miss. Too busy.”
“This will only take five minutes.”
“No. Impossible to—”
“I’ll pay you one hundred dollars.”
The three men stopped to look at her. The chief gardener said, “You pay us one hundred dollars for five minutes’ work?”
“That’s right.”
“What we have to do…?”
Five minutes later, the gardener’s truck pulled into the driveway of William Carlisle’s estate and Jennifer and the three gardeners got out. Jennifer looked around, selected a beautiful tree next to the front door and said to the gardeners, “Dig it up.”
They took their spades from the truck and began to dig. Before a minute had gone by, the front door burst open and an enormous man in a butler’s uniform came storming out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Long Island Nursery,” Jennifer said crisply. “We’re takin’ out all these trees.”
The butler stared at her. “You’re what ?”
Jennifer held up a piece of paper. “I have an order here to dig up these trees.”
“That’s impossible! Mr. Carlisle would have a fit!” He turned to the gardeners. “You stop that!”
“Look, mister,” Jennifer said, “I’m just doin’ my job.” She looked at the gardeners. “Keep diggin’, fellas.”
“No!” the butler shouted. “I’m telling you there’s been a mistake! Mr. Carlisle didn’t order any trees dug up.”
Jennifer shrugged and said, “My boss says he did.”
“Where can I get in touch with your boss?”
Jennifer looked at her watch. “He’s out on a job in Brooklyn. He should be back in the office around six.”
The butler glared at her, furious. “Just a minute! Don’t do anything until I return.”
“Keep diggin’,” Jennifer told the gardeners.
The butler turned and hurried into the house, slamming the door behind him. A few moments later the door opened and the butler returned, accompanied by a tiny middle-aged man.
“Would you mind telling me what the devil is going on here?”
“What business is it of yours?” Jennifer demanded.
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine,” he snapped. “I’m William Carlisle and this happens to be my property.”
“In that case, Mr. Carlisle,” Jennifer said, “I have something for you.” She reached in her pocket and put the summons in his hand. She turned to the gardeners. “You can stop digging now.”
Early the next morning Adam Warner telephoned. Jennifer recognized his voice instantly.
“I thought you would like to know,” Adam said, “that thedisbarment proceedings have been officially dropped. You have nothing more to worry about.”
Jennifer closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. “I—I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”
“Justice isn’t always blind.”
Adam did not mention the scene he had had with Stewart Needham and Robert Di Silva. Needham had been disappointed, but philosophical.
The District Attorney had carried on like a raging bull. “You let that bitch get away with this? Jesus Christ, she’s Mafia, Adam! Couldn’t you see that? She’s conning you!”
And on and on, until Adam had tired of it.
“All the evidence against her was circumstantial, Robert. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she got mousetrapped. That doesn’t spell Mafia to me.”
Finally Robert Di Silva had said, “Okay, so she’s still a lawyer. I just hope to God she practices in New York, because the minute she sets foot in any of my courtrooms, I’m going to wipe her out.”
Now, talking to Jennifer, Adam said nothing of this. Jennifer had made a deadly enemy, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Robert Di Silva was a vindictive man, and Jennifer was a vulnerable target. She was bright and idealistic and achingly young and lovely.
Adam knew he must never see her again.
There were days and weeks and months when Jennifer was ready to quit. The sign on the door still read Jennifer Parker, Attorney at Law, but it
“This will only take five minutes.”
“No. Impossible to—”
“I’ll pay you one hundred dollars.”
The three men stopped to look at her. The chief gardener said, “You pay us one hundred dollars for five minutes’ work?”
“That’s right.”
“What we have to do…?”
Five minutes later, the gardener’s truck pulled into the driveway of William Carlisle’s estate and Jennifer and the three gardeners got out. Jennifer looked around, selected a beautiful tree next to the front door and said to the gardeners, “Dig it up.”
They took their spades from the truck and began to dig. Before a minute had gone by, the front door burst open and an enormous man in a butler’s uniform came storming out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Long Island Nursery,” Jennifer said crisply. “We’re takin’ out all these trees.”
The butler stared at her. “You’re what ?”
Jennifer held up a piece of paper. “I have an order here to dig up these trees.”
“That’s impossible! Mr. Carlisle would have a fit!” He turned to the gardeners. “You stop that!”
“Look, mister,” Jennifer said, “I’m just doin’ my job.” She looked at the gardeners. “Keep diggin’, fellas.”
“No!” the butler shouted. “I’m telling you there’s been a mistake! Mr. Carlisle didn’t order any trees dug up.”
Jennifer shrugged and said, “My boss says he did.”
“Where can I get in touch with your boss?”
Jennifer looked at her watch. “He’s out on a job in Brooklyn. He should be back in the office around six.”
The butler glared at her, furious. “Just a minute! Don’t do anything until I return.”
“Keep diggin’,” Jennifer told the gardeners.
The butler turned and hurried into the house, slamming the door behind him. A few moments later the door opened and the butler returned, accompanied by a tiny middle-aged man.
“Would you mind telling me what the devil is going on here?”
“What business is it of yours?” Jennifer demanded.
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine,” he snapped. “I’m William Carlisle and this happens to be my property.”
“In that case, Mr. Carlisle,” Jennifer said, “I have something for you.” She reached in her pocket and put the summons in his hand. She turned to the gardeners. “You can stop digging now.”
Early the next morning Adam Warner telephoned. Jennifer recognized his voice instantly.
“I thought you would like to know,” Adam said, “that thedisbarment proceedings have been officially dropped. You have nothing more to worry about.”
Jennifer closed her eyes and said a silent prayer of thanks. “I—I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you’ve done.”
“Justice isn’t always blind.”
Adam did not mention the scene he had had with Stewart Needham and Robert Di Silva. Needham had been disappointed, but philosophical.
The District Attorney had carried on like a raging bull. “You let that bitch get away with this? Jesus Christ, she’s Mafia, Adam! Couldn’t you see that? She’s conning you!”
And on and on, until Adam had tired of it.
“All the evidence against her was circumstantial, Robert. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she got mousetrapped. That doesn’t spell Mafia to me.”
Finally Robert Di Silva had said, “Okay, so she’s still a lawyer. I just hope to God she practices in New York, because the minute she sets foot in any of my courtrooms, I’m going to wipe her out.”
Now, talking to Jennifer, Adam said nothing of this. Jennifer had made a deadly enemy, but there was nothing that could be done about it. Robert Di Silva was a vindictive man, and Jennifer was a vulnerable target. She was bright and idealistic and achingly young and lovely.
Adam knew he must never see her again.
There were days and weeks and months when Jennifer was ready to quit. The sign on the door still read Jennifer Parker, Attorney at Law, but it
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