Walter’s. He must be livid as well about this whole deplorable
situation. We can convene a meeting of the management committee tonight.
I don’t think it will take long to arrive at a conclusion. Then–@’
Lord finally held up one hand and cut off Kirksen’s ramblings.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“But, Sandy, as managing partner I believe that–2′
Lord turned to look at him. The red eyes on either side of the large and
bulbous nose cut right into the slender frame.
“I said I’ll handle it.”
Lord turned to look back out the window. Kirksen’s hurt pride was of
absolutely no consequence to him. What concerned Lord was the fact that
someone had tried to kill the man accused of murdering Christine
Sullivan. And no one could reach Walter Sullivan.
JACK PARKED HIS CAR, LOOKED ACROSS THE STREET AND closed his eyes. That
didn’t help since the vanity plates seemed to be imprinted on his brain.
He jumped out of his car and dodged traffic as he made his way across
the slippery street.
He inserted the key in the lock, took a quick breath, and turned the
doorknob.
Jennifer sat in the small chair by the TV. Her short black skirt was
matched by black heels and patterned black stockings. A white blouse was
open at the collar where an emerald necklace fired dazzling color into
the little room. A fulllength sable was draped carefully on the sheet
covering his ragged couch. She was clicking her nails against the TV set
when he walked in. She looked at him without speaking. The thick ruby
lips were set in a firm, vertical line.
“Hi, Jenn.”
“You’ve certainly been a very busy boy the last twenty-four hours,
Jack.” She didn’t smile, her nails continued to click.
“Gotta keep hustling, you know that.”
He took off his coat, undid his tie and went into the kitchen for a
beer. He reemerged, and sat across from her on the couch.
“Hey, got a new piece of business today.”
She reached in her handbag and tossed across the Post.
941 know.”
He looked down at the headlines.
“Your firm won’t let you do it.”
“Too bad, I already did it.”
“You know what I mean. What in God’s name has gotten into you?”
“Jenn, I know the guy, okay? I know him, he’s a friend of mine. I don’t
believe he killed the woman, and I’m going to defend him. Lawyers do
that every day in every place where there are lawyers, and in this
country that’s basically everywhere.”
She leaned forward. “It’s Walter Sullivan, Jack. Think about what you’re
doing.”
“I know it’s Walter Sullivan, Jenn. What? Luther Whitney doesn’t
deserve a good defense because somebody says he killed Walter Sullivan’s
wife? Excuse me but exactly where is that written?”
“Walter Sullivan is your client.”
“Luther Whitney is my friend and I’ve known him a lot longer than I’ve
known Walter Sullivan.”
“Jack, the man you’re defending is a common criminal.
He’s been in and out of jails all his life.”
“Actually he hasn’t been in prison for over twenty years.”
“He’s a convicted felon.”
“But he’s never been convicted of murder,” Jack fired back.
“Jack, there are more attorneys in this city than the criminals. Why
can’t another lawy re are er handle it?”
Jack looked at his beer. “You want oneT, “Answer my question.”
Jack stood up and hurled the beer bottle against the wall.
“Because he goddamn asked me!”
Jenn looked up at him, the frightened look that had crossed her face
passing as soon as the glass fragments and beer hit the floor. She
picked up her coat and put it on.
“You’re making a huge mistake and I hope you come to your senses before
you do irreversible damage. My father almost had a coronary when he read
that story.”
Jack put his hand on her shoulder, turned her face to his and said
quietly, “Jenn, this is something I have to do. I would’ve hoped you
could support me on this.”
“Jack, why don’t you stop drinking beer and start thinking about how you
want to spend the rest of your life.”
When the door closed behind her, Jack slumped against it, rubbing his