A Game of Inches

by Webb Hubbell

  “The bugging of the offices and phones may not be related to Billy Hopper at all. We made lots of enemies in both the Cole and Stewart cases. I also have several major antitrust cases pending where the opponents might be trying to gain an advantage by tapping our phones. It’s also possible someone doesn’t want me to represent the Lobos. But the use of a sniper seems an unlikely antitrust strategy. So far my regular law practice hasn’t been deleterious to my health. I have to believe the sniper’s warning was an effort to get me to back off representing Billy.

  “The way I see it I have three options. First, I can hide until Monday, offer to help Marshall find Billy a lawyer, and hold a press conference to that effect. Back to business as usual.”

  “Sounds like a good option to me,” said Maggie.

  “I thought it would, but you promised to hear me out,” I reminded her.

  She frowned, and I continued.

  “I can also tell Marshall I’m all in, effectively telling whomever to go jump in the lake. The problem is I don’t think they’re bluffing. That sniper could have killed me the other night, and if whoever wants to get nasty he could make me pay a terrific price for my defiance. Beth and Carol are obvious targets. Maggie, I hate to say this, but you are, too. If something happened to any of you I couldn’t live with myself.

  “The third option is to behave as though I’m scared shitless: go into hiding, and spend the next two weeks trying to figure out what really happened at the Mayflower that night. I would need your help, especially Stella’s when it comes to setting up a communication system. We would all have to be very careful not to give away the game. Stella has to help Walter’s company clean up their systems, while Clovis acts like he’s on a vacation with his girlfriend. Maggie has to run the office without letting on that she is in constant communication with me.”

  Clovis said, “I see several problems right off the bat.”

  “Let’s hear them.” I meant it.

  “To begin with: Marshall. How are you going to convince him this is a doable plan? He’s convinced Billy is innocent. Why wouldn’t he simply hire a different counsel?”

  “I’m pretty sure that when he hears I was almost murdered, he’ll try to get me to back off. My job is to convince him otherwise. If he doesn’t agree, we go back to Maggie’s favorite option.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Okay, your plan presumes that there’s more to that night than the prosecutor knows, that in fact Billy’s innocent, and that in just two weeks we can figure out not only who killed that woman but why. Why two weeks, and what makes you think you know more than the prosecutor?” Clovis asked.

  “I don’t think I can pull off this disappearing act for more than two weeks. No matter how careful we are, whoever is bound to smell something fishy before long. I know that if we haven’t made any progress in two weeks, we need to get Billy a different lawyer.’”

  “Okay, what about Billy? He’s our best source of information, but no one can interview him except a lawyer. Marshall can’t help. How are we going to get information from him? Only a lawyer can talk to him in confidence.”

  I gave him a slow grin and he said, “No way.”

  “Can you think of a better option?”

  Maggie interrupted, “You can’t talking about…”

  Clovis smiled. “Yup. The wildcat.”

  Stella asked. “Who are you two talking about?”

  Maggie gave me a really dirty look. “Micki. He means Micki.”

  “She’ll hardly speak to you—how are you going to get her to come to DC, much less represent Billy? I know you two were close once, but…” Clovis trailed off, fearing he’d gone too far.

  “I’m pretty sure it will involve begging on my part.” In fact, I had no idea how I would manage any of this.

  Maggie relented a little. “Okay, if you intend to represent Billy, your plan makes some sense, but let’s go back to why you would agree to represent him in the first place. From what I can tell the evidence is pretty compelling, and what he did is frankly quite repulsive. I love Marshall, but at this point his loyalty to this young man is hard to understand.

  “Your one-hour conversation with him, when he couldn’t even deny committing the murder, is hardly reason enough to take on the case. I know you believed him, but you’ve been fooled before, remember?”

  She was right, of course, but I wasn’t ready to give in just yet.

  “Your argument makes perfect sense, and frankly he might have done it; every bit of evidence points that way. But if that were the case, why would anyone care if an antitrust lawyer, not known for his criminal expertise, represents him? Why bug this office and our phones? Why hire a sniper to warn me off?

  “Come to think of it, why would Lucy’s Robinson’s fiancé offer me, out of the blue, a lucrative contract to represent his football team almost immediately after the murder and a day before I met with Marshall. I can’t exclude the possibility of a connection between Red and the murder.”

  Maggie interjected, “If you’re thinking that way, you have to ask why the sudden interest in you by Ms. Madison. I believe you told me she is on Red Shaw’s payroll?”

  Maggie had cut right to the bone, and it hurt.

  “Can you imagine I haven’t asked myself that question? I’m not blind to the fact that she arrived on the scene at Lucy’s party. I’m not blind to her relationship with Red Shaw. But she was right there in that water with me—she could easily have been killed. Maybe I’m a fool, but I can tell you that I don’t think she’s involved.”

  I stared at her, aware of no one except the two of us.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said, and the room came back into focus, “That wasn’t fair of me. I’m sure there’s no connection.”

  “But there could be. We can’t ignore the possibility.” Clovis looked miserable, and I let him off the hook.

  “It’s okay—I know we can’t. So I have one more thing for you all to consider—if I go forward, you may all be in danger, not just me. That includes you, Stella. You are going to be thwarting highly skilled hackers who may not take kindly to your expertise. How do you feel about that?”

  Clovis just laughed. “I learned two years ago that working for you was dangerous and to expect the unexpected, but Jack, I’ll say this: you’re never boring. Don’t worry, I’m in.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying make sure the Matthew’s companies and y’all are free from computer espionage. Now some bastard’s trying to crack my code. I want to find out who he is and repay the favor. Besides, if Clovis is in danger he needs me to protect him.” Stella blew him a kiss.

  “Maggie?” I asked.

  “I’m not happy, but then again you didn’t expect me to be. Of course I’m in. I’m not about to let you go off half-cocked without me. But I’ll have to let Walter know.”

  “Of course. Walter’s always a part of any crazy scheme I come up with.” My team was assembled save one, a critical one—Micki Lawrence.

  Clovis said, “Tell me again how you’re going to convince Micki to join up.”

  “I didn’t tell you the first time. Micki’s going to take some time to figure out. Let’s talk about what we need to learn based on what I know so far.”

  33

  I BEGAN WITH the question no one, not even the prosecutor, could answer: who was the girl in the bedroom? Was she one of the girls at the NFL Honors banquet? Did she have any connection with Billy or was she someone off the streets? Who else might have had a reason to murder her? And what had happened to the girls who left the banquet with Billy? Who were they and what did they remember? There hadn’t been word one about them in the press so far. I would have expected at least one of them to have appeared on a talk show by now.

  Clovis would take the lead on these issues. Stella would set up a secure line of communications for herself, Clovis, Maggie, myself, and hopefully Micki. She would also try to discover who was trying to listen in on our conversations and hack our computers. Maggie would
hold down the fort, acting as our go-between as well as keeping up our subterfuge. I would do my best to disappear.

  Disappearing while actually working isn’t that easy—we’d all have to be on our toes. I had a plan to get Marshall into Barker’s so we could talk in person on Monday. Maggie would talk to Beth once the phones were secure.

  I suggested that the three of them should go have a nice lunch while I called Micki. I needed the privacy, and it would help if they were seen in public without me.

  Micki picked up on the first ring.

  “Twice in one week, you must be horny.” Sounded more like the Micki I knew.

  “Micki, I need your help,” I began.

  “Jack, I already told you I won’t help you represent that murderer.”

  “I don’t want you to help me. I want you to represent him all on your lonesome.”

  “Jack, have you been eating Liz Stewart’s ginger snaps?”

  “No, I’m quite serious.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. Why in the hell would I represent a man who stabbed a woman multiple times until she bled to death?”

  At least she hadn’t hung up.

  “What if I told you I honestly believe he didn’t do it?” I asked.

  “Every client I have claims he didn’t do it—most of them were shooting baskets with their buddies or babysitting their kid sister. Since when did you become a good judge of character?”

  “What if I told you there’s a fee in it. The client has money.”

  “I’d say my docket is full.” Now she was having fun.

  “What if I said this case will garner national publicity, increase your reputation.” I had to admit I was having fun as well.

  “You’ve already involved me in two of the highest profile cases in this decade. I don’t need any more publicity.”

  It was time to get serious.

  “What if I tell you someone shot at me with a high profile rifle to warn me off this case? What if I tell you I can’t guarantee your safety, and I’m going underground for the next two weeks?”

  No quick comeback this time.

  “If someone tried to kill you it would be all over the news. How come I haven’t read anything about this in the papers or seen anything on TV? If you’re making this up, it’s not funny.”

  “I’m not lying, Micki, and it isn’t funny. A sniper fired a bullet within three inches of my head. Damn near killed me.”

  Another long pause. “Where’s Clovis?”

  “He and Stella arrived this morning on Walter’s plane. The same plane can pick you up tomorrow morning.”

  “What about Beth? Is she safe?”

  “Paul was dispatched to New Orleans last night. He’s supervising her protection as we speak—ask Debbie.”

  Micki’s office manager, Debbie Petrova, and Paul live together. I could almost hear her thinking.

  “Are you leaving the country?”

  “No, I’m not even leaving town, but no one other than Maggie, Clovis, and Stella know where I’ll be. Everyone else is supposed to think I’ve left town. I’m even putting my house up for sale.”

  “You should leave the country, Jack.”

  “Maggie agrees with you.”

  “Maggie has good sense; obviously you don’t. If I get involved, there will be nothing between us, just partners working on this case, right? No flirting?”

  “None. Actually, I’m seeing someone.” It felt odd to say that, especially to Micki, but it was the truth—I hoped.

  “Wow, I want to meet her. What if I bring someone with me?”

  “I’d rather you didn’t. He couldn’t know anything except that you are representing Billy at Marshall’s request.”

  “His name is Larry. He’s an artisan woodworker and carpenter who’s been doing some work on the place. He could care a hoot about my day job.”

  Well, at least she was over Eric.

  “That’s your call. But you really can’t tell him anything. And he needs to understand he could be in danger.”

  “What about Marshall? What does he think??”

  “Well, I haven’t actually approached him yet. Didn’t want to until I had a plan with you on board. But Marshall suggested you should be my co-counsel just last Thursday, before any of this happened. Apparently I didn’t impress him with my knowledge of criminal law during the Cole case.”

  She laughed. “I guess not.”

  It was time to fish or cut bait. “Micki, I need you. Can I send Walter’s plane to pick you up tomorrow morning.”

  I could hear the wheels turning.

  “Oh, what the hell. You had me at hello.”

  So, the team was assembled, for exactly what, I wasn’t certain. I spent the next hour explaining what had happened over the last few days.

  34

  MAGGIE, STELLA, AND Clovis had enjoyed flatbread sandwiches at Cosi and returned in a great mood. They were all relieved that Micki had joined our gang of thieves. Maggie called Walter’s pilot to make arrangements. We decided that for the time being Micki should stay at the Hay-Adams, despite the expense. It would be the natural choice if she was working with Marshall.

  “Stella, why don’t you and Clovis have brunch there tomorrow? It’s quite a spread. I have a feeling that if someone is spying on me, they’ve bugged Marshall’s room at the Hay-Adams. Hotel security should be cooperative if you tell them you’re working for Marshall and a new guest arriving tomorrow.”

  We spent the rest of the afternoon going over details and logistics. Directing a criminal investigation from Barker’s wouldn’t be easy, but it was important for our antagonist to think I had fled the coop, so to speak.

  Martin returned from Carol’s place just before Clovis and Stella left for the Apple store and some other specialty electronics store.

  He’d found only a few traces of the sniper, who according to Martin must have been an excellent shot given the distance the bullet had to travel. Great. The hot tub had been totally repaired, and Carol’s guests didn’t have a clue what had occurred the previous evening. Paul told him that Carol was in good spirits, but would love to hear from me if possible.

  It was possible, but not smart. Martin also learned that Red Shaw was a last minute guest. Not Lucy, just Red. That was news I didn’t want to know. What did it mean?

  Soon I was the only one left in the office except for my driver. Maggie and Walter were attending some charity event for the homeless. Stella and Clovis had planned a trip to Cantler’s for fresh crabs after going shopping. But for the sniper, I would be snuggled up with Carol at her place on the Eastern Shore watching a first run movie. I admit to enjoying a little pity party.

  I finally talked with Beth. Paul had calmed her down, and she, Jeff, and Paul were enjoying the Crawfish Music Festival at Tulane. Paul must have done his job, because she made no mention of coming to DC. I hung up thinking about crawfish.

  After tomorrow’s meeting with Micki, all my communication with my team would be by phone or email. I’m a hands-on lawyer, and pulling strings from afar isn’t my idea of fun. I was looking at a tough couple of weeks.

  To some extent I was allowing the sniper to govern the way I worked, but I couldn’t bear it if I put Carol, Beth, or Maggie at further risk. Besides, if this plan didn’t work all I had to do was walk out the door.

  It was time to leave the office. I had an outline of things to go over with Micki, and had begun to think about what I would say to Marshall. Walter, who also belonged to Barker’s, would bring Marshall to meet with me on Monday

  Barker’s was pretty empty for a Saturday night. I couldn’t face the dining room alone, so I sat at the bar. I would need to make good use of their fitness room if I kept this up. I munched on nachos, tried to watch the ball game, listened to two men talk about their fantasy baseball picks, and thought about Carol Madison.

  *****

  Mr. Kim was more than a little surprised that Patterson had heeded the warning shot. He was a doer, not a quitter. But his source had
verified that he’d left Ms. Madison’s place, gone directly home, packed his bags, and was now missing in action. He’d even talked to a Realtor about putting his home on the market this morning. Maybe Patterson was finally tired of putting his life on the line for his clients.

  Nonetheless, he wasn’t taking chances. His contacts were monitoring the man’s credit card accounts in the hopes of determining his whereabouts. Patterson was most vulnerable when he felt someone close to him was at risk. He was putting people in place to monitor Patterson’s daughter, Mrs. Matthews, and Ms. Madison in case he needed to move quickly.

  Carol Madison may have been why Patterson took off. Perhaps he was closer to her than original reports. If Patterson surfaced, Madison might prove to a very interesting chess piece. The client had made it clear—under no circumstances was Patterson to represent Hopper. The sniper had been directed to remain under cover in DC, prepared to terminate Patterson immediately if the client gave the order.

  He had yet to deal with one annoying problem. As expected, Clovis Jones’s had sent his man Paul to New Orleans to babysit Patterson’s daughter. No problem in itself, but underworld activity in New Orleans was still controlled by a syndicate modeled after the days of Nitti and Capone. His operatives would need a “license” to work in New Orleans, and any hits needed to be pre-approved. This was an issue he needed to address quickly.

  * * *

  SUNDAY

  * * *

  April 24, 2016

  35

  I NEVER SLEEP well the first night in a strange bed. Around 6:30 I finally quit fighting and headed for my favorite meditation spot—the shower. Barker’s showers were roomy and had great water pressure, a luxury most hotels don’t appreciate. I donned my lucky golf shirt and slacks, enjoyed a long breakfast over the Sunday New York Times, and headed to the office. The garage was empty, as was most of downtown. Except during the Cherry Blossom Festival, everyone but the most dedicated tourists slept in on Sunday mornings.