this?”
After a minute of consideration Hardy said, “Let’s say I’m not comfortable with the idea of defending the person who killed Elaine. I liked her. If Cole did it, I’ll turn Dorothy onto somebody else, tell her I’ve got a conflict of interest.”
“You just said ‘if Cole did it.’ ”
“He did, Frannie. He’s confessed. That’s usually a tip-off.”
“But you’re going to want to find out a little more, aren’t you? Make sure.”
Hardy’s reluctance showed like a fresh bruise. His expression changed two or three times until it rested on a grimace. “Probably, knowing me,” he admitted, “although there’s no such thing as sure. It just feels a little pat up to now, that’s all. I’d want to talk to him at least, get his side of it. But if it seems like he did do it—strung out and screwed up or not—I’ll let David or somebody else take him. I wouldn’t want to be involved in defending him.”
“But what if . . . ?”
Hardy held up a hand. “Let’s not go there. Not yet, okay.”
“Abe would be pretty unhappy, though, wouldn’t he, if you did?”
He nodded somberly. “You know, my love, sometimes you show a remarkable talent for understatement.”
It surprised Hardy, but neither Jeff nor Dorothy Elliot had any real problem with his decision not to represent Cole. They even said they thought it was a smart one. As they talked, it came out that the boy had done a pretty good job of alienating everybody in the family.
When he’d first begun having “problems,” Jeff and Dorothy had tried to be understanding and supportive in his struggle. Cole told them that he’d come out to San Francisco because there wasn’t any real empathy regarding his situation in the Midwest. He was trying but people just didn’t understand.
So the Elliots invited him to stay with them and their children until he got settled in. In the next month, Jeff “lost” a watch and they had a daytime break-in where the burglar got away with most of Dorothy’s jewelry. Dinners became upsetting for the children when Uncle Cole’s place would be set and he wouldn’t show up. On top of that, Cole had two minor traffic accidents while he was driving Dorothy’s car, both of them the other driver’s fault—except that in both cases the other car had fled. Finally, when one of the girls’ piggy banks that had held four hundred dollars turned up missing, they’d told Cole he had to go and not come back.
So they understood Hardy’s decision. He was a friend to have gone to the jail in an emergency and make sure he got into the detox. They didn’t expect him to do anything else.
But for his own peace of mind, Hardy did want to eyeball the man and get to the bottom of this confession. What had Cole said? Glitsky’s behavior had stuck in his craw as well. It wasn’t that he thought Cole might be innocent, but the fact that everyone was treating him as though it had already been proven bothered the lawyer in Hardy.
He didn’t need certainty beyond a reasonable doubt. He was ready to cast Cole off in a heartbeat, but he couldn’t let go completely until he’d at least totally satisfied himself that the man had actually killed Elaine.
Then let him be damned. Hardy wouldn’t care.
5
I n the women’s room at Rand & Jackman Law Associates on Montgomery Street, Treya Ghent tried to fix her eyes, but she knew it was a losing fight. Between the horrible, senseless murder of her dear friend and boss Elaine Wager and the unrelenting demands of her wonderful but high-maintenance fourteen-year-old daughter Raney, she had averaged less than three hours of sleep for the past four nights.
She was at work this morning because she didn’t want to use up any more sick days frivolously. She needed to keep a bank so that she would be available if her daughter absolutely needed to have her stay home to care for a real illness, or to counsel her during a real crisis. And Treya didn’t kid herself.
After a minute of consideration Hardy said, “Let’s say I’m not comfortable with the idea of defending the person who killed Elaine. I liked her. If Cole did it, I’ll turn Dorothy onto somebody else, tell her I’ve got a conflict of interest.”
“You just said ‘if Cole did it.’ ”
“He did, Frannie. He’s confessed. That’s usually a tip-off.”
“But you’re going to want to find out a little more, aren’t you? Make sure.”
Hardy’s reluctance showed like a fresh bruise. His expression changed two or three times until it rested on a grimace. “Probably, knowing me,” he admitted, “although there’s no such thing as sure. It just feels a little pat up to now, that’s all. I’d want to talk to him at least, get his side of it. But if it seems like he did do it—strung out and screwed up or not—I’ll let David or somebody else take him. I wouldn’t want to be involved in defending him.”
“But what if . . . ?”
Hardy held up a hand. “Let’s not go there. Not yet, okay.”
“Abe would be pretty unhappy, though, wouldn’t he, if you did?”
He nodded somberly. “You know, my love, sometimes you show a remarkable talent for understatement.”
It surprised Hardy, but neither Jeff nor Dorothy Elliot had any real problem with his decision not to represent Cole. They even said they thought it was a smart one. As they talked, it came out that the boy had done a pretty good job of alienating everybody in the family.
When he’d first begun having “problems,” Jeff and Dorothy had tried to be understanding and supportive in his struggle. Cole told them that he’d come out to San Francisco because there wasn’t any real empathy regarding his situation in the Midwest. He was trying but people just didn’t understand.
So the Elliots invited him to stay with them and their children until he got settled in. In the next month, Jeff “lost” a watch and they had a daytime break-in where the burglar got away with most of Dorothy’s jewelry. Dinners became upsetting for the children when Uncle Cole’s place would be set and he wouldn’t show up. On top of that, Cole had two minor traffic accidents while he was driving Dorothy’s car, both of them the other driver’s fault—except that in both cases the other car had fled. Finally, when one of the girls’ piggy banks that had held four hundred dollars turned up missing, they’d told Cole he had to go and not come back.
So they understood Hardy’s decision. He was a friend to have gone to the jail in an emergency and make sure he got into the detox. They didn’t expect him to do anything else.
But for his own peace of mind, Hardy did want to eyeball the man and get to the bottom of this confession. What had Cole said? Glitsky’s behavior had stuck in his craw as well. It wasn’t that he thought Cole might be innocent, but the fact that everyone was treating him as though it had already been proven bothered the lawyer in Hardy.
He didn’t need certainty beyond a reasonable doubt. He was ready to cast Cole off in a heartbeat, but he couldn’t let go completely until he’d at least totally satisfied himself that the man had actually killed Elaine.
Then let him be damned. Hardy wouldn’t care.
5
I n the women’s room at Rand & Jackman Law Associates on Montgomery Street, Treya Ghent tried to fix her eyes, but she knew it was a losing fight. Between the horrible, senseless murder of her dear friend and boss Elaine Wager and the unrelenting demands of her wonderful but high-maintenance fourteen-year-old daughter Raney, she had averaged less than three hours of sleep for the past four nights.
She was at work this morning because she didn’t want to use up any more sick days frivolously. She needed to keep a bank so that she would be available if her daughter absolutely needed to have her stay home to care for a real illness, or to counsel her during a real crisis. And Treya didn’t kid herself.
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