The Last Chance Lawyer

by William Bernhardt

  He remained silent.

  “And I would be willing to bet that more than once you’ve suspected your clients were guilty. But you still represented them.”

  “Everyone is entitled to a fair trial. Without a fair trial, we can’t make an equitable determination of someone’s guilt. And unless someone is represented by counsel, they haven’t had a fair trial.”

  “I understand the rationales. And here’s mine. Projects like this beautiful park benefit everyone. So I’m going to be less concerned about who finances it.”

  “The ends justify the means?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. I would say ignoring donors like Luis benefits no one and changes nothing. But taking advantage of their financial clout could help people all across the city.”

  “Did you know Jorge Sanchez? The victim?”

  “Only what I’ve read. Sounds like a slimy character.”

  “You haven’t had any contact with prostitution rings?”

  Kazan seemed genuinely disturbed. “Why the hell would I? What do you think I am?”

  He held up his hands. “I don’t mean to offend. But I have to ask all the questions. That’s my job.”

  “If I had a job like that, I’d be looking for a new line of work. No, I don’t have anything to do with sex trafficking. That doesn’t interest me at all.”

  “But if Sanchez had come to you with a big check, you would’ve taken it.”

  Kazan’s face flushed. “Not someone as disgusting as that. I would never ever ever take his money.”

  “So drug dealers are okay, but you draw the line at sex traffickers.”

  He could see Kazan was getting angry. “I don’t know why you’re coming down on me. You’re the one representing the assassin.”

  His eyebrows knitted. “I was originally engaged to represent Gabriella in an adoption.”

  “And that never struck you as a bit contrived?”

  Was Kazan trying to get his goat? Revenge for the sex-trafficking remark? “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Tell me if I’ve got the facts straight. Two days after the shooting, she talks to you about adoption and gets you to file a petition for her.”

  “True.”

  “But when you talked with her, did she ever once mention that she’d been at the scene of a major shootout?”

  “Well...”

  “Did she mention her gun? Her expertise with that gun?”

  “It didn’t come up.”

  “Do you think that might be relevant to the adoption? And yet she purposefully withheld that information. Why do you think she did that, Mr. Self-Righteous Lawyer?”

  He had no answer.

  “Maybe before you run around making accusations, you should ask yourself what exactly you’re representing in that courtroom.”

  Chapter 26

  The man sitting in darkness crumpled the report in his hands.

  Who did that arrogant lawyer think he was?

  He hadn’t worried at first, when he learned that Gabriella would be represented. He had expected it to be a public defender, but whatever. This slick-ass lawyer wouldn’t be any better. He’d milk it for fees, then run. No one could get her off the hook. This honey trap was too deep for anyone to claw their way out.

  But Pike had proven particularly resilient. He seemed to have an unerring instinct for deciphering who he needed to talk to, what stones to overturn. He was more than a token lawyer. He was a serious threat.

  Something had to be done about him.

  He could have Pike killed easily enough, but that might make matters worse. The trial would be delayed, and he didn’t want that. He just needed Pike to get a message. A strong one. He needed to calm down. Lose some of his crusading zeal.

  The best way to motivate or persuade someone, of course, was to determine what they most wanted. What did Pike want? He knew Pike got into this mess by helping that girl who wanted to be adopted. Was he in it for the girl? Fine. If the girl was what motivated him, let’s give him a reason to think hard about what’s in her best interest. It would be easy enough to get to her.

  No one was really watching that detention center.

  He’d dealt with lawyers before. They were all canker sores, barnacles on the hull of life. Pike needed to understand they weren’t playing games here. If he didn’t care about himself, maybe he’d care about someone else. And if the girl wasn’t enough, he could go after the partners, or the client, the boat, the car, or blow up the whole damn office. Find his parents, siblings, friends—whatever it took. He was accustomed to taking decisive action. It was his job, really. And he was very good at his job.

  He smiled, his fingers drumming on the countertop.

  So many choices these days. What was the best way to send a package?

  Chapter 27

  Dan peered at the bound-and-indexed folder in his hands, feeling nothing but admiration. “Maria, you have done a sensational job.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. I’ve never seen such a detailed trial map.”

  “I tried to find one of your old trial maps to use as a model.”

  “Good luck with that. I hate paperwork.”

  She nodded. “And you didn’t have anyone to do it for you. Because you always worked alone.”

  He flipped through the pages. “You’ve thought through every foreseeable contingency here.”

  “Oh, I guarantee there will be surprises at trial. There always are. But we can try to minimize them. I told you long-range planning, strategy, was my forte.”

  “And you were right.”

  All four Last-Chance Lawyers sat in the living room area, thinking through their plans on the eve of trial.

  “Does that mean you’re not gonna kick us to the curb?” Jimmy asked.

  “Can he do that?” Garrett replied. “I don’t think we can be pitched. I think he can only pitch himself.”

  “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” Jimmy asked again. “You wouldn’t leave just after we got hitched?”

  “Well, don’t register us at Pottery Barn yet.”

  “But seriously. We like having you around.”

  He shrugged. “You just want a fourth for your Gloomhaven game.”

  “True. But that doesn’t mean you’re not indispensable.”

  “Your knowledge of this community is indispensable. I’ll admit, when Mr. K first told me that you knew everyone and had connections that would be of great assistance, I was dubious. But he was right. I would never have been able to get in to see the people you got me in to see—at least not without a subpoena, and once that issues, everybody’s tongue gets tied real quick.”

  Jimmy feigned modesty. “I do what I can.”

  “And that business with the court clerk? Brilliant. Possibly illegal. But brilliant.”

  Jimmy held a vertical finger across his lips. “Hush.”

  “What’s this?” Maria said. “What secrets have I not heard about yet?”

  Jimmy smiled. “That’s why they’re called secrets. I delivered your pies, by the way. Shawna was quite grateful. Seemed a little nervous, but she wanted to know all about the case. Kept me talking for twenty minutes. I think we made a friend for life, Dan.”

  “You can never have enough of those. And while I’m at it, Garrett, I stayed up late last night reading your research folder. First-rate. I feel prepared to handle whatever legal arguments Jazlyn throws at me.”

  Garrett bowed his head. “Thank you.”

  Maria agreed. “Garrett is chill. Low-key. And super-useful. But I’m sure you could do some research if you had to, Dan.”

  “No. I’ll be the first to admit that research is not my strong suit. I mean, I know how it’s done, in a vague sort of way. But I don’t enjoy it. Books and paper. Ick.”

  “I do enjoy it,” Garrett replied. “I would much rather be in the library than the courtroom.”

  “This is the way a team is supposed to work,” Maria said. “Complementing one another.”


  Dan gave her a stern look. “If you say, ‘You complete me,’ I’m going to become violent. Or violently ill.”

  She laughed. “I would never commit such a heinous offense.”

  “I do kinda think we’ve got a nice gestalt here,” Jimmy added. “Just saying. We’re like a brave group of wandering warriors. We’re like, the fellowship of the ring.”

  “Or,” Garrett suggested, “a first-rate NFL team.”

  “Or Team Hogwarts,” Maria said.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Hogwarts? Really?”

  “Oh, loosen up. Didn’t you love the Harry Potter books when you were younger and less boring?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “Too juvenile for you?”

  “Too long for me.”

  Maria laughed. “Well, it’s applicable, even if you don’t know it. You, Dan, are our Harry Potter.”

  “I’m a scrawny geek with weird glasses?”

  “You’re the focal point. The wheel around which the spokes pivot. A natural leader.”

  “I don’t want to lead anyone.”

  “Neither did Harry.”

  “I suppose you’re Hermione? The smarty-pants know-it-all?”

  “Aha. You do know a little about the Harry Potter universe.”

  “I’ve seen some of the movies. And you’re obviously smart. I knew that the first night I met you in that bar.”

  “I don’t think I like where this is going,” Jimmy cut in. “You’re not going to say I’m Ron, are you?”

  Maria laughed. “Oh, Jimmy. You are so Ron.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re not suggesting we’re gonna hook up in the end. Are you saying I’m the comic relief?”

  She smiled. “You’re the heart of the team.”

  “I like that better.” He raised a fist. “Go Team Hogwarts!”

  “I’m feeling left out here,” Garrett said. “Who’s left for me? Hagrid?”

  Everyone burst out laughing.

  “Surely we can find a better parallel,” Maria said. “Who does the research at Hogwarts? Dumbledore? Snape?

  “I am not going to be Snape,” Garrett insisted.

  “I guess that makes you Dumbledore. You have been here longer than the rest of us.”

  “Now wait a minute—”

  The doorbell rang. Through the windows on either side of the door, he could see that a package had been delivered.

  Maria looked toward the door. “You expecting anything, Dan?”

  “I did send some exhibits out to be photocopied. I’ll bring it in.” He opened the door and lifted the box. It was much lighter than he expected. He set it on a coffee table and started to open it.

  “Want a knife? Scissors?” Jimmy asked.

  “Nah. I prefer the brute-force approach.” He ripped the tape off the top of the box, then opened it.

  And gasped.

  At first, he didn’t realize what it was. Then, as he slowly removed the pieces, he figured it out.

  It was a doll, a stuffed cotton doll, perhaps two feet in length. It had dark hair and a Hispanic skin tone. Young. Probably beautiful—before it had been ripped to shreds.

  And splattered with blood.

  He scratched some of it with his fingernail, then touched it to his tongue.

  Real blood.

  Maria hovered over his shoulder, then drew in her breath. “Wh—what is it?”

  He felt his throat dry up. “A doll. An effigy. Bloody, mutilated, and dismembered.”

  “But—why?”

  “It’s supposed to be Esperanza.” He paused. “It’s a threat.”

  “Why would anyone threaten that beautiful girl?”

  He laid it gently back in the box. “Because it’s the best way to get to us. To stop what we’re doing. Someone is worried we’re going to get Gabriella off. And they don’t like it.”

  Garrett rose. “Surely they don’t think we’re going to back off because we got a doll in the mail.”

  Silence.

  “Well, we’re not going to. Right?” Garrett’s eyes scanned the room. “Right, Dan?”

  He found it increasingly difficult to speak.

  A doll covered with blood. Real blood. Some of it still wet. The odor rising from the box was horrific, like something stale and dead. He knew there were many nasty people involved in this case, and at least one capable of murder...but someone who would do this was capable of anything.

  Fighting his flight instinct, he reached into the box and found something more. At first he thought it was scraps of cardboard, a message maybe. Then he realized it was a photograph torn to shreds.

  He poured all the pieces onto the table and assembled them like a jigsaw puzzle. It didn’t take long to see what it was. Or rather, what it had originally been.

  Jimmy whispered. “It’s a photograph of us. All four of us.”

  “When was that taken?” Maria asked.

  He licked his lips. “Looks like we’re in front of the courthouse. Maybe when we went out for the arraignment.”

  “I don’t remember anyone taking a selfie,” Garrett said.

  “Because we didn’t. This was taken by someone else. Someone watching us.”

  Jimmy stuttered. “L-Like you said. A threat.”

  “And a damn good one. Because if someone can shoot a camera at us, they could shoot a gun at us. And disappear into the background, no one ever knowing who did it.” A word echoed in his brain. “Like an assassin. No trace left behind. We’d just be gone.”

  Maria’s voice was mostly steady, but he could see that her hands trembled. “Do you think... we need to give this a second thought?”

  Jimmy was still whispering. “At any rate, we need to tell Mr. K.”

  “No,” Garrett said. “K won’t put us in danger. He’ll take us off the case.”

  Maria’s brow was deeply creased. “Dan? What do you think?”

  He drew in his breath, trying to keep his voice level. “This psychopath probably realizes we might not back down, if it’s just our own lives in danger. Hence, the doll. What we might not do for ourselves—we might do for Esperanza.”

  “She’s in that detention center all by herself,” Maria said. “How hard would it be for someone to get to her?”

  “If people can have inmates executed in prison, a detention center should be a cinch. And that’s what our correspondent wants us to understand. In our hearts, we took this case for Esperanza.” He slowly lowered himself into a chair. “And if we continue with it, we may kill her.”

  The Weak and the Needy

  Chapter 28

  Dan rarely slept the night before a trial began. At least it felt that way. Some inner voice suggested that he must sleep a little and not realize it, or he wouldn’t be able to put one foot in front of the other come morning. But all he remembered was tossing and turning, flipping and flopping, not being able to stop thinking long enough to rest.

  That was standard practice for a trial lawyer, and especially a criminal lawyer, whose work had life-and-death ramifications. He was always queasy the night before trial—and that was probably good. If he ever became so accustomed to this that it didn’t bother him anymore, it was time to quit. It was the nervousness and nausea that gave him an edge. And the edge guaranteed that he did his best work.

  The looming specter of the death penalty did not help him sleep. Florida was one of the most active death penalty states in the nation. Several people had been executed in the past few years, though happily, none of them had been his client. Early in 2018, a death penalty execution turned horrific when the convict screamed and struggled as he died, apparently in excruciating pain. Some pundits said enthusiasm for the death penalty was fading, that court rulings and waning public support might soon make it obsolete. He hadn’t seen any evidence of that yet, but he hoped it was true.

  Today he had an even more immediate threat to worry about. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was about to put his foot in a steel-claw bear trap—and he wouldn’t be
able to chew his leg free. He’d called Crenshaw, the cowboy kaleidoscope ICE agent, to notify him of the suspected threat. Crenshaw said he would notify the staff at the detention center and tell them to be doubly alert. He also instructed them to isolate Esperanza and not permit her any unknown visitors.

  But he knew that might not be enough. There was always a way to get someone.

  He hired two security officers to stake out the detention center. But of course, they couldn’t go inside. All they could do was park a car nearby and photograph who entered. They had facial-recognition software that might help them identify suspicious visitors. But what if the person who mailed that package got to someone on the inside?

  He had also hired a security team to watch him and the other members of Gabriella’s defense team, but that gave him no greater sense of satisfaction or security. The officers could enter the courthouse and even the courtroom, but they couldn’t bring weapons. The metal detectors prevented that. Theoretically, the metal detectors should prevent assassins from bringing weapons into the courtroom as well. But there had been incidents when people managed to smuggle weapons, sometimes made of something other than metal, into courtrooms. If someone with sufficient intelligence and resources really wanted to take out a lawyer, they’d find a way.

  He and Maria took their positions at the defense table with Gabriella. Jimmy and Garrett stayed in the gallery. He knew Jazlyn would be flanked by her enormous staff, and he liked the image that would give the jury. Normally, an extensive defense team might make the prosecution look outgunned. Here, it would be just the opposite, with so many briefcases sitting with the prosecutor, but only two with the defendant. And one of those was a backpack. They would look like the underdog. That fit best with the trial strategy Maria concocted.

  He warned Gabriella that jury selection was a long and tedious process, and that it was best she not be in the courtroom while it took place. He preferred that the jurors get their first glimpse of her when the trial began, after Maria made sure Gabriella was well scrubbed and well dressed. Nothing from Neiman Marcus, nothing that suggested they were trying to turn her into someone she wasn’t. But respectable. Not someone you would expect to be a member of a gang, much less pistol-popping rival gang members.