Rough Justice (41 page)

“What? What the fuck do I care?” Bennie fumed, her jacket flying as she charged ahead. “What the fuck difference does it make? You tried to stab the man!”

“I wouldn’t have gone though with it. I didn’t, did I?”

“Oh, please. Only because I stopped you. You could have stabbed
me
!”

A passing nurse glanced over nervously and quickened her pace. Marta whispered, “I didn’t even know you were there. How did I know you’d jump in front of him?”

“I wasn’t gonna let you
kill
him.” They reached the elevator bank and Bennie punched the up button. “You could have known that, couldn’t you? First rule of solo practice. Do not kill the clients. They don’t come back, for one thing.”

“I already said I’m sorry. What else can I do? Open a vein?”

“I should’ve left you in jail. In another hour they would’ve brought out the rubber hose.
I
would have brought out the rubber hose.”

“I said, “Thank you.’” Marta rolled her eyes. “Listen to me. “Thank you.’ ‘Sorry.’ ‘Please.’ I’m like a fucking Hallmark card.”

Bennie started hitting the elevator button like a video game. It made a
clikclikclik
sound. “I should’ve let you rot there.”
Clikclikclik
. “Let you wait for a public defender.”
Clikclikclik
. “Thrown you to the press.”
Clikclikclik
. “Sent you up for Bogosian.”

“That was self-defense. They knew it, they were just working me over.”

“And what about the jury tampering, huh? You owe me big-time on that. Community service?”
Clikclikclik
. “You know what, I’m charging you. I’m billing you for my fucking time.”
Clikclikclik
. “Where is the goddamn elevator?”

“Okay, fine. Bill me, no problem. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Marta said, meaning it. She’d have a lot of time on her hands in the next few years. She might buy a house, fix it up, and actually live in it. But she’d need to do a little legal work on the side, if only to prevent ring rust. “You know, I’ve been thinking that you might need help getting the firm back up on its feet.”

Clikclikclik.
“If I even have a firm anymore.”

“You do. You will.”

Clik.
“Hmph.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help rebuild Rosato and Associates. It’s the least I can do. Draft briefs. Teach the associates.” The elevator arrived and the doors slid apart. “Behind the scenes, you know.”

“You?” Bennie’s mouth dropped open. “You? Stay in Philadelphia?”

Marta began to laugh as the doors closed, and the sound of her laughter echoed all the way up the shaft.

Marta and Bennie stood at the threshold to Mary’s hospital room. The associate had been moved out of intensive care and her condition was finally stable. Mary looked drawn against the thin hospital pillows, and an IV snaked to a shunt in her arm. The DiNunzio family surrounded her like an embrace, and Judy sat among them. She grinned tiredly when she saw Bennie and Marta. “Hey, guys, isn’t this cool?” Judy said. “Mary’s alive.”

Bennie smiled with relief. “Wonderful. That’s how I like my associates. Breathing.”

“It’s the only way they get any work done,” Marta said, leaning against the doorjamb. “By the way, they are hired back, aren’t they?”

Judy held her breath. Mary blinked.

Bennie thought a minute. What ran in her veins, ice? “If they got a license, they got a job,” she said, and Mary smiled to herself.

It’s not a job, it’s an adventure.

Rough Justice
is a work of fiction, but a number of people helped enormously with the research and I want to thank them here. Any mistakes are entirely my own.

First and very special thanks to Mayor of Philadelphia Ed Rendell and his former chief of staff, David Cohen. I am a huge fan of these two men, who have worked wonders for my favorite city and inspired all of us. They permitted me access to the mayor’s office and to other areas of City Hall for this book, and David Cohen gave generously of his time, energy, and intelligence, as is typical of him. Thanks, too, to Robin Schatz, for the insider’s tour, and to Ginny Kehoe.

Thank you to Larry Fox, president of the Litigation Section of the American Bar Association, who helped with the ethical questions herein, and thank you to criminal defense experts Frank DiSimone, Glenn Gilman, Burton Rose, and Mike Trigani for their on-the-spot advice.

Thank you to the detectives of the Homicide Division of the Philadelphia Police Department, who continue to help me in so many ways and gave me the coolest sweatshirt ever. Thanks to Mark McDonald of the
Philadelphia Daily News
, who took me through the lovely press area in City Hall and spent time teaching me about newspapers and how they work. Thanks to Dr. Andrea Hanaway, an emergency surgeon who taught me the details of some truly heinous injuries.

Thank you to Richard Clark, Jr., a farrier who answered all my stupid questions while trying to reset the shoe on a cranky mare. Thanks to all at Thorncroft Equestrian Center, for all of their good work, and especially to Diana Johnson, who teaches me about horses and life.

Thank you to Kevin Sparkman of the DVTO, who helped me a great deal. Also, thank you, Chuck Jones, for your friendship, hunting advice, and general expertise. I also want to acknowledge a fascinating translation of Sun-Tzu by J. M. Huang, which served as a source for
Rough Justice
.

Equally important as the research is the writing, and I had experts to help with that, too. Heartfelt thanks to president and CEO at HarperCollins, Anthea Disney, to my editor, Carolyn Marino, and to my agent, Molly Friedrich of the Aaron Priest Agency. I marvel constantly at the brilliance, talent, and generosity of these women, who are like literary Power Rangers. They improved this manuscript in countless ways, and supported me throughout all. I am the luckiest author in the world to be able to tap their time and expertise. I can’t thank them enough and won’t bore the rest of you by going on longer here.

Thanks, too, to Paul Cirone, Molly’s assistant, for his hard work and terrific sense of humor, and to Carolyn’s assistant, Robin Stamm, who understands the importance of the comma. Special thanks to production editor Andrea Molitor, who cared enough to get it right.

Thank you to Gene Mydlowski, associate publisher, for his efforts and eye, and to Laura Leonard, publicity manager, who, besides being a dynamo on her job, is one of the sweetest people in the world. Thanks to Laura’s assistant Caroline Enright, too.

Personal thanks and love to my family and friends, as well as my husband, Peter, and daughter, Kiki. They had to put up with pizza for dinner while I wrestled with this book and, worse yet, they had to put up with me.

Lisa Scottoline is a New York Times best-selling author and former trial lawyer. She has won the Edgar Award, the highest prize in suspense fiction, and the Distinguished Author Award, from the Weinberg Library of the University of Scranton. She has served as the Leo Goodwin Senior Professor of Law and Popular Culture at Nova Southeastern Law School, and her novels are used by bar associations for the ethical issues they present. Her books are published in over twenty languages. She lives with her family in the Philadelphia area and welcomes reader email at www.scottoline.com.

The Vendetta Defense
Moment of Truth
Mistaken Identity
Legal Tender
Running from the Law
Final Appeal
Everywhere That Mary Went