Kill All the Lawyers

Twenty-Six

Victoria thought she should be both delicate and diplomatic. She could say: "I question your judgment in striking Myron Goldberg." Or perhaps: "For someone still facing assault charges, your conduct might be considered somewhat ill-advised."

But she settled on: "You're a child! An undisciplined, self-indulgent child."

"C'mon, Vic. I was the peacemaker."

"You're probably guilty of trespassing. And definitely assault and battery."

"I handled it. The cops interviewed me, then headed off to Krispy Kreme."

"So you're not being charged?"

"They're still investigating."

"I should talk to Dr. Goldberg," she said. "Try to talk him out of filing charges."

"I should sue him." Steve held up his swollen right hand. "My wrist is sprained."

They were stuck in traffic on South Bayshore Drive on a muggy autumn morning. Thankfully, Steve had put the top up on the Mustang, or her hair would resemble a floor mop. They were trying to work their way out of Coconut Grove on the morning after the reappearance of Janice, the nabbing of Bobby, and the near-arrest of Steve.

Just another day in the saga of the Solomon family. Do I really belong here?

Steve was like a trapeze artist working without a net. Sooner or later, he would fall. Would she catch him or be squashed by him?

Okay, if Steve's a trapeze artist, what am I?

The gal in tights who rides the prancing elephant?

No, the poor gal following the elephant with the shovel and pail.

She had picked up the circus metaphors from Marvin the Maven, the octogenarian leader of the Courthouse Gang, an unabashed admirer of Steve. Marvin had once told her why he followed Steve from courtroom to courtroom. "With Steverino, it's like the circus. You never know when a dozen clowns are gonna fall out of a little yellow car."

But Steve's courtroom antics were usually planned and made some sense, even if they were borderline unethical. These latest actions-clobbering Arnold Freskin and now Myron Goldberg-made Victoria feel that Steve was out of control.

"How's Bobby doing?" she asked.

"Better, I think. He's calmed down."

"Do you want me to talk to him? About girls, I mean."

"Already did. A speech about being a gentleman, respecting girls. I also told him I was disappointed he didn't tell me about Janice the Junkie coming around."

She shot him a look.

"I didn't call her that," he said hastily. " 'Your loving mother' is what I said. 'How could you sneak off

with your loving mother like that?' "

"Go easy on him, Steve. He's got a lot going on."

"Yeah, well, so do I."

Steve banged the horn at a Hummer that was trying to nose into traffic from the Grove Isle bridge. "Asshole! Guy thinks he owns the road 'cause he's got the biggest bumper."

Great, Victoria thought. Just what they needed. A road rage incident.

Steve slid down the window on the passenger side, leaned across, and shouted: "Hey, you! Big car, little dick!"

Victoria swatted his hand away and hit the button, closing the window. "What's wrong with you! Don't you know how many drivers in Miami are armed?"

He turned on the radio. "No, but I'm sure you do."

"Your conduct lately simply defies description."

"Oh, c'mon, Vic. Give it a try."

"For starters, you've been both irresponsible and reckless."

A sports talk station came on, the caller and host debating whether Shaquille O'Neal was a better player than Wilt Chamberlain. The consensus seemed to be that Wilt scored more points and more women.

"Could you change that, please?" Victoria asked.

Steve punched a button, and another sports station came on, the host asking callers to choose the sexiest cheerleader from the Dolphin Dolls.

"How can you listen to this garbage?" she asked.

"I like it. Is that being reckless or irresponsible?"

"Juvenile."

"I guess good old Bigby doesn't listen to sports radio."

"Where did that come from? What's Bruce have to do with anything?"

"I don't know. He sort of popped into my head."

Ahead of them, traffic started moving and they inched past Mercy Hospital on the way downtown. Strange, Victoria thought. Just last night, her mother brought up Bruce. Victoria had been complaining about Steve and his penchant for trouble. Weirdly, The Queen had spoken up for Steve. What had she said exactly? Victoria couldn't remember.

Steve gave the Mustang some gas and said, "Good old boring Bruce Bigby."

Omigod.

That was almost exactly what The Queen had said. "Steve may drive you crazy, but you love him. And frankly, he's a lot more fun than good old boring Bruce."

"Have you been speaking to my mother?"

"Why would I? She hates me."

Victoria reached over and changed the station. On came Steve's damn Margaritaville music, Jimmy Buffet singing "Growing Older but Not Up." Another of the beach bard's paeans to the good life.

Victoria hit another button, and a deep voice rumbled from the speakers: "Now in its twenty-third printing, Looking Out for Numero Uno. So, log on to Dr. Bill's website and order the book today. With every purchase, get a free Dr. Bill ball cap with the logo 'Me First.' "

"I'll change that," she said, reaching toward the radio.

"No. Let's see who he's blasting today."

"Now, a special treat. You've heard Dr. Bill prescribe remedies for addiction before. Hard work. Willpower. Self-reliance. Forget groups and steps. Don't waste your time listening to other people's problems. Our guest today helped herself, and you can, too. Remember, folks, 'invincible' starts with 'i.' "

"What's he peddling now?" Steve asked.

"Today's guest is a woman who turned her life around. A woman who was mired in criminality and drug abuse and made the conscious decision to find the power that lies within. Welcome to the program, Janice Solomon."

"Oh, shit!" Steve slammed on the brakes and was nearly rear-ended.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Dr. Bill. You inspired me."

"That's generous of you, Janice. But I give you all the credit. Now, take our listeners through your life, from your upbringing in a dysfunctional family to your descent into drugs, to your rehabilitation. ."

"What a load of crap," Steve said.

". . and now your coming home to reclaim the son you love."

The words hit Steve like a one-two combination- jab-hook, jab-hook-and seemed to reverberate inside his brain.

"The son she loves?" Steve nearly spat the words. "She nearly killed Bobby!"

"The son who was illegally taken away from you."

Steve stomped on the gas and pulled through a U-turn, tires screeching.

"What are you doing?" Victoria said.

"We're going to the station. I'm not gonna let him get away with this."

"You can't play on his turf. Remember last time you went on the air?"

"Got no choice. Kreeger's setting the table for a custody fight. I've got to expose him as a fraud."

"He's taunting you. He wants you to come after him."

"Fine. He wants a fight, he's gonna get it. Janice, too."

Typical Steve, she thought. Rushing blindly into danger, never considering the consequences.

She sank back in her seat as the Mustang squealed around the turn at Seventeenth Avenue on the way to Dixie Highway. Steve was right about one thing, she thought.

He's not like Bruce at all.

Bruce carried an umbrella, even when the forecast was sunny and clear. Steve windsurfed in thunderstorms, mast pointed toward the sky, daring Zeus to toss lightning bolts his way.

Just now, good old boring Bruce doesn't sound so bad.

On the radio, Janice was going on about how much she missed her son when she was incarcerated and how, alone in her cell, she pledged to clean up her act so she could come home and raise the boy.

"My brother did the best he could while I was gone. But he's a bachelor, without any children of his own. He's actually quite immature himself."

"The Eva Braun of mothers is criticizing my parenting," Steve muttered.

"No way my brother can do what I can."

"Right. No way I'd abandon the boy and nearly let him freeze to death."

"Steve. Don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I'm the mother and there's nothing like a mother's love."

"I'm not going to do anything stupid," Steve said.

"I'm so anxious to make up for all the lost time."

"But I'll tell you this, Vic. I'll kill her before I let her have Bobby."