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Authors: Perri O'Shaughnessy

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Acts of Malice (28 page)

BOOK: Acts of Malice
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‘‘My marriage makes no difference to our case.’’

‘‘Pillow talk. That’s what everyone will be thinking about. This case was already fraught with problems. I’ve been reading the file. You don’t have anything new.’’

‘‘Ed Dorf will make a much better witness than poor Doc Clauson,’’ Collier said. ‘‘We all know he was in bad shape during the first prelim. Now, we’ve got clean, compelling forensic testimony. I believe Flaherty will bind Jim over when he hears what Ed has to say.’’

‘‘And then there’ll be a trial. And if we, by some miracle, convict Jim Strong, he’ll appeal on grounds that his lawyer was incompetent. She was drawing hearts on her legal pad and slipping them to the prosecutor. That’s what the
Mirror
will say. And the
Chronicle
and the
Examiner
and the . . .’’

‘‘Who reads those rags anyway?’’ asked Collier.

‘‘Heh, heh,’’ said Henry. ‘‘Millions read them cover to cover, feeble comics included, as you well know. Now, here’s my question for you. Can you persuade her to get out?’’

‘‘Get out?’’

‘‘Resign as his lawyer.’’

‘‘Oh, I don’t think so.’’

‘‘Something has to give, Collier.’’

‘‘She would never do that,’’ Collier told him. ‘‘She has a strong sense of duty. She’s not going to abandon him on the eve of a prelim when she’s in such a strong position.’’

‘‘Maybe we could file a motion. She’s got a conflict.’’

‘‘That’s a bizarre notion. Think of the publicity
that
would attract. No, if her client knows we’re married and decides he wants her to stay on, she has every right to continue representing him.’’

Henry made his pen spin like a miniature baton. When he dropped it, he picked it up and twirled again.

‘‘Henry, just—take the information about Nina and me and file it away in some compartment in your head and don’t worry about it. I’ll do my job, she’ll do hers. The newspapers don’t have to know anything. We’ll keep the situation quiet. Because she is insisting, which is her right, we have to have the prelim within ten days, as you know. Nobody else is up to speed on this case. So why don’t you let me handle this my own way?’’

‘‘I guess you didn’t hear me. Something has to give. I’m not saying you can’t handle it. I’m not saying you can’t go up against her in the future. But this one is already as jiggly as gelatin. Your judgment—forgive me —your judgment doesn’t seem to be as sound as I would like to see.’’

The phone rang, and Henry picked it up, still intent upon his pen exercises.

Collier hoped the phone call would distract him. He needed the win in the Strong case because he didn’t feel solid in the job yet. But it wasn’t just that. He believed Clauson. Strong had to be put away. Henry wasn’t convinced of that like Collier was. He had to be there, to see it through. . . .

Henry could seize his marriage to Nina and use it as an excuse to take him off the case, or even decide the evidence was too paltry and the whole thing a no go, if Collier didn’t act quickly.

‘‘Tell her to come on in,’’ said Henry. He set his toy down. ‘‘Barb’s outside,’’ he told Collier. ‘‘The P.D.’s office took the plea bargain in her case.’’

‘‘That’s great!’’

‘‘Isn’t it?’’ said Henry.

Barbara opened the door saying, ‘‘I don’t want to disturb you.’’

‘‘Are you kidding? You just saved the People of the State of California a million bucks and you don’t want to disturb me?’’ Henry came around the desk and gave Barbara a kiss on the cheek.

She accepted it with a smile. ‘‘I am so pumped up,’’ she said.

Collier had stood up. He held out his hand. ‘‘Fantastic,’’ he said. ‘‘Great work.’’

‘‘Thank you.’’

‘‘Tell us all about it,’’ Henry said, and she sat down next to Collier on the settee to regale them with the story, managing to look both hard-charging and winsome at the same time. She had unkind words for her opponents. They had made the foolish mistake of underestimating her. She had played with them like a cat playing with balls of yarn, clawing at them with one maneuver after another until they unraveled.

Her excitement at the win was contagious. As she talked on, leaning forward, using her long, slim fingers for emphasis, they basked in her confidence and power. Henry’s eyes lit up and stayed lit up.

While Collier listened, nodding his head now and again, a plan began taking shape in his mind. Henry was not going to let him off the hook on this conflict of interest. And along came Barb, smart, effective in court, just finding her wings. She had worked under Collier for a while, saw him as a sort of mentor, even seemed to have a soft spot for him. With her as a figurehead, he could maintain some influence and a role in seeing that bastard Jim Strong put away for a long, long time. . . .

‘‘Let’s go out and have a drink after work. Everybody in the office,’’ Henry said when she had finished. ‘‘My God, it’s the kind of day every prosecutor dreams of having.’’

‘‘Henry, I’m so sorry, but I can’t,’’ Barbara said. ‘‘I’ve got my aerobics class. Then I have my piano lesson. Maybe tomorrow.’’

Disappointed, Henry said, ‘‘Sure, sure.’’

Collier spoke. ‘‘You do love a challenge, don’t you, Barb? Ready for a new assignment?’’

‘‘I have plenty of back burners waiting. It’ll be good to get back to them.’’

‘‘Such a busy lady,’’ said Henry, stuck on the wasted evening.

‘‘How about you take over the Strong prelim?’’ Collier said.

‘‘What?’’ said both Barbara and Henry.

‘‘Ah, Henry.’’ Collier turned to face him. ‘‘You hound dog. I know where you are taking us with this, bringing her into the meeting, making such a fuss. You don’t have to convince me. She’s just right for the job.’’

Henry stared at him with growing interest.

‘‘You said yourself, it’s jiggly as gelatin. Turning a case like this over to a less effective prosecutor will doom our chances. You need Barbara. You want the best for this case, and I appreciate that.’’

‘‘Wait a minute! I don’t want that piece of—’’ Barbara said.

‘‘See,’’ Henry said, now completely with the program, his voice rising only slightly, but asserting its rank in the room’s hierarchy with every carefully enunciated syllable, ‘‘Collier just married the defense counsel. We’re in a bind.’’

‘‘Collier! You didn’t!’’

There was real pain in her voice.

‘‘So I’ve decided,’’ Henry said. ‘‘The Strong case is yours.’’ He cleared his throat. ‘‘Okay, we’ve got that thorny problem out of the way. Now come on, Barb, let’s move.’’ He walked over and stood in front of her until she also stood. ‘‘First thing we do is to tell everybody you’re in charge.’’ He put his hand on her back and steered her toward the door.

She folded her arms and stopped in her tracks. ‘‘I don’t think you two are listening to me.’’

Jumping in before Henry got too assertive with her and made her dig in her heels further, Collier said hurriedly, ‘‘Of course, I can appreciate how hard it is to jump into a big case like this. There’s a lot of publicity, a lot of pressure . . .’’

‘‘That isn’t it . . .’’ Barbara began.

‘‘And then, you’d be going up against one of the strongest defense attorneys in town. She’s more experienced than you, and has a reputation for winning weak cases . . .’’

‘‘Are you implying I can’t beat Nina Reilly?’’ asked Barbara, pulling away from Henry to face Collier.

‘‘Not at all.’’

‘‘Yes,’’ she said, looking astonished and angry. ‘‘I believe that’s exactly what you are implying.’’

‘‘Or maybe you’re thinking,’’ Collier steamrolled on,

‘‘that Henry’s putting you in too late because he knows if we make it past the prelim it will be a tough case to win.’’

‘‘I . . .’’ she said.

‘‘Or even that Henry doesn’t have the nuts to go after a man who coldbloodedly stomped his own brother to death. Why? Because he doesn’t want a loss on his record.’’

Henry, standing back from the fray, his arms folded like Barb’s, a smile frozen at the corners of his mouth, looked content to let Collier smear him, if it got them what they both wanted.

Barbara stepped between them, facing Collier. ‘‘You know, Collier, you’ve just insulted me deeply. Even so, you should know better than to think dime-store psychology will make me do something I don’t choose to do. But hey, I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to rescue you from this flimsy case and bag that prelim. That ought to convince you that you are wrong about Henry’s motives. And maybe when you see all that, you will also see that maybe you don’t belong here anymore. It’s a shame. You used to be so good.’’

Henry cocked his eyebrows at him. ‘‘That’s her real strength in or out of court, Collier, wouldn’t you say? She’s not too squeamish to cut through the bullshit. I know I have trouble being so forthcoming. I for one find it very refreshing. Ready, Barb?’’

Collier waited for them to leave the room before allowing himself a sigh of relief. He had done what he could to preserve his position. Too bad the news about his marriage had provoked Barb, but she was a pro. He would work on her, bring her around. Together, they would take Jim Strong down.

Collier smiled at the maitre d’ and let his eyes roam the dining room of the Christiania Inn searching for Nina. He found her knocking back a glass of wine and looking at a picture on the wall. ‘‘Over there in the corner,’’ he told the guy, and made his way through the packed room toward her.

Skiers, skiers everywhere, all sunburned, young, and well heeled. And tipsy on their choices from the superb wine list. The Christiania pulled in the Heavenly crowd with its atmosphere of Scandinavia and sleigh rides. Crystal chandeliers glittered over the laughing faces of the girls.

Nina wore work clothes, but she had taken off her jacket. Her lavender silk blouse hugged her curves, and her hair fell down her back. He didn’t see a briefcase. She must have left it behind in the Bronco for once.

He liked the way she brightened when she saw him. He saw that seeing him could make her happy, and he brightened too.

‘‘And here you are.’’

‘‘Hungry as a bear on the day after trash collection.’’ He bent over to kiss her. She put her arms around him unselfconsciously.

‘‘How are you?’’

‘‘Great, now that I’m with you.’’ He sat down. ‘‘And how are you?’’

‘‘The same. This house sauvignon blanc is great. Want to try some?’’ He nodded, and she motioned to a nearby waiter. ‘‘The same for the gentleman,’’ she said.

‘‘I had no idea how much I would enjoy you ordering for me.’’

‘‘I missed you today,’’ Nina said. ‘‘Whenever I go over to the courthouse, I find myself looking around for you, just to catch a glimpse. I remember a girlfriend of mine haunting the neighborhood when she had a crush on a boy, and I finally understand what that was all about. It’s wonderful to know you’re close by. Did you have a fruitful day?’’

Collier loosened his tie, reminding himself that he mustn’t loosen his tongue. ‘‘Same old shit,’’ he said. ‘‘And you?’’

‘‘The same. Actually, today was tough.’’

‘‘Tell me what you can.’’ His eyes moved down the menu. When he looked back at her, he was surprised to note how troubled she looked.

‘‘It’s so hard not to be able to talk to you. I mean, to tell you everything. Not everything, but—having to watch myself every second to make sure I don’t accidentally say something.’’

‘‘It’s like that with lawyers,’’ Collier said. ‘‘We’re so used to keeping secrets that we even get cagey about what brand of toothpaste we prefer. But I know it’s especially hard between you and me.’’

‘‘Well, let’s try to forget about it tonight,’’ Nina said. ‘‘Let’s talk about the moon and the stars and the snow.’’ She smiled. ‘‘Okay?’’

‘‘For a while,’’ Collier said. ‘‘While we have our dinner. Then there is something I’d like to talk about. No, don’t worry. It won’t wreck your evening, I promise.’’

‘‘I didn’t mean that.’’

They ordered and drank, speaking about things that were as far as possible from their profession. During the meal, they took every opportunity to touch, touching hands, touching feet. At some point, each reached out to the other person to flick off imaginary lint or push a hair back into place. Each landed a kiss on an unoccupied hand.

The salad came, made of unpronounceable greens that tasted of fennel or even anise, and then grilled fish with fresh zucchini and mushrooms. They finished everything and asked for more bread. Their appetites were unfettered with each other.

Collier felt that he had never been so free. He was more and more sure that what he was about to say was right.

Glasses clinked. The voices around them moved like waves, murmuring, then rising, then falling.

The waiter took his time clearing, sweeping crumbs and stacking fussily. He showed them a dessert menu full of scrumptious offerings, which they shook their heads over in dismay.

‘‘Where are we sleeping tonight?’’ Collier said after the waiter had left, clucking over their failure to stuff in a final sweet bite.

‘‘You left a clean shirt at the cabin,’’ Nina said.

‘‘And your bed is so much better.’’

‘‘Yes, but you have the great water pressure in your shower.’’

‘‘It’s just an apartment,’’ Collier said. ‘‘You’ve made the cabin a real home.’’

‘‘You just haven’t had time—’’

‘‘We’re going to live in the cabin, aren’t we?’’ There, it was out. He had started the ball rolling into what was really on his mind.

‘‘I hoped you would want to.’’

‘‘Of course I do. It’s Bob’s home, too.’’ He forged on, noting the heightened flush of her cheeks, and the way she looked up at him, and he filled up with love for her. He tried to sound casual, so that if she took issue with anything he proposed, she would never guess that she was ripping his heart out. ‘‘Why don’t we do the move in January? It’ll take that long to wrap up some loose ends I have lying around. I’ll give notice on the apartment tomorrow. If that sounds okay.’’

‘‘Yes, please, Collier!’’ she said. She had two thumbs under her chin and was resting her elbows on the table. ‘‘You were right. It’s all so simple now.’’

BOOK: Acts of Malice
3.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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