
    He stared the man down and let the answers flow.
    I make my living stealing. If they only knew how much I skimmed . . .
    â€œSure.”
    â€œAnd have you ever stolen from your employer?”
    Of course. Everyone steals.
    Billy pushed on before the man could answer. “Let me rephrase the question. How much did you steal from your employer?”
    Which time? Half a mil. What are you doing? The man’s right cheek twitched.
    Billy rescued him. “I realize this line of questioning seems strange. I mean, I’m your attorney, right? I have no business even bringing up the possibility that you might steal money from your employer. But I do because I know what you know, Mr. Sacks. That you wouldn’t dare steal from your employer. Isn’t that right?”
    â€œObjection, leading the witness.”
    None of what Billy was saying could mean anything, and that was part of the point. He had to get Sacks off his center quickly, before the judge stepped in.
    Billy held up his hand to accept the objection.“My point is, Mr. Sacks is a family man who has his daughters’well-being on his mind. Even if he did steal a dime here or a dime there, he wouldn’t dare confess it here, in court, any more than he would tell us where he put that dime. Or if he still had that dime.”He paused. “Or how to get to that dime. The account numbers . . .” Another pause. “The PIN numbers . . .”
    Billy let the numbers flow into his mind.
    â€œ. . . all of it buried in his mind. It’ll go with him to his grave.”
    â€œCounselor! ”Now the judge was beyond herself. “Approach the bench.”
    â€œI’m coming in for a landing, Your Honor. I promise, I have a point. Please don’t stop this midstream.”
    Billy took the courtroom’s absolute silence as an invitation to proceed, and he did so quickly, spinning to the jury.
    â€œMy point is this: every one of you on the jury has stolen at some point in your lives. Cheated your employer, misreported to the IRS, lied to your husband—”
    â€œObjection! The jury is not on trial here. Your Honor?” the DA squealed, face red.
    Billy continued. The jurists looked at him, and he threw their answers back at them without using names.
    â€œA hundred dollars from the teacher’s lunch fund, fifty thousand in charity donations you never made, your secretary, Barbara, Pete, Joe, Susan. Those tips are income, all twenty thousand of them. Those SAT scores that got you into Harvard . . .”
    Their eyes widened ever so slightly as he named their sins.
    â€œIf you’ve done that and yet refuse to confess, can you really blame my client for doing the same as you?”
    â€œCounselor, this is enough !” The judge slammed her gavel down.
    Time for an exit. His argument was convoluted. Butchered. Meaningless.
    But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the numbers that already ran circles in his head.
    Anthony Sacks’s numbers were his only means of salvation now.
    Billy raised his voice and made his final impassioned plea. “Just because a man is a liar and a cheat doesn’t mean he’s a murderer. You may not like Anthony Sacks any more than I do, but don’t hold his lying against him—you’re as guilty as he.”
    He faced the courtroom and spread his hands. “We all are. No more questions.”

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    CHAPTER FOUR
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    THERE WAS a God after all,Darcy thought, pouring boiling water over a mint tea bag. Then she immediately pushed the thought from her mind.
    At the very least it was a good day to be alive. She dropped in two cubes of sugar, stirred the tea