An Independent Woman by Howard Fast

Berman.” He listened and then he said, “You don’t have to send a car. I’ll bring her down—yes, this morning. Yes, she understands the nature of a lineup.” He replaced the phone. “They’re being nice. We’ll drive down in your car. I don’t want to make them wait too long.”
    I T HAD NEVER OCCURRED TO ABNER BERMAN that he was fat because he desired to be fat, that since childhood he had worn fat as armor, a sort of clown suit that hid a hard-nosed attorney. Barbara knew this, and when he accepted her position and determined to back it up, she felt relieved. On the other hand, Abner had known her for years, had adored her silently, and was less surprised than he pretended to be by her story.
    On the drive down to police headquarters Barbara said little, and Abner occupied his mind with how he would handle something he had never handled before and avoid being disbarred in the process. He was not a criminal lawyer. Here was a common robbery that very shortly would be the talk of San Francisco. In spite of his unwillingness to go along with her idealistic and unreasonable nonsense, he had assented to her decision and he would stay with it.
    Barbara, reviewing what had happened, had a feeling of sickness. She was digging a hole in the ground from which there might be no escape. Of course Abner found it unreasonable; who would find it reasonable? Blacks were sent to prison every day; it was something she could not influence or change, so why did she persist? If she could not answer that question herself, how could she spell it out to anyone else?
    When they arrived at the Hall of Justice, Inspector Meyer was waiting for them, smoking an old black pipe and apparently enjoying the sunlight. He greeted them with a friendly nod. “It’s taken some time to put it together and find some look-alikes. If Ms. Lavette will wait in my office, I’ll try to make her comfortable. It won’t be more than a few minutes.”
    â€œWho’s representing your guy?”
    â€œLefkowitz. Do you know him? The perp didn’t ask for a public defender. This is one interesting crook. Lefkowitz doesn’t come cheap.”
    Barbara was about to say something, but a glance from Abner silenced her. “You’re making a mountain out of a molehill,” Abner said. “You know, Inspector, you could drop this and attend to the bad guys. Ms. Lavette makes no complaint. You’ve got him with a gun, and that should do it—that and the burglar tools. As for my client, you know the Lavette story as well as I do. They’re what they are.”
    â€œCrazy? Strange? What am I supposed to say, Mr. Berman? Anyway, I can’t put this back in the box. Burglar tools? All he had were his keys and a metal toothpick, and his gun, a Mauser, was put together out of plastic, one of those kid toys.”
    â€œThat still comes within the law.”
    â€œWith Lefkowitz defending him? Come on. Anyway, it’s too late. Some sneak inside whispered it to the Chronicle. If the TV crews knew you were here, they’d be all over the place. Let’s go inside.”
    Barbara’s heart sank. She could spell out exactly what her son, Samuel, would say; she could hear the words: not How you are going to explain this farce, Mother, but How am I going to explain it? You’re not a loose gun, you’re not Rambo —would he say Rambo? No, that was unfair. You’re not Albert Schweitzer in the African jungle. You’re a woman in your seventies in San Francisco. Do you know what my colleagues will think? That it’s genetic. I will tell them it’s Joan of Arc—reborn. I am chief surgeon in a normal hospital where they heal sick people —
    Oh, enough ! she told herself. You don’t know what he will say or what anyone will say .
    Lefkowitz was sprawled in the single armchair in Meyer’s office, smoking a cigar. Meyer had tapped his pipe outside, and now