completed, and the feds were completely in the loop. End of story.”
“No, it’s not the end of the story. Thanks to you, this won’t be over until that crazy son of a bitch comes after my daughter again. Then let’s see if you’re so smug.” He hung up the phone without saying good-bye, doing nothing to mask his disgust in the presence of his bodyguard. He rose and walked to the window. Not even the sailboats and the flat, blue-green waters of the bay could soothe him.
Felipe said, “You want me to speak to this Swyteck?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said, still looking out the window.
“You want me to pay Falcon a little visit?”
The mayor turned to face him as he considered it, forcing a little smile. Felipe smiled back. Before long, the two men were grinning so broadly that the mayor could hardly contain his laughter. Felipe, too, was on the verge of laughter, though he clearly didn’t know why. “What’s so funny, boss?”
“It just amazes me, how stupid you can be.”
Felipe’s smile vanished. “What do you mean?”
The mayor’s expression was deadly serious. “In the great American tradition of executive-office conversations that never happened, let me ask you two questions. One, isn’t it obvious what needs to be done?
“Two, why on earth would you ask the mayor before doing it?”
chapter 10
J ack Swyteck liked to think of himself as a full-ser vice attorney, but he did not make house calls. That was the rule, which, like most rules, was swallowed by its exceptions. He did visit clients who were in jail, who didn’t have a car, or, apparently, who lived in a car.
“You sure about these directions?” said Theo.
Jack was leading the way down a footpath along the Miami River. A commuter train rambled along the track two hundred feet above them. A lazy tugboat churned downriver toward the bay, its wake breaking against a rusted, half-submerged barge. “Am I sure?” said Jack. “These directions rolled right off the lips of a clinically paranoid homeless stalker who threatened to throw himself off a bridge if the mayor’s daughter didn’t talk to him. Why would I question their accuracy?”
Theo considered it, then said, “Do you speak Globalish?”
“Do I speak what?”
“Globalish. It’s the universal language of the homeless. Like Esperanto.”
“What the hell is that?”
“You never heard of Esperanto? It was invented by some Polish dude, but it’s more like Spanish or Italian. A second language for everyone. That’s sort of what Globalish means. It’s English, combined with global, meaning worldwide, though it can also mean ‘great tits,’ depending on the context. Globalish. It’s probably what Falcon was speaking when he gave you the directions.”
Jack wasn’t sure how to respond. Theo had this uncanny ability to make no sense and make perfect sense at the same time.
They kept walking. Earlier that morning, an unexpected phone call from the state attorney had lasted only a few minutes. Jack knew almost immediately that the prosecutor was bluffing. If the state could prove that Falcon was continuing to harass the mayor’s daughter, the prosecutor would have been in court faster than a bailiff could say “All rise.” Jack would not agree to a restraining order. The personal call from the mayor had made it considerably more difficult to maintain that position, but it was his job to put emotions aside and to act in his client’s interest. He still had a conscience, however. If his client was determined to continue breaking the law-if Falcon refused to give up his pursuit of Alicia Mendoza-then it was time for him to get a new lawyer. Jack had defended plenty of clients who had committed horrible crimes. Anyone who had a problem with that had no business being a criminal defense lawyer. It was something altogether different, however, to provide legal protection for someone who was steadily working his way up to the big kill.
And that was his problem
“No, it’s not the end of the story. Thanks to you, this won’t be over until that crazy son of a bitch comes after my daughter again. Then let’s see if you’re so smug.” He hung up the phone without saying good-bye, doing nothing to mask his disgust in the presence of his bodyguard. He rose and walked to the window. Not even the sailboats and the flat, blue-green waters of the bay could soothe him.
Felipe said, “You want me to speak to this Swyteck?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said, still looking out the window.
“You want me to pay Falcon a little visit?”
The mayor turned to face him as he considered it, forcing a little smile. Felipe smiled back. Before long, the two men were grinning so broadly that the mayor could hardly contain his laughter. Felipe, too, was on the verge of laughter, though he clearly didn’t know why. “What’s so funny, boss?”
“It just amazes me, how stupid you can be.”
Felipe’s smile vanished. “What do you mean?”
The mayor’s expression was deadly serious. “In the great American tradition of executive-office conversations that never happened, let me ask you two questions. One, isn’t it obvious what needs to be done?
“Two, why on earth would you ask the mayor before doing it?”
chapter 10
J ack Swyteck liked to think of himself as a full-ser vice attorney, but he did not make house calls. That was the rule, which, like most rules, was swallowed by its exceptions. He did visit clients who were in jail, who didn’t have a car, or, apparently, who lived in a car.
“You sure about these directions?” said Theo.
Jack was leading the way down a footpath along the Miami River. A commuter train rambled along the track two hundred feet above them. A lazy tugboat churned downriver toward the bay, its wake breaking against a rusted, half-submerged barge. “Am I sure?” said Jack. “These directions rolled right off the lips of a clinically paranoid homeless stalker who threatened to throw himself off a bridge if the mayor’s daughter didn’t talk to him. Why would I question their accuracy?”
Theo considered it, then said, “Do you speak Globalish?”
“Do I speak what?”
“Globalish. It’s the universal language of the homeless. Like Esperanto.”
“What the hell is that?”
“You never heard of Esperanto? It was invented by some Polish dude, but it’s more like Spanish or Italian. A second language for everyone. That’s sort of what Globalish means. It’s English, combined with global, meaning worldwide, though it can also mean ‘great tits,’ depending on the context. Globalish. It’s probably what Falcon was speaking when he gave you the directions.”
Jack wasn’t sure how to respond. Theo had this uncanny ability to make no sense and make perfect sense at the same time.
They kept walking. Earlier that morning, an unexpected phone call from the state attorney had lasted only a few minutes. Jack knew almost immediately that the prosecutor was bluffing. If the state could prove that Falcon was continuing to harass the mayor’s daughter, the prosecutor would have been in court faster than a bailiff could say “All rise.” Jack would not agree to a restraining order. The personal call from the mayor had made it considerably more difficult to maintain that position, but it was his job to put emotions aside and to act in his client’s interest. He still had a conscience, however. If his client was determined to continue breaking the law-if Falcon refused to give up his pursuit of Alicia Mendoza-then it was time for him to get a new lawyer. Jack had defended plenty of clients who had committed horrible crimes. Anyone who had a problem with that had no business being a criminal defense lawyer. It was something altogether different, however, to provide legal protection for someone who was steadily working his way up to the big kill.
And that was his problem
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