Of course, we are hampered by the fact that we can only practice law where we are licensed, which means Massachusetts, plus, in my case, New Jersey. Barbara does not want to go to New Jersey.
I tell her there are nice towns in Jersey: Short Hills, Saddle River, Princeton, Morristown.
She lists nice towns in Massachusetts: Newton, Wellesley, Weston, Sudbury.
All are places we cannot afford.
We discuss the various district attorney’s offices around the state and acknowledge we will probably be blackballed from all of them.
“Maybe not Worcester,” she suggests. “Or Framingham. There’s a great little town between those two places called Ashland, where I understand they have services for people like Malcolm.”
I am doing my best to get to know Malcolm. I try not to freeze when she mentions his name. I know it will be hard, but I am convinced I can do it. Not because I am paying dues like Peter Martin, but because I am getting stronger, becoming a better person. It may take a long time, but I am committed to trying.
Which is why I am listening to Bill Telford. He comes around now and then, usually right to my house because I don’t go to Pogo’s anymore now that I see Barbara at night. He is disappointed that his announcement, his speech, did not change things.
“The Gregorys have gotten away again,” he tells me. “They are still denying Jamie killed Heidi and the rest of them just go on living their lives the way they always have.”
He wants me to write a book.
I remind him of what Dick O’Connor said, that I don’t really have any hard evidence, any admission, any eyewitness testimony that constitutes proof beyond a reasonable doubt.
He tells me the Gregorys won’t do anything about it except get some family spokesman to deplore the crass innuendos being peddled for money by some failed attorney, some would-be, wannabe socialite. Those aren’t the exact words Bill uses, but it is what he means.
What Bill Telford wants most of all is for everyone to know.
I remind him that not everyone wants everyone to know, that there are people besides the Gregorys who could take legal action: Jason Stockover, Leanne Sullivan, Howard Landry, Lexi Sommers Trotter, just to name a few.
He thinks about it. “In that case,” he says, “change the names.”
TO ANNE, all these years
BY WALTER WALKER
A DIME TO DANCE BY
THE TWO DUDE DEFENSE
RULES OF THE KNIFE FIGHT
THE IMMEDIATE PROSPECT OF BEING HANGED
THE APPEARANCE OF IMPROPRIETY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
WALTER WALKER is a San Francisco trial attorney, specializing in catastrophic personal injury matters, and the author of five previous novels, including the award-winning A Dime to Dance By. Originally from Massachusetts, he has homes on Cape Cod and in Marin County, California. He is a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania, and the University of California, Hastings College of the Law.
Crime of Privilege: A Novel Page 39