what?”
“On who I think is in the right.”
“You aren’t going to try to convince me you’re the last noble lawyer.”
He laughed out loud. “No, no, of course not. A man in your line of work must’ve figured out a long time ago that nobility is usually in the eye of the beholder.”
“Often,” I said. “But not always.”
He said nothing. He set his cigar down in an ashtray and reached over and pulled the large checkbook toward him on the table, flipping it open.
“I see from the door you’ve got a few partners.”
“Right,” he said without looking up. “This is just a satellite office. We do plaintive work, workman’s comp, that sort of thing, for a lot of the factory employees in this area. Makes it more convenient for them. All the partners in the firm rotate through here every six months. Doing my tour.” He whisked an expensive-looking pen from his jacket pocket and began writing.
“You don’t live in Nitro or Dunbar then?”
“Nope. In the city. South Hills. … What was the spelling of your last name again?”
I gave it to him.
He began to write out the check. “I was thinking a thousand-dollar retainer to start. That ought to cover your initial time and expenses. Sound good to you?”
I nodded.
“You do much work for attorneys?” he asked.
“Some.”
He finished writing and tore the check out and handed it to me. “Good. I know this is a special circumstance, but maybe this will be the start of a mutually beneficial relationship.”
He looked at me expectantly as I took the piece of paper from him. It was one of those oversized checks, the kind that stands out in a crowd. In the upper-left-hand corner were the name of his professional corporation, his own followed by the prerequisite initials, and an image of a flying American flag with a Revolutionary War-era musket leaning below it.
“We’ll see how it goes,” I said. “I do some contract work for another agency but with my own clients I normally earn my keep from case to case.”
“Of course. Best way to handle things. No entanglements.”
“What’s the significance of the flag and the flintlock?” I asked.
“Ah, that. Freedom,” he said. “I’ve always been a big believer in our Constitution. The whole basis of our system of laws.”
“I’ve got no quibble with the Second Amendment crowd.”
“That’s great.”
“As long as it’s not being used as a shield for nefarious activity.”
He held up his hands and smiled. “Nothing nefarious here, I can assure you. I am worried about something with this whole affair of Chester’s shooting, however. I wondered if you were aware of it.”
“What’s that?”
He picked up his cigar again and took another puff, blowing the smoke upward. “It concerns your friend, Mr. Toronto.”
“Jake? There are a lot of people who have to worry about him.”
“Yes, but can he be trusted?”
“I don’t know what you mean, exactly. Jake knows how to handle himself, he used to be my partner, and I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have.”
“Have you now? You know what kind of business he’s in, what kind of things he does, who he works for?”
“Not everything. Jake lives pretty modestly. I’m not worried about him being into anyone for money, if that’s what you’re driving at.”
“No, no.” He waved off the thought. “I wasn’t talking about money.”
“What are you talking about then?”
“You know, it’s not that important. If you trust this man, that’s good enough for me. I just want you to help bring Betty Carew some peace of mind over this whole business without …”
“Without what?”
“I don’t know … alienating a lot of people. This is a decent valley, filled with a lot of decent, hardworking people.”
“I’m sure it is, but somebody was indecent enough to have shot my client’s husband from behind in cold blood. You act like you have your ear to the ground. Any theories on who did it?”
He leaned back in the
“On who I think is in the right.”
“You aren’t going to try to convince me you’re the last noble lawyer.”
He laughed out loud. “No, no, of course not. A man in your line of work must’ve figured out a long time ago that nobility is usually in the eye of the beholder.”
“Often,” I said. “But not always.”
He said nothing. He set his cigar down in an ashtray and reached over and pulled the large checkbook toward him on the table, flipping it open.
“I see from the door you’ve got a few partners.”
“Right,” he said without looking up. “This is just a satellite office. We do plaintive work, workman’s comp, that sort of thing, for a lot of the factory employees in this area. Makes it more convenient for them. All the partners in the firm rotate through here every six months. Doing my tour.” He whisked an expensive-looking pen from his jacket pocket and began writing.
“You don’t live in Nitro or Dunbar then?”
“Nope. In the city. South Hills. … What was the spelling of your last name again?”
I gave it to him.
He began to write out the check. “I was thinking a thousand-dollar retainer to start. That ought to cover your initial time and expenses. Sound good to you?”
I nodded.
“You do much work for attorneys?” he asked.
“Some.”
He finished writing and tore the check out and handed it to me. “Good. I know this is a special circumstance, but maybe this will be the start of a mutually beneficial relationship.”
He looked at me expectantly as I took the piece of paper from him. It was one of those oversized checks, the kind that stands out in a crowd. In the upper-left-hand corner were the name of his professional corporation, his own followed by the prerequisite initials, and an image of a flying American flag with a Revolutionary War-era musket leaning below it.
“We’ll see how it goes,” I said. “I do some contract work for another agency but with my own clients I normally earn my keep from case to case.”
“Of course. Best way to handle things. No entanglements.”
“What’s the significance of the flag and the flintlock?” I asked.
“Ah, that. Freedom,” he said. “I’ve always been a big believer in our Constitution. The whole basis of our system of laws.”
“I’ve got no quibble with the Second Amendment crowd.”
“That’s great.”
“As long as it’s not being used as a shield for nefarious activity.”
He held up his hands and smiled. “Nothing nefarious here, I can assure you. I am worried about something with this whole affair of Chester’s shooting, however. I wondered if you were aware of it.”
“What’s that?”
He picked up his cigar again and took another puff, blowing the smoke upward. “It concerns your friend, Mr. Toronto.”
“Jake? There are a lot of people who have to worry about him.”
“Yes, but can he be trusted?”
“I don’t know what you mean, exactly. Jake knows how to handle himself, he used to be my partner, and I’d trust him with my life. In fact, I have.”
“Have you now? You know what kind of business he’s in, what kind of things he does, who he works for?”
“Not everything. Jake lives pretty modestly. I’m not worried about him being into anyone for money, if that’s what you’re driving at.”
“No, no.” He waved off the thought. “I wasn’t talking about money.”
“What are you talking about then?”
“You know, it’s not that important. If you trust this man, that’s good enough for me. I just want you to help bring Betty Carew some peace of mind over this whole business without …”
“Without what?”
“I don’t know … alienating a lot of people. This is a decent valley, filled with a lot of decent, hardworking people.”
“I’m sure it is, but somebody was indecent enough to have shot my client’s husband from behind in cold blood. You act like you have your ear to the ground. Any theories on who did it?”
He leaned back in the
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