"Evelyn, please bring in Mr. Novak's copy of the Adler statement." Novak slumped into the chair across from her without invitation. "I wanted you to see Dr. Adler before she left. As you will see in a minute, we have a decision to make, and it might help you to have her image in mind. Vampira she isn't."

"So she's a dish, all strawberries and cream. What decision?"

Evelyn appeared silently, a self-defensive habit she had formed when Novak was around. She had rattled a cup of coffee once, years ago, when he was preparing a witness in his office, and had fallen victim to the scowl that cuts through steel.

Novak had the speed reader's technique of rhythmically swirling his left forefinger down the page, three swirls to the page, a ten-second waltz, a flip of the page with his dampened right forefinger and down the next page he swirled - swirl, swirl, swirl, flip - swirl, swirl, swirl, flip. He could read a three-hundred-page novel in an hour and recall every detail months later, a talent which served him very well when dealing with daily transcripts and depositions in a lengthy trial. He disposed of Rebecca's handiwork in twelve seconds flat.

"Scroogie, you can't be serious..."

He broke in again, now on his feet. "Let's take it one step at a time. We're not on sentencing yet. Bring her in, book her and request that the bail be denied to prevent her from tossing more Arizona citizens in the ice box."

Linda stood and walked to her corner window. This time she looked to the north. The mountains against a cloudless blue Arizona sky looked like a painted backdrop. She had never visited Omega Terrace, so she wasn't sure which of the peaks it nestled under. She knew now that she would find out - soon.

She turned to Novak. "Scott, I suffer from the Von Clausewitz syndrome, you know, never take the first step without considering the last."

"That's a good principle for fighting a war, which is what old Carl was writing about. But this is not a war. We're talking about the Law - with a capital L - and we're having this friendly little discussion in a country which loudly proclaims that it is a nation of laws, not men - or women." With this Novak manipulated his scowl into a smirk under one raised eyebrow.

That damned high wire again, Perez thought. "I know. You're right, of course. I just have a hard time visualizing that beautiful young woman strapped to a gurney waiting for the pellet to drop."

"Linda, bleed for the slob in the freezer, not for the killer who put him there, no matter how young or beautiful. Leave the visions of gurneys and pellets for later. Remember, one step at a time."

She sat behind her desk again, her eyes down and her head propped in both hands. "OK, bring her in - no, I'll call them - she'll come in voluntarily. If she won't hire a lawyer, I'll get the court to appoint one. Book her. Get the prelim set. And, don't argue with me about this, Scott, don't fight reasonable bail."

Novak nodded and started out.

"Thank God for juries," Linda said, as her chief prosecutor closed the door behind him.

"Charge her!"

"Manslaughter?" Perez was hesitant. "Man Two?" The Novak scowl. Silence. "Man One?"

"Perez, this is Murder One or nothing. There's no accident here. She confesses to intent and premeditation. Conscious and willful deliberation, and she takes a living man down."

"A living man who consented and had only six months to live, if that." Another flip of the hair.

"I don't give a damn if he only had six days to live. You can't defend a murder by arguing that the victim was going to die anyway. We're all going to die. Murder is just the willful shortening of the victim's life."

"Dr. Adler and her group at Omega don't think we're all going to die. That's the whole idea behind ..."

"Their whole idea is money. During the campaign you ducked the Omega issue, but Sam Bell had those scam artists investigated. They get millions from every sucker they freeze."

"Even so," Perez argued, "Omega would get their money from the Eastman family if they waited for him to die from AIDS. Why kill him? How do they profit from what Adler calls 'pre-mortem suspension?'"

"Kill him and they close the deal. That's Rule Number One of the con man. Until the mark is dead, he can cancel. Talk him into jumping into the freezer before he dies and they can bank the money. The mark can't change his mind. Those near to him, his wife or parents or his doctor, can't talk him out of it. Just think, if you were the main beneficiary of a multi-million dollar estate and your mama was going to cut you out and give all the money to the Omega Ice Follies, you'd talk her out of it, and if you couldn't, you'd go to court and get her declared imcompetent."

"But this was not someone's senile mama. He was a scientist, who believed he was not being murdered, and she believes he is suspended, not dead."

"Linda," he broke in, "our job is to prosecute murderers. If they can prove that this poor bastard is still alive in the freezer, then they'll get the bitch off. Or if they can bring him back to life fifty or a hundred years from now, they can make a good argument to the parole board, unless she gets the death sentence I'm going to ask for."