“Straight to Psychic Readings by Alisha,” Tamara said. “You drove Mrs. Inman there, went to the Twilight meeting and then back afterward to pick her up. Got together with her to decide whether or not to invest in the O.S. Fund. Right?”
Mantle didn’t answer. He seemed to be thinking on something else. He said, “How did you—,” and then stopped, and moved for the first time since he’d sat down: his hands unlocked and he spread them out flat on the desktop. “Stewart,” he said then. “Deron Stewart.”
Her turn to be silent.
“He’s another one like you,” the judge said flatly. “A paid snoop.”
“Operative.” No reason not to admit it. There wasn’t any need now for Stewart to keep working undercover. “That’s right; he is.”
“Why? Why the deception?”
“To find Antoine Delman.”
“And what other purpose?”
“No other purpose.”
“I don’t believe you. You know what Stewart knows.”
Be straight with the man, she thought. Always the best way to go, and besides, it’d give her a certain amount of leverage. “About the club. Yes.”
“The club,” he said in that talking-about-the-weather tone again. “Tell me how you found out about it.”
“I knew Delman was on the down low, never mind how.”
“I don’t like that term.”
“Okay, then I won’t use it again.”
“How many people have you told about the club?”
“None except Stewart. And I guarantee he won’t repeat it.”
Another long silence. Then, “Do you realize how serious a crime blackmail is, Ms. Corbin?”
“Blackmail? That what you think I’m here for?”
“Well?”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” Tamara said. “My agency has one of the best reps in the city.”
Silence.
“I don’t care what you do in private, Judge. Or what any consenting adults do in private. None of my business. Believe it.”
“Why are you here, then?”
“To save you and Mrs. Inman and Doctor Easy and anybody else who’s thinking of investing in Operation Save from being ripped off. Call it my Operation Save.”
“Very noble of you.”
“I’m not trying to be noble. Like I said before—”
“As I said before.”
She almost smiled. Correcting her grammar in the middle of a conversation like this. Judge Mantle was some piece of work.
“As I said before, I’m trying to put Antoine Delman and his mother behind bars where they belong.”
Another silence, a short one this time. “Do you have proof they’re who and what you claim?”
“Enough to be sure I’m right about them and Operation Save.”
“Then why haven’t you gone to the police? Or have you?”
“Not yet. The one thing I don’t know for sure is whether or not any money has changed hands. The Delmans’ scam doesn’t become a felony until that happens.”
“You don’t need to explain the law to me, Ms. Corbin.”
“Has any money changed hands, far as you know?”
Mantle said carefully, “It’s my understanding that some investments in the charity have been made.”
“By anyone you know personally?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Doctor Easy?”
“Yes.”
“How much were you planning to invest?”
The look. She thought he was going to stonewall the question, but he didn’t. He said, “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”
“Mrs. Inman?”
“The same.”
“Doctor Easy?”
“Thirty thousand.”
“Cash?”
“There was never any mention of cash.”
“Doesn’t need to be on this kind of scam. Cashier’s checks are just as good. Even personal checks, if they’re guaranteed to clear right away.”
Silence.
“Delman been pressuring you and Mrs. Inman to invest?”
“Not exactly.”
Uh-huh. The soft sell, while Alisha worked on her. “Delman steered you to Alisha when he found out Mrs. Inman was into psychics, right?”
“He gave me her name, yes.”
“And you’ve been waiting for Mrs. Inman to make up her mind. If she decides to go ahead, so do you.”
“Yes.”
“You believe in psychics, too, Judge?”
Silence.
“Has Mrs. Inman made up her mind?”
“Yes.”
“Going ahead?”
“Yes.”
“When? How soon?”
“Next Monday. At her home.”
“So there’s plenty of time for the SFPD to set up a sting. All we have to do—”