“Why won’t they testify?” Fiske said evenly. He had been down this road before. How many times as a cop had cases disappeared before his eyes because the witnesses suddenly forgot what they had so clearly seen and remembered before?
Leon shrugged. “You know, things come up. People don’t keep their appointments.”
“The police took their statements.”
Leon gave him a sharp glance. “Right, but I get to face people testifying against me, right? So’s you can trip ’em up on the witness stand, right?”
“You certainly know your Constitution,” Fiske said dryly. He took a deep breath. He was so tired of the game of witness intimidation. “Come on, Leon, tell me — I’m your attorney, it’s all privileged. Why won’t they testify against you?”
Leon cracked a smile. “You don’t need to know.”
“Yes, I do. I don’t need any surprises. You never know what a prosecutor is going to try. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen before. If something goes down and I’m not prepared for it, your ass could go up the river.”
Now Leon looked a little worried. He obviously hadn’t thought of that. He rubbed at the swastika on his forearm. “Privileged, right? That’s what you said.”
“That’s right.” Fiske leaned forward. “Between you, me and God.”
Leon laughed. “God? Shit, that’s a good one.” He hunched forward and spoke in a low voice. “Got me a couple of friends. They gonna pay a little visit to these witnesses. Make sure they forget their way to the courthouse. It’s all set up.”
Fiske slumped back. “Aw hell, now you’ve done it.”
“Done what?”
“Told me the one damn thing I have to go to the judge with.”
“What the hell you talking about?”
“Legally, and ethically, I can’t divulge any information given to me by a client.”
“So, what’s the problem? I’m your client and I just gave you the damn information.”
“Right, but you see, there’s an important exception to that rule. You just told me about a crime you’ve planned for the future. That’s the one thing I have to tell the court. I can’t let you commit the crime. I have to advise you not to do it. Consider yourself so advised. If you’d already done it, we’d be okay. What the hell were you thinking about, telling me that?” Fiske looked disgusted.
“I didn’t know that was the law. Shit, I ain’t no damn lawyer.”
“Come on, Leon, you know the law better than most lawyers. Now you’ve gone and screwed up your own case. Now we have to plead.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“If we go to trial and the witnesses don’t show, I have to tell the court what you told me. If the witnesses show, your ass is cooked.”
“Well, then don’t you go telling nobody nothing.”
“That’s not an option, Leon. If I don’t and it comes out somehow, I lose my license to practice. And while I like you a lot, no client is worth that. Without my license I don’t eat. And you screwed up, man, not me.”
“I don’t believe this shit. I thought you could tell your damn attorney anything.”
“I’ll see what I can do on the plea. You’re going to spend some time in jail, Leon, no way around that.” Fiske stood and patted the prisoner on the back. “Don’t worry, I’ll cut you the best deal I can.”
As Fiske walked out of the visitors’ room he smiled for the first time all day.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
* * *
Michael Fiske looked up ahead nervously as he drove. His wipers struggled to maintain visibility in the face of the pouring rain. Headed west, he had passed places with names like Pulaski, Bland and even something called Hungry Mothers State Park, which had conjured up in his mind a discomforting vision of huddled masses of women and children begging for food along the park’s trails. For a while winds swirling off nearby Big A Mountain buffeted the car. Even though he had been born and raised in Virginia, Fiske had never been west of Roanoke, and he had only ventured there to take the bar exam. Up to this point he had made good time, because the trip had been all highway. Once he had exited Interstate 81 and headed in a northwesterly direction, that had abruptly changed. Now the terrain was rugged and unforgiving, the roads narrow and serpentine.