Breach of Trust

52

Hector looked like he always looked, whether he was on trial for his life or out on the town, always the colorful shirts and loud ties, the collar pin. He wasn’t skimping on wardrobe, but then again, he didn’t have a wife or kids to spend money on. He was divorced and his wife had remarried, taking him off the hook for alimony. It reminded me of Joel Lightner’s speculation, back during Hector’s trial, that our client was gay.

Hector made an attempt at complimenting my office, but it was painful and awkward for both of us. This place didn’t exactly compare to Shaker, Riley’s space. But I didn’t mind it. It was starting to grow on me. It would be nice, in theory at least, to measure my progress in the legal profession by such things as the size and quality of my office space over time.

I say “in theory” because I knew a certain federal prosecutor who had other plans for my future, including a criminal indictment. But I was working on that.

“I only have a couple of minutes,” I apologized to Hector. Charlie and I were meeting with a state contractor today. But I didn’t tell Hector that, because he might want to walk me to Charlie’s waiting car, and it would be slightly awkward when we had to take a detour to Suite 410 so that Special Agent Lee Tucker could hand me the F-Bird before I met Charlie.

“Things are working out with Charlie,” he said, taking a seat. It was a statement, I thought, not a question. More than anything, it was Hector reminding me, in case I had forgotten, that he was the one who got me the gig. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“It has its moments.”

“You know I’ve recommended you for other things, as well. Maddie discussed it with you.”

So Hector was following up on the offer that Madison Koehler pitched me in the hotel room. He was recruiting me. I’d deferred the idea for a while and wasn’t seriously considering it. I wasn’t interested in helping the government ensnare anyone else. It wasn’t my style. Charlie was different, because he and his buddies were the reason I got caught up with the FBI in the first place, the memos they doctored, but I wasn’t interested in going beyond him. Not to get Madison.

And certainly not to get Hector. I wasn’t the president of his fan club, but he’d been my client. That bond was inviolable. Technically, we were no longer attorney and client, but it still felt wrong to me. You don’t defend a guy in federal court one day and turn state’s evidence on him the next. I could, as a purely formalistic matter, but I wouldn’t.

“You should do it,” he said. “We need you.”

“ ‘We’?”

“Yes, ‘we.’ ”

Madison had mentioned that Hector had the governor’s ear. I’d heard the same from some stray comments Charlie had made. I didn’t completely understand it. Hector wasn’t the worst of the worst, but he sure wasn’t the best of the best, either. The way I described him to Talia, in a moment of private candor, was that Hector Almundo was a political thug. He led with his chin and he didn’t take prisoners.

My take was that, as is often the case in politics, it was a pure case of need. The governor needed the Latino vote, and Hector had been something of a cause celebre in that community, the poster child for persecution at the hands of white federal prosecutors. And better still, Hector stood up to the G and beat them. To many, he was a hero.

“I like where I am now,” I said.

“Jason, you’re not seeing the big picture.”

No, my friend, I was tempted to say. I see the big picture a hell of a lot better than you.

“You know how Charlie is, right?” he said. “All about loyalty? Well, the governor’s cut from the same cloth. I mean, look at Greg Connolly. That guy can hardly spell his name, but he and Carl grew up together. So Carl gives him a nice title. A job that, as you know,” he added, with a knowing nod, “can be advantageous in other ways as well.”

I think Hector liked the fact that I had gotten down in the mud with him. However devoted we were to defending him, regardless of what the evidence showed, it had to be embarrassing to Hector on a personal level to have to explain himself to Paul and me. It was probably psychologically comforting for him to see me joining him in the cesspool now.

“The point being?” I asked.

“Well, you know the point. You can be right there with us. You’ll be right there when he gets elected. You can get a lot out of that, Jason. A lot. The sky’s the limit.”

I nodded warmly enough, shrugged a shoulder.

“Oh, you’re crazy.” Hector fell back in his chair. “You’re going to turn this down?”

“I am.”

“Listen, you don’t have to give up”-he gestured around my office, then remembered how unimpressive it was-“you can still be in private practice. You can do whatever you want.”

“Including turning down your offer?”

He shook his head, exasperated. “Is this because of Charlie? We can talk to Charlie.”

“Hector, I’m not doing it.”

He thought for a moment. He was thinking of another angle. “You should meet Governor Snow.”

“No.”

“Yes.” He started nodding, warming up to his brilliant idea. “Yes, you should meet him. He’s a good guy. You’ll like him. If you don’t, then turn it down. But give him that chance. Can you give him that chance?”

“Not interested,” I said.

He struggled with that for a long time. He couldn’t believe I was turning down this opportunity.

“Y’know, you’re not just passing on a great opportunity,” he said.

“No? What else am I doing?”

“You’re saying no to the governor.” He pushed himself out of his seat. “Make sure that’s what you want to do before you do it.”

Lee Tucker was on his phone when I unlocked the door and entered Suite 410. He was at the end of the hallway, and he nodded at me when he saw me. He said something into his cell phone and closed it up. “Hey,” he said. “You’re late. What were you doing?”

I looked at my watch. “I’m two minutes late.”

“Okay. So, what were you doing?”

I went into his office and picked up the F-Bird off the desk.

“Hey,” he said. “What were you doing?”

“Hey,” I said, slipping the F-Bird into my jacket pocket. I was hitting the limit with these feds. “What were you doing, Lee? Who were you talking to on the phone? About what? When was the last time you screwed your wife?”

Tucker gave me his best look of disapproval. “Doesn’t work both ways, superstar. What were you just doing?”

“I was getting a bikini wax,” I said. “What the hell do you care what I was doing?”

He thought for a minute and decided to let it go. “We’re thinking maybe it’s time for you to expand,” he said. “To branch out. We’ve squeezed this rag with Cimino pretty dry. We think you should try to position yourself to move on. I mean, we know Cimino’s working with others. But we don’t see that side of it. We need you to get us there.”

“I’ve got a great idea,” I said. “Why don’t you pay a late-night visit to Charlie and make him an offer he can’t refuse? I’m sure he could take you places I couldn’t.”

“C’mon, Jason. You know you’re doing a great job with Cimino. You’ve built up credibility. You’ve raised a ton of money for the governor. You’re in a perfect position to climb the ladder. I’m surprised they haven’t asked.”

I didn’t answer.

Tucker’s eyes narrowed. “Have they? Has someone approached you?”

I looked at my watch. “I’m late.”

“You’d have to tell us if they did. You understand that, right?”

“I understand that Charlie doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

Tucker seemed like he was out of ammunition. He jaw was tightly set. He had his hands on his hips. He shook his head slowly. “Jason, listen to me. The smartest thing you can do right now is say yes.”

“Who said I was smart?” I walked over to the door. “I’ll finish what I started with Cimino,” I said. “But I’m not taking you on an undercover tour through state government.”