Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt

a part of it. Not under any circumstances. But especially not if you’re planning to run for another Senate term.”
    “Got it.”
    He looked at his friend sternly. “This case will not help you, Ben. The press will not be kind if you represent an accused cop killer.”
    “The press assume everyone accused is guilty. I don’t.”
    “I don’t think you’re hearing what I’m saying.”
    “You’re wrong. Message received and understood.”
    “But taken to heart?”
    Ben drew in his breath. “I’m just going to talk to the man. I have no desire to get involved in this. For reasons you can’t even begin to comprehend.”
    “Glad to hear it. Take care.” Mike hesitated a moment. “Um, heard anything from your sister?”
    “Not much. A few quick phone calls. But that’s good, for her.”
    “And that little boy of hers?”
    You mean, that little boy of yours? Ben thought. He still had no idea whether Mike realized what was so patently obvious to him. “Haven’t spoken to Joey. I hear he’s doing better in school.”
    “That’s good. Not that I care, but if she happens to come to town …”
    “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
    “Thanks. I better get back to work.” He started away, then turned back one last time, holding up a finger. “Now remember—no underdogs. No lost causes. No bad publicity.”
    “Got it.”
    “Scout’s honor?”
    “Scout’s honor.”
    Mike paused a moment, then said: “You never were a Scout, were you?”
    Ben smiled. “Couldn’t stand the uniform.”
     
     
     

4
     
     
    Ben hated how his footsteps echoed as he walked down the metal-floored corridor that led to the county jail holding cells. He had been here before—on one notable occasion wearing orange coveralls, cuffs, and foot shackles—and it never failed to give him the willies. The deliberate austerity, the cold and mechanical environment, and the superior attitudes of those in attendance all made for an indelibly unpleasant experience.
    Of course, that was the point.
    “Here you are,” the man in the tan uniform said, as if those three words left a bitter taste in his mouth. Ben wasn’t surprised. The arrestee was accused of killing a police officer. There would be no kindness in these quarters.
    “Thanks, Sam.” The attending officer unlocked the cell, let Ben in, then closed the door behind him.
    Dennis was lying on the cot. The cell had a small table, an open toilet, and a sink, partially obscured by a small wall. It was not the Ritz. It was not even the basement at the Ritz.
    Dennis opened his eyes. “Thanks for coming.”
    “It’s a miracle I got here as soon as I did. They were deliberately giving me the runaround.”
    “I would’ve thought a senator would have some sway at the jailhouse.”
    “When it comes to cop killing, no one has sway. And the police won’t make anything easy. The reporters are already gathering outside. I managed to come in through a side door, but I won’t get that courtesy again.” Ben put down his briefcase and sat on the end of the cot. “So what did you want?”
    “I want you to get me off, obviously.”
    “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I can’t suborn perjury.”
    “I don’t even know what that means.”
    “It means I can’t knowingly put someone on the stand and help him lie.”
    “Who said anything about lying?”
    Ben gave him a long look. “You must think I have the memory of a mayfly. I know perfectly well you were planning to kill Detective Sentz. And then you went out and did it.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Don’t patronize me.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Well, good luck convincing the jury.”
    “I think I should plead not guilty by reason of temporary insanity.”
    “I thought you didn’t do it.”
    “That’s correct. But I think my chances of success will be greater with a temporary insanity plea.”
    “You’ll have to do it with a different attorney. Don’t worry—there are lots of lawyers out there.