Dog Tags by David Rosenfelt

think Erskine was in on having this guy killed?”
    He nods. “I do. There’s no way that girl should have been able to get in there with a bomb that size strapped to her. It had
     to be a setup, and Erskine was one of the people in a perfect position to make that happen.”
    “Was there an investigation?”
    He laughs. “Sure. Went nowhere.”
    “Could it have been an Iraqi that let the girl in?”
    “No way. There were American MPs and soldiers everywhere. It just doesn’t ring true. Anyway, Erskine didn’t get off scot-free.
     The incident at least put him out of favor, and he left the army.” He shakes his head. “The son of a bitch. He lost his command,
     eighteen people lost their lives, and I lost my leg.”
    “So you’ve been watching him since he got back?” I ask.
    He nods. “On and off.”
    “And you were at the club that night because he was there.”
    “Right. And I don’t know what was in that envelope, but the way he was acting, it had to be something important. Something
     that everyone will want.”
    “And you think the prosecutor will trade your freedom for the chance to get it back?”
    “I think he’ll be instructed to.”
    “Have you told other people your feelings about Erskine?” I ask.
    “You mean that I hated his guts? I would say a number of people know that.”
    “That will be used against you,” I say.
    “Only if I go to trial.”
    There’s a lot more for me to learn, but I don’t need to ask those questions now. He’s given me enough to bargain on his behalf,
     or at least to discover if we have a bargaining position at all.
    It’s time to find that out.

E LI SEEMS FAR LESS WILLING TO MEET WITH ME THIS TIME, BUT HE FINALLY AGREES.
    “Let me guess” is how he greets me when I arrive at his office. “You’re representing a goldfish in a paternity suit.”
    “Nope.”
    “Okay. You’re handling a probate matter for a ferret.”
    “You’re a bitter loser,” I say.
    His mood suddenly seems to change and he laughs. “Not this time. This time I actually thought it was pretty funny. Did you
     get the dog?”
    “No, I filed the paper with the court, but it hasn’t been approved yet. Should hear anytime.”
    “So what do you want now?”
    “I’m representing Billy Zimmerman for the purpose of plea bargaining.”
    “Then this will be a short meeting. Which plea bargain are you talking about?’
    “The one we’re about to have.”
    He frowns. “Okay, I’ll start. He cops to first degree, forty years minimum.”
    “You must be bitter,” I say. “Because that’s ridiculous.”
    “Andy, he robbed and killed a former high-ranking army officer, just returned from a tour of duty in Iraq. We have eyewitnesses,
     patrons from the bar. We also have the gun with his prints all over it, and gunpowder residue on his hands. This is not exactly
     a whodunit; why would we possibly take less?”
    This is not going well. “Eli, during the trial there were references made to federal agents involved with the dog. Have you
     checked into that?”
    “You think I’m going to share that with you?”
    “I have reason to believe that they might have a point of view on my client’s situation.”
    “Andy, I’ve talked to them, and as far as I can tell they don’t give a shit what happens to your client. And to tell you the
     truth, neither do I.”
    This represents proof that Billy has completely misjudged his situation, which does not surprise me. If Eli was under any
     pressure, federal or otherwise, to make a deal, he wouldn’t be rejecting my overtures so definitively. And Billy’s idea that
     he can trade for his freedom is clearly not on any table I can find.
    What continues to surprise me is the hands-off attitude the feds are taking. They were so anxious to hang on to Milo that
     they installed an armed guard on his cage, but they didn’t try to prevent my getting him at the hearing. Now they seem to
     show no interest in Billy at all.
    I decide to change the