Barely Legal

28

While the doorman hailed him a cab, Herbie whipped out his cell phone and called Melanie back.

“Where are you?” she said.

“Hailing a cab.”

“Meet me on the corner of Broadway and a hundred and tenth.”

“How will I know you?”

“I’ll be the one who walks up to you and says, ‘Herb Fisher?’”

“How do you know me?”

“I Googled you. I trust you still look like the geek in the Woodman & Weld photo.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Herbie said. “They Photoshopped out my handlebar mustache and muttonchops.”

Herbie got out of the cab at 110th and Broadway and looked around for Melanie.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

Herbie turned around to find a beautiful woman smiling at him. Her blond hair was tucked back in a tidy chignon, lending maturity to a face that looked younger than her years. Herbie wasn’t sure what her years actually were, he just knew she was older than David. Otherwise, he could have taken her for a freshman.

“Well, well,” she said, “if it isn’t my kid brother’s attorney. Come on, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Are you always this brusque?” Herbie said.

“Only when my brother’s facing jail time. Come on, there’s a little bar up the street.”

She took him up Broadway to a funky college bar. It was a little loud for Herbie’s taste, but his college days were in the rearview mirror. They were lucky enough to get a table for two along the wall.

“So,” Melanie said, “the advantage of this place is we can talk without being overheard.”

“Or hearing each other.”

“Hard of hearing, Gramps? I can lean close and shout. So, is my father any help?”

“In a word, no.”

She shook her head, deploringly but fondly. “Always the politician. You tried to connect the detective to Tommy Taperelli, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that?”

“I have a reporter friend who covers the crime beat.”

“Sits in on court cases?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would he sit in on this one?”

“Because it’s my brother.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Why do you say ex?”

“If he was your boyfriend, he’d be here.”

Melanie smiled. “You’re very quick. I suppose that’s an advantage in a lawyer. I always thought of them as stodgy and doddering.”

“Not the lawyers on TV.”

“No, but on TV no one’s stodgy and doddering. Even stodgy and doddering people aren’t.”

“I take it you’re not a lawyer.”

Melanie shook her head. “No. I’m a doctor. I was premed at Columbia. Now I’m an intern at Cornell Hospital.”

Herbie liked her. There was an ease about her that made him feel relaxed for the first time all day, and it had been a hell of a day. He found himself actually smiling as the conversation progressed.

“So what information did you want to share with me?” Herbie said.

“Yeah. About Tommy Taperelli. Can you really link the detective to him?”

“I have it on good authority.”

“How good?”

“You wouldn’t believe.”

“Try me.”

“I can’t give up my source.”

“That’s reporters, not lawyers.”

“I’m friends with the commissioner of police.”

Melanie’s mouth fell open. “The police commissioner says the detective is tied to Taperelli?”

“Did I say that? I don’t recall saying that.”

“Never mind sparring with me. If they’re actually connected, there’s your link. Tommy Taperelli is in bed with Jules Kenworth.”

“So I understand.”

“My father told you?”

“Your father says Kenworth is a crook and he wouldn’t deal with him.”

“That’s the short version. Before he got into politics my father had dealings with Kenworth. When he found out they were illegal, he got out.”

“So?”

“Kenworth never lets you get out. He’s always after my father to do something for him.”

“Just to be a prick?”

“No, there’s lots of money involved. The city council rules on construction ordinances. Kenworth will want my father to vote his way on some project or other. My father always turns him down.”

“How come?”

“There’s always a reason. Just the fact that he’s asking means he’s trying to bend the rules. And it’s always something you wouldn’t want to be associated with.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, like there’s a museum or a library with landmark status he wants to get lifted so he can knock it down and build something. It’s a poison pill. If my father ever voted for one, he could forget about reelection. There’s no way he’d go along with one of Kenworth’s schemes.”

“Even with your brother facing a jail sentence?”

“Perhaps. But I think my father half believes David’s drug arrest was legitimate.”

“I think David is innocent.”

“You’re his lawyer. You have to think that.”

“No, I don’t. If he were guilty, I’d strongly encourage him to take the plea.”

“What if he wouldn’t?”

“Then he could get another lawyer.”

“That’s not how lawyers work.”

“Well, I’m not a criminal attorney. I haven’t learned the rules yet.”

Melanie peered at his face. “Your eyes are twinkling. Are you kidding me?”

“I’ve had a long day.”

They smiled at each other.

Herbie’s cell phone rang. He jerked it out, clicked it on. “Hello?”

It was Yvette. “Hi, honey. When are you coming home?”

Herbie found himself suddenly embarrassed to be talking to Yvette in front of Melanie. “I got held up with work,” he said.

“Life of a lawyer! If you can, get home soon. I’d like to give you a proper kiss good night,” she said suggestively.

“I’m wrapping things up here and should be there soon.”

Herbie clicked the phone off to find Melanie smiling at him. “I take it you need to go?”

“Not enough hours in the day. Sorry to cut this short.”

“Me too. Walk me home, it’s only two blocks.”

They settled the check and Herbie walked her to a brownstone on 114th Street.

“This is me,” she said.

Herbie felt awkward about saying good night. A handshake? That didn’t seem right. What should he do?

While he was hesitating, Melanie took his face in her hands, said, “Save my brother,” and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Before Herbie could say anything, she disappeared in the front door.

On the other side of the street, Mookie whipped out his notebook and scribbled down the address.