"Today we're going to open the case of Jim Fate, the radio talk show host who was murdered yesterday. Together with the FBI, we have started the investigation. I will report on the findings as soon as they are available."
At the sound of Jim Fate's name, there were nods of recognition. Grand jurors weren't banned from watching all media, which meant they often had a passing familiarity with any headline case she brought them. Jim Fate, of course, was in a category by himself. Thanks to what had happened only the day before, even people who never listened to talk radio now knew his name. But now that the jurors knew they would be considering his death, they would try to stay away from any fresh news about it.
While a grand jury might consider dozens of cases over the course of a year, they never saw a single one through until the end. Instead, they served only to investigate various criminal cases and formally indict any suspects. In some cases, they voted not to indict. Because they weren't asked to determine guilt or innocence, only decide whether charges should be filed, the grand jury's standards were looser than those of a trial jury. A trial jury couldn't convict without believing beyond a reasonable doubt, but a grand jury could indict just on probable cause. And the grand jury didn't even need to be unanimous: only eighteen of the twenty-three needed to agree. It was an old joke among defense lawyers that it wouldn't take much effort to persuade a grand jury to indict a ham sandwich. But it was a little-known fact that prosecutors sometimes advocated for the grand jury not to indict.
"While this wasn't sarin gas," Allison told them, "it could still be terrorism. Maybe someone who wanted to stop Jim Fate from broadcasting his opinion."
"You mean opinions," said Gus, a retired hardware store owner. "That man had lots of them."
"Hmm, sounds like someone else we know," said a juror in the back. The other jurors laughed. Including Gus. Even Allison managed to crack a smile.
After opening the grand jury, Allison walked back to the FBI's Portland field office, a dozen blocks away. Her feet still ached from the day before. She wasn't hungry, but she made herself buy a gyro from a street cart. No matter how she felt, she had to think of the baby.
Everywhere were signs of the panic that had gripped Portland the day before. She saw a half-dozen lost scarves looped around street trees, an abandoned stainless-steel coffee mug set on a windowsill, misplaced hats now settled on top of parking signs. Portlanders were, in general, an honest lot. She thought about Estella, who was more important than any scarf, mug, or hat. Surely by now Child Protective Services must have reunited her with her family. Surely Estella was now cuddling with her matni, all her fears quieted. Allison wanted to call the caseworker, but she told herself that the girl was being taken care of. Estella wasn't her problem anymore. But Jim Fate was.
When Nicole came out to escort her back, Allison found herself giving her friend a hug. Even more surprisingly, Nicole unhesitatingly hugged her back.
Nicole said, "Cassidy just called. She wants the three of us to go to dinner tonight."
"Tonight?" Without even considering it, Allison shook her head. "I just want to go home. Go home and go to bed."
"Same here. But Cassidy was pretty insistent. She's already made reservations at McCormick & Schmick's Harborside. And you know--Jim Fate asked her to hook him up with us. We need to find out what she knows about the threats and who might have made them."
"Can't it wait?" Allison asked. Even as she said the words, she realized that it couldn't. They needed to know as much as possible as soon as possible about what had happened to Jim--and why. She sighed. "Well, at least we'll get to eat something rich and chocolatey."
"I hear you on that," Nicole said. As they walked back to her work space, she called Cassidy on her cell phone and agreed that they would meet at seven.
Nicole's cubicle was piled high with teetering stacks of paper, with more folders stacked on the floor. Allison picked up a heap of papers from the visitor's chair, then didn't know where to set them.
"Oh, give them here," Nicole said impatiently. She turned them at an angle and set them on an existing pile.
As she sat down, Allison said, "I have thought of one bright side to this case."
"There is one?" Nicole rubbed her eyes. "I'd like to hear it."
"Usually when we work a murder case, it's hard figuring out who would be mad enough to kill someone. We're not going to have that problem with Jim Fate."