Grave Apparel (48 page)

“Fascinating,
Brooke.
I
knew
you were the right person to

ask about the subtle nuances of interpersonal dynamics among
lawyers.”

“You’re
so right!”
Brooke
laughed. “I’m
listening.”

“And
it’s
not for publication by
DeadFed.”
Lacey
paused.
“Attorneyclient
privilege.”
Brooke
rolled her
eyes
in silent as sent. “Cassandra
Wentworth
woke
up
today.
Mac made me go see
her.
She
asked
for me. Of all
people.”

“Wow.
Quel
scoop. And? Can she nail the bastard who at
tacked
her? Did she
know
who it
was,
can she name him, or
was
it just some random madman? An
evil
dwarf?”

“She
doesn’t
remember a
thing,”
Lacey
said. “Or at least so she said this
afternoon.”

“Damn! Did you get
anything
at all?”

“Yeah,
I
got
plenty. I
got
insulted
by
Cassandra,
so
the
knock on the head
hasn’t
improved
her
personality.
I got
volun
teered by Mac to—”

“Investigate,
of
course,
to
collar
the
creep
who
cracked
Cas
sandra’s
cranium.”

“Her
friends
call
her
Cassie.”
Lacey
opened
her
eyes.
“Rhymes
with
Lassie.
Like
she’s
a
friendly
frecklefaced
kid
with a big dog.
Well,
there is a big dog. But she
doesn’t
seem
anything
like
a
Cassie
to
me.
She
doesn’t
even
look
like
a
Cassie.”

“She
has
actual
friends?
I
thought
perhaps
she
had
only
comrades. Coconspirators.
Fellow
travelers.”

“Oh,
they
are all that too.
They
ambushed
me coming out of
Cassandra’s
hospital room. Three of them, all
lawyers,
and
they
all
work
for this
environmental
thing, Garrison of Gaia, or did. One of them has apparently left the fold. I thought you might
have
heard of
them.”

“Garrison
of
Gaia.”
Brooke
nodded.
“GOG,
although
some
call
it
GAG,
as
in
gag
me.
They’re
like
those
people
who
break
into
laboratories
to
free
the
puppies.
Only
these
people
are
not
about
the
puppies,
to
hell
with
the
damned
puppies,
they’re
all
about
the
Earth,
dude,
love
it
or
like,
you
know,
bleeping
leave
it.”
“I got that
they’re
fairly
extreme.”
Lacey noticed the
tow
trucks were
moving
the last of the limousines.
“And
humorless, which is
worse.”

“Much
worse.
I’m not saying
they’re
always
wrong neces
sarily,
but
humorless? A
fatal
flaw.
Now,
names!”
Brooke
com manded. “I need
names.”

“Alex
Markham.”

“Hmmm.”
Brooke
fiddled
with her long blond braid, which
was
coming loose, and then tossed it
over
her
shoulder.
“I
know
an
Alexander
Markham, must be the same. Reasonably cute,
but
politically in the deep
woods.
Not the brightest
bulb
on the
Christmas
tree.
Sort
of
an
alternative
lawyer,
the
kind
who
doesn’t
even
own
a suit,
even
a bad one, it
would
be selling out to the System.
Tree
hugger.
Rumored to be a
cokehead.
Does some pro bono cases, usually
badly.
Never
seen him in a suit. Suits
don’t
work
well for hugging trees. Except
lawsuits.”
Her
eyes
lit up.
“You
could write a ‘Crimes of
Fashion’
column:
Lawyers
without suits!
Stuffed
shirts without the shirts! Brief cases without the briefs!”

“Stop,
stop,
I
have
unattractive
pictures
in
my
head.”
Never
theless,
Lacey
pulled
out
her
notebook
and
started
making
notes.
“Markham’s
a
cokehead,
really?
And
why
does
the
name
Henderson
Wilcox
sound
familiar
to
me?
Expensive
suit?
A
lit
tle too tight?
Like
his briefs?”

“Ah,
Wilcox.
Sure
you’ve
heard the name.
He’s
the
ne’er
dowell
little
brother
of
Senator
Pendleton
Wilcox,
whom
I think of
affectionately
as Senator Snidely Whiplash. Actually not so
affectionately.”
Brooke
mimed twirling a sinister mus tache. “Square head,
evil
eyes,
big teeth
like
a
wolf?”

“Okay,
now
I
know
him.
I’ve
seen the political cartoons in the
paper.
You
don’t
like
Senator Whiplash?”

“I do
like
him, for comic relief.
He’s
a major
reactionary,
and not in a good
way.
His bills
never
get out of committee. Al though I
have
to
make
a point to remember his name is
Wilcox.
I’ve
actually almost called him Senator Whiplash a couple of
times.”

Some
of
Cassandra’s
editorials
against
Senator
Wilcox
were
coming back to
Lacey,
along with the
words
“fatuous”
and “de luded.”
“Alex
Markham
apparently
hates
this
Henderson
Wilcox
character because he left the
nonprofit
to go to a big K Street
firm,”
Lacey
said.
“Went
over
to the Dark Side is the
way
I heard
it.”

“Wow,
so Baby Whiplash made it out of the
nonprofit
salt mine.
Interesting.”
Brooke
mulled this
over.
“And
here you are
talking
to
the
Dark
Side
over
espresso!
My
take
on
why
Hen
derson
Wilcox
had
a
job
with
Garrison
of
Gaia
in
the
first
place? Must
have
been a pity placement. Probably no one else

would
take
him on right out of
law
school.
They
might not
even
have
paid him, or not much. Another pro bono
baby.
Works
for free, and
worth
every
penny.
Also maybe he
wanted
to
throw
a slap at his big brother by laboring for the
loony
left.
Couldn’t
have
been a matter of principle. Between you and me,
from
what
I’ve
seen of him
he’s
not that bright and he has no real moral
convictions.
Runs in the
family.”

“If
that’s
so, then why
would
a big
law
firm
take
him on
now?”

“This
new
job?
Well,
big brother
is
a
Senator.
Probably big brother had enough embarrassment, got sick of little brother
working
for eco
wackos.
Had a
word
in
someone’s
ear.
Do a Senator a
favor,
get a
favor
back. Henderson is the embarrass ing
brother,
you
know
the type. Politics is full of
awkward
sib lings. Somebody has to
take
them
in.”

Lacey stretched. She ran her hands through her
hair.
“So
what’s
your
take
on
these
two
guys?
Are
they
capable
of
assault?”
“Personally,
Lacey,
I think Markham has the political smarts of the tree toad that he
loves
so well. But his charm is razor thin.
He’s
a
snake.
And in the case of poor
Wilcox,
the gene pool is just too
shallow.
I wouldn’t
believe
a word either
of
them said,
even
under oath. But as for attacking someone in an
alley
with a blunt instrument? Neither one
strikes
me as partic
ularly
physical
and
aggressive.
But
who
knows
what
evil
lurks?
Now,
didn’t
you say there
was
another one?”

“A
woman.
She and
Alex
Markham and Cassandra are all housemates. And apparently
Wilcox
is an old
boyfriend
of Cas
sandra’s
who seems to be
guiltstricken
that he
wasn’t
there to protect
her.
Have
you heard of
Wendy
Townsend?”

“Oh
yes.
The
woman
voted
most
likely
to
spend
a
year
in
a
tree
without
a
clue.”
Brooke
snickered.
“What
was
your
impression?”
“She stunned me with a toxic cloud of perfume. What do you think of her?”