He smiled. “You’re damned right. It’s so dumb it has to be true.”
“Can you help me?”
He said slowly, “I’m going to try. I’d give anything to put them all behind bars. They own this town and most of the judges in it. If you go to trial, they’ll bury you so deep you’ll never see daylight again.”
Tracy looked at him, puzzled. “If I go to trial?”
Pope stood and paced up and down in the small cell. “I don’t want to put you in front of a jury, because, believe me, it will be his jury. There’s only one judge Orsatti has never been able to buy. His name is Henry Lawrence. If I can arrange for him to hear this case, I’m pretty sure I can make a deal for you. It’s not strictly ethical, but I’m going to speak to him privately. He hates Orsatti and Romano as much as I do. Now all we’ve got to do is get to Judge Lawrence.”
Perry Pope arranged for Tracy to place a telephone call to Charles. Tracy heard the familiar voice of Charles’s secretary. “Mr. Stanhope’s office.”
“Harriet. This is Tracy Whitney. Is—?”
“Oh! He’s been trying to reach you, Miss Whitney, but we didn’t have a telephone number for you. Mrs. Stanhope is most anxious to discuss the wedding arrangements with you. If you could call her as soon as possible—”
“Harriet, may I speak to Mr. Stanhope, please?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Whitney. He’s on his way to Houston for a meeting. If you’ll give me your number, I’m sure he’ll telephone you as soon as he can.”
“I—” There was no way she could have him telephone her at the jail. Not until she had a chance to explain things to him first.
“I—I’ll have to call Mr. Stanhope back.” She slowly replaced the receiver.
Tomorrow, Tracy thought wearily. I’ll explain it all to Charles tomorrow.
That afternoon Tracy was moved to a larger cell. A delicious hot dinner appeared from Galatoire’s, and a short time later fresh flowers arrived with a note attached. Tracy opened the envelope and pulled out the card. CHIN UP, WE’RE GOING TO BEAT THE BASTARDS. PERRY POPE.
He came to visit Tracy the following morning. The instant she saw the smile on his face, she knew there was good news.
“We got lucky,” he exclaimed. “I’ve just left Judge Lawrence and Topper, the district attorney. Topper screamed like a banshee, but we’ve got a deal.”
“A deal?”
“I told Judge Lawrence your whole story. He’s agreed to accept a guilty plea from you.”
Tracy stared at him in shock. “A guilty plea? But I’m not—”
He raised a hand. “Hear me out. By pleading guilty, you save the state the expense of a trial. I’ve persuaded the judge that you didn’t steal the painting. He knows Joe Romano, and he believes me.”
“But…if I plead guilty,” Tracy asked slowly, “what will they do to me?”
“Judge Lawrence will sentence you to three months in prison with—”
“Prison!”
“Wait a minute. He’ll suspend the sentence, and you can do your probation out of the state.”
“But then I’ll—I’ll have a record.”
Perry Pope sighed. “If they put you on trial for armed robbery and attempted murder during the commission of a felony, you could be sentenced to ten years.”
Ten years in jail!
Perry Pope was patiently watching her. “It’s your decision,” he said. “I can only give you my best advice. It’s a miracle that I got away with this. They want an answer now. You don’t have to take the deal. You can get another lawyer and—”
“No.” She knew that this man was honest. Under the circumstances, considering her insane behavior, he had done everything possible for her. If only she could talk to Charles. But they needed an answer now. She was probably lucky to get off with a three-month suspended sentence.
“I’ll—I’ll take the deal,” Tracy said. She had to force the words out.
He nodded. “Smart girl.”
She was not permitted to make any phone calls before she was returned to the courtroom. Ed Topper stood on one side of her, and Perry Pope on the other. Seated on the bench was a distinguished-looking man in his fifties, with a smooth, unlined face and thick, styled hair.