Dog Tags

CHAPTER 10

A GOOD NUMBER OF LAWYERS THINK THEY CAN INSTINCTIVELY TELL WHEN SOMEONE IS LYING. I am not among them. I have my instincts and hunches about the veracity of the things people tell me, but I am probably wrong as often as I am right. In this case, my hunch is that Billy is telling me the truth, but I don’t have great confidence in it.

He tells me that he knew the victim, a man named Jack Erskine, and that he served with him in Iraq. He also stands by his claim not to know what was in the envelope that Milo took, but adds that a number of people will likely be desperate to get their hands on it.

I could push it and try to get more out of him, but it’s not necessary for what I have to do. I also feel that the less involved I get with Billy and his story, the better.

“So that’s why Milo is being guarded? Because the police are afraid that someone will take him in the hope he’ll lead them to what he stole?”

Billy nods. “That’s what they think, but he won’t do it. At least not for them.”

“But he’ll do it for you?”

He smiles. “Could be. I told you; we’re buddies. He trusts me.”

Billy’s strategy is becoming clear to me now, even if the facts of the case aren’t. “So the reason you’re not worried about yourself is that you think they’ll come to you with a deal. You and Milo find the package, and they drop the charges.”

“Pete said you were smart,” Billy says. “He was right.”

“I’m only smart compared with you,” I say.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re facing life in prison, and you’re doing nothing to protect yourself. Instead you’re sitting in your cell plotting a strategy that consists of hoping everything will fall neatly into place.”

“It will.”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’ll find out what was in the envelope through other means, or maybe someone in power will decide they’re better off not finding the envelope at all. Or maybe someone will get by the guard and take a shot at Milo, or figure out a way to poison his kibble. Any one of those maybes, or a hundred others, leaves you with an hour a day’s exercise in the yard for the rest of your life.”

I think I can see in his face a sign that I’m getting through to him, or maybe not. I’m not even sure that I want to, because this is one human client I definitely don’t need.

“Can you get Milo out?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “And what would I do with him if I did?”

“One step at a time,” he says. “He doesn’t belong in a cage.”

Finally, a statement that I’m sure is true.

I promise Billy that I’ll do my best, then I head home rather than to the office. I find I do my best thinking when I’m walking Tara, and some productive thinking is certainly going to be required here. A law enforcement system that considers it necessary to put an armed guard around a dog is not going to passively let that dog walk out the door.

Whatever the approach I decide on, it’s going to take an ample dose of legal maneuvering. To that end I call Kevin. He and Kelly had decided not to take a honeymoon, since they were to be leaving for Bangladesh in less than two weeks.

“Kev, we’ve got a case.”

“You’ve got a case” is his response. “I’m going to Bangladesh.”

“What’s your rush?”

“Poverty, hunger, illiteracy…”

“And you think if you don’t hurry and get there all that stuff will be gone?” I’m admittedly sounding pathetic, but I really could use Kevin’s help.

“Andy, I wish I could help you, but I can’t.”

“Okay,” I say. “I understand. I guess my not losing the ring doesn’t mean you owe me.”

“Is the client at least a human this time?”

“Damn close. He’s a German shepherd, but a really smart one.” I tell Kevin the basics of the case, and I can tell he’s intrigued by it, but he’s firm that he and Kelly are off to save the world.

“Get Eddie Lynch,” he says. “He writes legal briefs that make mine look like they were done with crayon.”

“Kevin, he’s Mr. Doom and Gloom.”

“He thinks of himself as a realist. In any event, there are two reasons you should have him write the briefs.”

“And they are?”

“He’ll do a great job, and when he does, you won’t have to.”

The man has a point.