Partners

6.

On a beautiful Saturday afternoon, six days after he died, Buck Lester was given a lavish farewell, complete with a full funeral Mass at a downtown cathedral, a somber procession along streets lined with hundreds of uniformed brethren, and a full military interment with flags and guns. It was televised from beginning to end and lasted two hours.

Sebastian figured it was a good time to slip across the street and meet his new client. He visited clients in jail every week and always in one of the many attorney conference rooms on the second floor. There, they talked in private through a screen. Tee Ray, though, was the man of the moment, the hottest defendant in town, so for him there were different procedures. Sebastian was taken to a windowless room on the fourth floor, a room he had never seen before. He bitched at the guard about the extra security. The guard ignored him; the lawyers were always bitching about something.

The partition was not a wire screen but rather a thick sheet of some type of unbreakable glass with a three-inch hole in the middle of it. Sebastian stared at the hole, glanced at his watch, and waited. It was not unusual for the guards to make the lawyers wait, and wait. Bitching usually led to more waiting, but the trade-off was worth it. It was important to bitch to show the guards that they, the lawyers, were not intimidated. As a general rule, the guards despised the lawyers. The lawyers neither liked nor disliked the guards. They barely existed. They were either minimum-wage flunkies or part-time hobby cops lacking enough brains to get a real badge.

Sebastian pondered these things as he waited. The $75,000 in cash was locked in a safe-deposit box in a downtown bank. He was still debating how much to put on the books.

A door opened and a guard appeared. He was followed by Cardell, who for the occasion was wearing a Kevlar vest, a helmet, and of course the usual assortment of chains and cuffs, all for a two-minute walk down the stairs from the protective custody wing on the fifth floor. Because of the wound to his left elbow, the guards had generously cuffed his wrists in the front and not the back. Two more guards crowded behind him. Sebastian shook his head in disbelief as they went about the task of removing the restraints. Cardell stood perfectly still, his eyes on the floor. The helmet came off.

When they finished, one guard said, “You have an hour.”

To which Sebastian replied, “Bullshit. I’m his lawyer. I have as much time as I need.”

“An hour!”

“Take the damned Kevlar vest off, okay? The guy is here to see me, his lawyer. You think I’m planning to shoot my own client?”

The guards laughed at the lawyer’s stupidity. They left the room and Cardell, still wearing the vest, dropped into the plastic chair and looked through the glass. He slowly took the phone hanging by the partition.

Sebastian picked up his and said, “I’m Sebastian Rudd, your lawyer.”

“Nice to meet you. I guess I’m your client.”

“I guess you are. And you go by Tee Ray, right?”

“Tee Ray works.”

“Tee Ray, we’re not going to talk in here. I’ve heard about this room. The cops around here are pretty stupid and they probably have this place wired. I’ll go to court Monday and get an order allowing us to meet on the second floor, where the attorney conference rooms are located. Those rooms are wire free, or so we think. So, let’s just say this is our first little hey-howdy meeting. We’re set for your first appearance next Wednesday in circuit court. I’ll be there, but we’ll talk ahead of time. Any questions?”

“My son—”

Sebastian threw up a hand. “Don’t say anything, because someone is listening. I’ve talked to Jameel, and I’ve talked to your mother, Miss Luella. A delightful lady. Jameel is living with an aunt while I try to arrange housing for him and your mother.”

Tee Ray nodded with gratitude but said nothing.

Sebastian said, “Don’t say a word about your case to anyone. I know you’re in a cell by yourself but that doesn’t matter. Every other inmate is likely to be a snitch, and he’ll pop up at trial and claim that you made a full confession. I’ll file a motion to keep you in solitary confinement. I know it’s not pleasant, but it will keep you away from potential snitches. You cannot trust anyone here, Tee Ray, do you understand this?”

He kept nodding.

“I’ll be back Monday afternoon and we’ll have a long chat. Until then, not a word.”