Connie saw Jack McCoy get to his feet and head towards the back of the court. He only made it a few feet before the journalists and cameramen closed in with shouts of Mr McCoy! Mr McCoy, how does it feel ?

McCoy wasn't known for his patience with the press at the best of times, and this, Connie figured, was not the best of times. He'll blow up and tell them all where to get off and undo everything that Regan managed to do for him today.

Everything Mike let her do.

She got to her feet and raised her voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have a statement on behalf of the District Attorney's Office."

It got their attention on her and off McCoy. Connie watched McCoy push past the last of them and disappear into the crowd. Good. Except now she had to actually say something …

She opened her mouth and felt Cutter's hand on her shoulder. "I'll give the statement," he told the reporters. "The District Attorney's Office deeply regrets bringing these completely unjustified charges against EADA McCoy. The lies told by the complaining witness are an explanation, but not an excuse. I would like to congratulate Ms Regan Markham, currently on leave from her position as Assistant District Attorney, for the work she has done bringing the true facts of the case to light and preventing a miscarriage of justice. I also accept my own responsibility in pursuing this case with more zeal than judgment. And yes, you can quote me on all of that."

They had to force their way through the reporters and down the aisle, Cutter batting away further questions. The corridor was crowded as well. Connie spied the open door to a conference room and ducked inside, tugging Cutter to follow her with a hand on his arm.

He shut the door and leaned back against it.

"You didn't have to do that," she said.

He gave her the ghost of a grin. "Better my face on the evening news than yours," he said. "It was my fault, after all. You tried to tell me."

"You were …" Connie tried to be kind and honest at the same time. "Convinced."

"Was I convinced, Connie, or did I convince myself?"

"What really matters is what you did today, Mike."

He gave a little bitter laugh. "I doubt Arthur Branch will see it that way."

"Is that what really matters?"

Cutter was silent a moment, studying his toes, and then looked up, his gaze clear. "No," he said quietly. "No, that's not what really matters. Thank you, Connie. I know you won't want to work with me again, after this, but — thank you. I'm glad you were the one on this case."

"I'm glad I was, too," Connie said. "And don't be so quick to make assumptions about what I might or might not want to do. But for now, we should head back to Hogan Place."

"And Arthur," Cutter said glumly, but he stepped away from the door and reached for the handle.

Connie took his arm. "May as well get it over with, Cut-throat."

"Connie, I think it might be time for that nickname to be given a decent burial, what do you think?"

"Sure, Mike," she said. "Sure."

The corridor had cleared a little. When they reached the front door, Connie saw why: Tracey Kibre was holding a press conference on the front steps and every camera in the vicinity was riveted on her.

"I don't intend to try this case in the court of public opinion," she was saying as Connie and Cutter passed her. "But I will say that I am very confident of a conviction. It is absolutely essential to the proper function of the justice system that the public are able to have confidence in the integrity of the District Attorney's Office. Today we saw that confidence in Mr McCoy reaffirmed by the revelations in court, but I will also say that the prosecution of Mr McCoy demonstrates that we do no favors for our own. I guarantee you Ms Dyson will answer the charges against her with no special treatment."

"She's helping you out as much as she can," Connie said to Cutter as they made their way down the steps.

"Making it look like I was just doing my job," Cutter said sourly.

"Mike." Connie took his elbow and made him stop. "Just … learn from it. Do better, be better, next time."

"If I get —"

"Mr Cutter." It was Regan Markham, a couple of steps above them. She'd taken off her jacket, in deference no doubt to the warmth of the midday sun, and Connie thought she looked as if she'd shed the label lawyer along with the jacket. "I wanted to thank you."

"I did what I had to do," Cutter said, looking away.

Regan took another step down until she was looking at him eye to eye. "You and I both know that not everyone would have done it," she said, and there was an authority in her voice that didn't belong to a junior ADA who was talking to one of Narcotic's top prosecutors. "Don't sell yourself short, Mike. You did the right thing, and it wasn't an easy thing to do."

"You did pretty good yourself," Cutter said. "Good work on the cross."

Regan shrugged. "You got out of my way for it."

"I could have broken your flow, sure. But I didn't see anywhere you went far enough over impeachment for the judge to sustain an objection. It was nice work, Ms Markham, take the compliment. You've got a bright future ahead of you at Hogan Place."

Regan looked down and away and Cutter frowned.

"You're not coming back?" he asked.

"It's out of my hands," Regan said.

"You think Arthur would hold a grudge?" Connie asked in surprise.

"Not Arthur," Regan said. She looked back at them and smiled, bright and false. "We'll see. We'll see what happens."


.oOo.