by Parnell Hall
“I murder trials,” Richard said. “Murder cases in court. This one never got there. It was merely a murder investigation. Which are no fun at all.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Well, how do you expect me to feel? I’m a trial lawyer. Court is exciting, flashy, fun. The rest is just work.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to defend me in front of a jury.”
“I’m not. A simple, boring case. Hardly worth the time.”
“I’m sorry if I bored you with it.”
“Not at all. I don’t mind hearing about the case. I just didn’t want to do anything. So the woman confessed. How’d you manage that?”
I told him about the shadowbox lineup.
“And they let you get away with it?”
“Just barely.”
“But they did?”
“Yeah.”
“How come?”
“They wanted to get something on me. Once the doorman identified me as going into the building, that bumped me up to prime suspect. They were willing to let me do anything that might end up having me hang myself.”
“Even so. Taking over the lineup. Telling the witnesses what to do. I’m surprised ADA Reynolds went for it.”
“He wasn’t thrilled. Actually, ADA Fairfield talked him into it.”
“Oh? She was there?”
“Yeah.”
“And she took your side? Went to bat for you?”
“Actually, she did.”
“And that made a difference?”
“Yeah. I think ADA Reynolds would have crucified me.”
“But he listened to her?”
“Yeah, he did.” I exhaled, bit the bullet. “Richard?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem rather fond of ADA Fairfield. So I think you ought to know. The reason he listened to her is he’s her boyfriend.”
Richard raised his eyebrows. “Actually, they’re engaged.”
I stared at him. “You knew that?”
“Well, of course. I’m not the type of lawyer to proceed without precedent. When I noticed how attractive this ADA was, I asked around. Found out she was going with another ADA right here in Manhattan. It was a stroke of luck when he got assigned to the congressman killing, what with you taking such an interest in it. When it looked like you were in trouble, I took her out to dinner, explained the situation, and enlisted her help. She did a number on her boyfriend?”
“She sure did.”
“Well, she better. That was an expensive dinner. Not that I begrudge you, you understand. I do have to eat, and dining with an attractive ADA was far more pleasant than bailing you out of whatever scrape you got in.”
So. The crowning blow. Alice was right again, even when she was just kidding, making jokes about billable hours, and Richard dating an ADA to do me a good turn. Alice was right, and I was a schmuck, thinking I’d done it all by myself like a big boy, not realizing I’d had training wheels on my bike.
I started laughing uncontrollably. I couldn’t stop myself.
Richard stared at me. “Stanley? What is it?”
I waved my hand at him, the way you will when you’re laughing too hard to speak, and someone’s waiting for a response.
“What’s so funny?”
“What you said should decimate me, but it makes my day. It puts everything in perspective. I get by with a little from my friends. Nothing wrong with that.”
He smiled, not understanding.
I couldn’t explain it to Richard. I couldn’t explain it to myself. I couldn’t explain it to Alice, though she could probably explain it to me. But finding out I had a guardian angel guiding me through was just too darn funny.
Not that it made everything all right. Far from it. I still blamed myself for Leslie Hanson’s murder. It would be a long time before I got over that. I probably never will.
But at least I could still laugh at my own foibles.
I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 2010 by Parnell Hall
interior design by Maria Fernandez
This 2012 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media
180 Varick Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
Videos, Archival Documents,
and New Releases
Sign up for the Open Road Media
newsletter and get news delivered
straight to your inbox.
FOLLOW US:
@openroadmedia and
Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia
SIGN UP NOW at
www.openroadmedia.com/newsletters