Ties That Bind (12 page)

“Good morning, Matt. Is this a social call?”

“Afraid not. I’m not allowing contact visits with Dupre. I wanted to tell you in person because I know you’re gonna scream and holler.”

“You got that right. I don’t want to talk to my client through a sheet of bulletproof glass like he’s some sort of animal.”

“Well there’s your problem,” Guthrie answered calmly. “Dupre
is
an animal. The last time we let him have a contact visit with one of your brethren he stabbed him in the eye and cut his throat. I’m not giving him the opportunity to do it again. And before you say it, it’s not because you’re of the female persuasion. I didn’t know who was gonna get stuck with this dreamboat when I made the prohibition.”

“Look, Matt, I appreciate your concern for my safety, but I need to meet face-to-face with Dupre if I’m going to establish trust between us. The first meeting is very important. If he thinks I’m afraid of him he won’t open up to me.”

“I’m not changing my mind on this. One dead attorney on my watch is enough.”

“You can manacle him. And Kate’s with me. She’s an ex-cop and she’s very good at self-defense.”

Guthrie shook his head. “Sorry, Amanda, but I’m sticking to my guns. It’s a noncontact visit or nothing.”

“I can get a court order.”

“You’ll have to.”

Amanda saw that it was useless to argue and she knew that Guthrie meant well.

“I’ll take what I can get, for now, but I’m going right to Judge Robard as soon as I’m through.”

Guthrie nodded. “I expected you would. No hard feelings I hope?”

“This just reinforces my opinion that you’re a narrow-minded redneck,” Amanda said with a smile.

“And proud of it,” Guthrie laughed. Then he sobered. “You watch yourself with this son of a bitch. Don’t let him con you and don’t you let your guard down for an instant. Jon Dupre is very, very dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, Matt. He’s one client I am definitely not going to underestimate.”

“Okay, then.” He stuck out a massive paw, which Amanda shook. “Say hi to your dad for me.”

Guthrie left and Amanda showed the contents of her briefcase to the guard, then went through the metal detector. As she waited for Kate to follow, Amanda had to admit that she was relieved that there would be a concrete wall and bulletproof glass between her and Jon Dupre.

The guard pressed Dupre down onto his chair and left. The jumpsuit her client was wearing was short-sleeved. He placed his manacled hands on the metal ledge, revealing a row of stitches on his right forearm and cuts on the sides of his fingers on both hands.

Amanda forced a smile as she picked up the receiver of her phone and gestured for Dupre to do the same.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.

“I’m Amanda Jaffe and I’ve been asked by the court to be your attorney.”

“Jesus, they sent me a cunt for a lawyer. Why don’t they just give me my lethal injection now.”

Amanda stopped smiling. “You’ve been appointed a cunt for a lawyer, Mr. Dupre, because all the swinging dicks were too scared to take your case.”

“And you’re not?” Dupre said, tapping the receiver against the bulletproof glass.

“The jail commander wouldn’t let us meet face-to-face. As soon as I’m through here, I’m going across the street to the courthouse to get an order forcing him to let us meet in a contact room.”

Dupre pointed the receiver at Kate. “Is she your bodyguard?”

“No, Mr. Dupre. She’s
your
investigator. Now, are you going to keep testing me or can we get down to work? I’ve got a number of questions I’d like to ask you. You’re in a lot of trouble. You murdered a prominent attorney and you’re looking at a very real possibility of a death sentence.”

Dupre sprang to his feet, leaning against the ledge to maintain his balance. Even though there was a wall between them, Amanda pushed her chair back, stunned by Dupre’s sudden rage.

“I didn’t murder anyone and I don’t need a DA’s flunky for an attorney. Get the fuck out.”

“Mr. Dupre,” Amanda shouted into the phone. Dupre smashed the receiver against the glass, struggled to the rear wall, and slammed his manacled hands against the steel door. The door opened and the guard stepped back to let Dupre into the hall that led to his cell. Amanda sagged onto her chair.

“What an asshole,” Kate said.

Amanda gathered her papers, her eyes still on the door through which her client had disappeared.

“What are you going to do now?” Kate asked as she opened the door into the hall.

“I’m going to give Dupre time to cool off while I get a court order from Robard. Then I’ll set up a contact meeting and hope it goes a little better.”

“Good luck.”

“Meanwhile, you and I will draw up a game plan for the trial and the penalty phase.”

Kate pressed the button for the elevator.

“We should spend most of our time on figuring out how to keep the jury from sentencing Dupre to death. I’ve read the police reports. I don’t think that the guilt phase is going to take too long.”

“That’s negative thinking,” Amanda answered with a tired smile. “We don’t do that at Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi.”

“Hey, I’m positive. I’ve even got a few theories of defense. Martians may have beamed powerful thought rays through the concrete walls, which forced Dupre to chop up Mr. Hayes, and the Sci Fi channel had this movie about demonic possession. I’ll write for their research file.”

The elevator took them down to the reception area of the jail. When the doors opened they could see a group of reporters milling around.

“Oh, shit,” Amanda said. “Someone tipped them off.”

The reporters shouted questions at Amanda as she walked through reception. She stopped in the lobby. The lights from one of the TV cameras blinded her for a moment, and she squinted.

“Are you representing Jon Dupre?” one reporter asked.

“Did you meet with him face-to-face?”

Amanda held up her hand and the questions stopped.

“Judge Robard asked me to represent Mr. Dupre and I’ve just come from a meeting with him . . . .”

“Were you frightened?” someone shouted.

“Did Dupre admit that he murdered Senator Travis?”

Amanda waited patiently until the reporters quieted down.

“Those of you who know me know that I believe that the proper place to resolve a matter of this seriousness is in a courtroom and not in the press. So, I won’t be discussing the case with you and I certainly will not reveal any attorney-client communications.”

Several reporters continued to ask questions. Amanda waited patiently for the shouting to subside.

“I’m not going to comment on this case in the press,” Amanda repeated. “I’m sorry, but that’s my position. Let’s go, Kate.”

Amanda and her investigator walked away from the reporters and through the main doors of the Justice Center just as Tim Kerrigan jogged up the stairs from the street. The prosecutor stared for a second as if trying to place her, then smiled when he did.

“Hey, Amanda, it’s been a while.”

“Two years, the Harrison case.”

“In which you were a graceful winner, if I remember correctly.”

“You know my investigator, Kate Ross? She used to be PPB.”

“Sure. You were involved in the Daniel Ames case.”

“That was me,” Kate answered.

The reporters and cameramen had been walking away when they spotted Kerrigan talking to Amanda. They surged toward them like a pack of ravenous wolves.

“What’s with the reporters?”

Amanda looked over her shoulder and grimaced. “I’m handling Jon Dupre’s case.”

“Then we’ve got something in common. I’m prosecuting. Maybe I’ll get to even our record.”

“We’ll see,” Amanda answered without much confidence.

“Mr. Kerrigan,” someone shouted.

“I’ll leave you to your public,” Amanda said.

“Gee, thanks,” Kerrigan answered.

As the reporters closed in on her adversary, Amanda and Kate raced down the stairs and started to put some distance between themselves and the press.

“He’s the jock, right?” Kate asked.

“Not just any jock. He won a Heisman about ten years ago.”

Kate whistled. “How is he in court?” she asked.

“Good. He’s smart and he works very hard.” Then she sighed. “But the way this case is shaping up, he won’t have to break a sweat.”

“Sorry,” he said as he extended a hand. “I was talking with a lawyer in New York about a case we’re cocounseling.”

Amanda pretended to be impressed that Baron was working with a New York lawyer as he led her down a long hall and into a moderate-sized office with a view of the river.

“So, Robard stuck you with Dupre,” Baron said when they were seated.

“I took the case as a favor because no one else would touch it. I’m surprised you aren’t representing Dupre. You’d have gotten a lot of media exposure.”

“Yeah. I can see it now.” Baron held up his hands as if he was a director framing a shot. “oscar baron’s client gets the chair.” He laughed. “Or maybe, mad pimp claims second lawyer victim. Just the kind of publicity I need. Besides, he couldn’t afford my fee.” Baron leaned forward and dropped his voice a notch. “And between us, I’m glad. Poor Wendell.” He looked at Amanda wide-eyed. “There but for the grace of God, huh? I’m telling you, I’ve had nightmares about that little bastard. It could have been me in that room at the jail.”

“You think Dupre might have tried to kill you?”

“Who knows what that lunatic is capable of.”

“Did he threaten you while you were representing him?”

“Well, no, not directly. But the guy is scary. I always felt he was ready to explode. I guess I just got lucky. So, how are you two getting along?”

“We’re at the feeling-out stage. You know how that is.”

“Oh, sure. That’s when they don’t trust you and lie to you. Then you pass that stage and they trust you
and
lie to you.”

Baron barked out a laugh and Amanda forced a smile.

“How long have you been representing Jon?” she asked.

“It was just this one case, but I represented a few of his girls when they got in trouble.”

“The women who worked in his escort service?”

Baron nodded.

“Tell me about the escort-service case.”

“I can’t reveal any confidences without Jon’s okay.”

“Of course, but I’m interested in public knowledge. Information that’s in the police reports. I’ll need copies from you, anyway. I thought you could give me an abridged version now.”

“Why do you need the police reports from the escort case?”

“The penalty phase. I understand that Dupre was rough with some of the women. The DA will try to introduce those incidents as evidence of his propensity to be dangerous in the future.”

“Right, of course.” Baron paused. “You know, that’s a big file. It’s going to cost a lot to make the copies.”

“We’ll pay for the costs, Oscar.”

Baron looked relieved.

“Now about the escort service, how does that work?”

“Exotic Escorts is a pretty simple operation. Jon recruits the girls . . . .”

“How does he do that?”

“You’ve met him. He’s a stud, and he’s smooth. He’ll go to the clubs where young girls hang out. He likes college girls. He’ll pick up a freshman who’s away from home for the first time. He’ll fuck her silly, give her a little coke, and let her hang out in his hot tub. She falls hard for him. That’s when he tells her about his business problem. How he runs this escort service and has this very good client who’s in town for the evening, but the girl who was supposed to go out with this guy is sick. He tells her it’s just like going out on a blind date, then he’ll show his pigeon the jewelry and designer clothes she’ll wear—all knockoffs, of course.”

“Do they realize that they’ll have to have sex with the customer?”

“Jon will be all embarrassed when he tells them about that part. He’ll admit that the guy will probably ask for sex, but he says that it’s up to her. That’s when he mentions how much extra money she can make by doing this little extra favor for him.”

“And this always works?”

“Of course not. But it worked often enough for Jon to build quite a stable. He hooks the girls on the easy money or the coke. He’s clever about not using a girl too often, unless they’re really into it.”

“Don’t the women catch on? Don’t they see he’s using them?”

“Some do.”

“What happens then?”

“He lets them walk away, unless they’re going to cause trouble. Jon can be pretty rough on girls who get out of line.”

“Is the DA going to put on a parade of women who’ll testify that Dupre beat them?”

Baron shrugged.

“How bad does it get?”

“It’s in the reports. Besides, they’re all whores. I would have clobbered them on cross.”

“How does Dupre get clients?”

“The usual way. Some of the concierges at the better hotels are in his pocket. He doesn’t pay them up front, except maybe with a free sample of the goodies.” Baron flashed Amanda a knowing smile, and she wondered how often he’d sampled the goodies. “The real money is in the cut they make on every customer they refer. He has the same deal with the bartenders at the strip clubs.

“Of course, the best advertising is word of mouth, but Jon also runs ads in the singles magazines. You know, ‘Spend a night with your fantasy girl.’ He runs this disclaimer, ‘Legal inquiries only,’ but there’s a nude or two in the ads in a sexy pose that’s worth a thousand words. Most of the time, the customers want to date the girls in the ad. Of course, they’re models, a come-on. Dupre has a girl named Ally Bennett working the phones. She diverts them. She’s really special. Just listening to her is like getting laid.”

“Is she a business partner?”

“Jon doesn’t have a partner. And, if he did, it wouldn’t be a woman. He has no use for women. He despises them. I’m surprised that he’s willing to have a woman represent him.”

Amanda smiled but said nothing.

“So what’s his relationship with Ally Bennett?”

“She’s his go-between. She fields the calls, sends out the girls, and collects the money.”

“He must trust her.”

Baron shrugged. “As much as he trusts anyone. Ally also handles some of Jon’s heavy hitters.”

“Like?”

“Now there we’re getting into attorney-client confidences. Jon will tell you if he wants to. You’d be surprised at some of the names.”

“What’s this costing the customer?”

“There’s a three-hundred dollar call-out fee just to get the girl to the room. Jon made it high to cut out the penny-ante trade. Once the girl arrives, there’s a fee schedule for lap dances or artistic posing. When that’s done, the girl will ask about a tip. That’s a cue for the customer to spell out what he really wants. That brings another fee schedule into play.”

“It sounds like it can get pretty steep.”

“It is. I told you, Jon’s operation is strictly high-end. There’s more money that way and less trouble. The cops are going to think twice before hassling a state senator or a circuit court judge, which means that there’s less chance of feeling heat. And, if some crusader does make a bust, what have the cops got? Jon has Ally record all of the incoming calls, and there she is, telling Mr. Judge that Exotic Escort girls don’t do the nasty for money.”

“What about the girls? They can testify.”

“Sure, but they don’t. If they’re busted, Jon pays the girl’s legal fees, and the penalties for prostitution aren’t stiff enough so the girls will turn.”

“So how did the DA make a case against Dupre?”

“Lori Andrews. She was a single mother and the cops threatened to take her kid away.”

“She was murdered, right?”

“Yeah, that was tragic,” Baron said without real emotion. “When she didn’t show for Jon’s trial, the state had to dismiss. Of course, after what happened with Wendell, Kerrigan probably won’t need much testimony to get a death sentence in this case. Then again, you might get a jury composed of people who hate lawyers. My suggestion: Tell a lot of lawyer jokes during jury selection and choose the folks who laugh the loudest.”