Dog Tags

CHAPTER 19

BILLY DOESN’T LEAVE INTENSIVE CARE UNTIL THE MORNING, SO I’M AT THE HOSPITAL AT NINE AM.

The decision has already been made to keep him in the hospital for at least the next few days, rather than transferring him to the prison infirmary. I support the decision and would have fought for it if there was resistance. If solitary confinement in the prison couldn’t prevent this attack, the infirmary would be a shooting gallery.

There are two guards outside Billy’s room when I arrive. He looks like he’s been through a meat grinder, but he does not seem the type to complain about it. “You okay?” I ask. “Are they treating you well?”

“No problem, although what the hell is the deal with this male nurse thing?”

“You’ve got a male nurse?”

“Damn straight; he’s gotta be six foot two. He wanted to sponge me down. I told him if he tried it, he’d be taking my bed in intensive care.”

“Do you need anything?”

He nods. “Yeah. I need you to get me out of here.”

“The hospital?” I ask.

“No… prison. But first tell me about Milo. I heard you got him off.”

“Yes. We prevailed.”

“Man, Pete was right. You must be good. Where’s Milo now?”

“Still at the shelter. I should have him out by tomorrow. Which brings up the question of what I should do with him.”

“Can you hold on to him until you get me out?”

“What makes you think you’re getting out?”

“If you go to the prosecutor, I think he’ll be willing to make a deal.”

“You’re going to plead?”

He shakes his head. “I’m going to trade.”

“Billy, I don’t think you get it. First of all, I’m not your lawyer; I only represented you for the purpose of getting Milo out. Second of all, if I was your lawyer, I wouldn’t put up with this cryptic bullshit.”

He is aware that I’m angry, and backs off immediately. “Okay, I’m sorry, you’re right. I need you to be my lawyer, full-time. I want you to do for me what you did for Milo.”

“No thanks. I’ve got all the clients I need.”

“Do it as a favor for Pete.”

“Been there, done that. Besides, he hasn’t asked me to represent you,” I point out.

“He will.” When I don’t respond, he says, “Come on, man, I’m a wounded veteran. Don’t you care about your country? What do I have to do?” he asks. “Sing ‘God Bless America’?”

There’s something obnoxiously charming about Billy, but I’ve always been able to resist obnoxious charm. Maybe it’s because I possess so much of it myself. The truth is, I don’t want this case; in fact, I don’t want any case. But I also can’t leave him confined to this hospital bed with no one to help him.

“All right,” I say. “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll handle your plea bargain—”

He interrupts to correct me. “Trade.”

I nod. “Trade. But you’re going to tell me what it is you have to trade. I’m not going in there unless I know what I’m talking about.”

He thinks for a moment, weighing his options, and then nods. “Okay. Jack Erskine… the guy that was killed… if there was ever someone on this planet who deserved to die, it was him.”