The Anonymous Client

27

“Let’s look at the case against me.”

Mark Taylor’s grin seemed rather forced. “You’re serious about this?”

They were in Mark Taylor’s office. It was eight in the evening. Steve Winslow had just given Taylor a rundown of the day in court. After the testimony of Frank Sullivan, the rest of the day had been rather tame. Sanford Hill, called to the stand, had gone over much of the same ground Sullivan had. The medical examiner had fixed the time of death between five-fifteen and five forty-five in the afternoon, and refused to budge, despite a grueling cross-examination by Fitzpatrick. The landlady, Miss Dobson, had testified to identifying the body as that of the man who had rented an apartment from her under the name of David C. Bradshaw. And Special Agent Serota of the FBI had testified to matching the decedent’s fingerprints to those of one Donald Blake, a known blackmailer and extortionist.

Which normally would have been pretty interesting stuff. It was only after Officer Sullivan’s testimony that it seemed tame.

“I’m kidding,” Steve said. “The problem is, Fitzpatrick’s serious.”

“That’s absurd. He has no proof at all.”

“He doesn’t need it. Dirkson has to prove Marilyn guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.” Steve shrugged. “I’m his reasonable doubt.”

“Yeah.”

“So let’s consider the case against me. I’m found in Bradshaw’s apartment. I can’t explain why I went there without betraying the confidence of a client-and don’t say what client. Therefore I can’t say anything, and therefore I can’t defend myself. That puts me in the apartment, so I had the opportunity. Means? No problem there. The knife was there at hand. That leaves only motive. What motive did I have for killing Bradshaw? Just the ten thousand big ones that I admittedly knew about and even had a list of the serial numbers of. From the questions Dirkson asked me before the grand jury, it’s a cinch those bills were found in the upstairs hallway of the building. Just where I might have had to ditch them if I were trapped in the apartment by the arrival of the police. Add to that the fact that Tracy Garvin, my secretary, was apprehended attempting to enter that building a couple of hours later. Put that all together and tell me how much of a case Fitzpatrick’s going to be able to make.”

Taylor thought a moment. “Shit.”

“You said it. And I can’t do anything about it because I’m not a party to the case. I can’t object. I can’t cross-examine. I just have to sit there and take it.”

“Yeah.”

Steve shook his head. “And if that weren’t bad enough, I have to sit next to Tracy Garvin, who thinks the whole thing’s exciting as hell.”

“Nice of you of let her sit in.”

“Nothing nice about it. She told me that since I wasn’t the attorney in the case I wouldn’t be getting transcripts so I’d need her to take shorthand notes of the testimony.”

“Do you?”

“No, but if I told her that I’d have a mutiny on my hands, and if I piss her off too much, she knows enough to crucify me.”

Mark frowned. “Hey. She wouldn’t do that. She’s a game kid, you know?”

“Accent on kid. She’s really young, you know it.”

“I don’t think you do her justice.”

“I forgot, I forgot. You’re in love. Look, Mark, I gotta do something here. Fitzpatrick’s out to get me. Dirkson’s out to get me. If I’m not careful, one of them will.”

“Wait a minute. You said Fitzpatrick brought out all of this stuff. Dirkson didn’t even mention you at all.”

Steve nodded. “That’s right.”

“Then I don’t get it.”

“Dirkson’s smart, and he’s a politician. He’s not going to go after me in court. That would make him look bad. He’s a prosecutor, and he’s supposed to be prosecuting a woman for murder, not airing some personal grudge. So what does he do? He bends over backwards. He has Officer Sullivan give his testimony and carefully refrain from mentioning me at all. He knows damn well Fitzpatrick’s going to bring it out on cross-examination and make a big deal about the fact it wasn’t mentioned on direct. He has it both ways. The fact I was found in that apartment makes a bigger stink than if he’d mentioned it to begin with, but he’s not the one bringing it out. On the other hand, he’s ignoring this extraneous matter that has nothing to do with his contention that Marilyn Harding killed Donald Blake.”

“I see.”

“Right. And he’ll go on along the same lines, letting Fitzpatrick bring out stuff about me all through the trial. Then when it’s all over and Fitzpatrick’s stirred up enough of a mess, if the bar association should decide I might be guilty of tampering with evidence and obstructing justice, well, hell, it wasn’t Dirkson who went after this poor helpless attorney, it was Fitzpatrick. Though, once the bar association cites me, I’m sure Dirkson will feel it his bound duty to prosecute me with great vigor.”

Mark thought that over. “Aw, shit. So what you gonna do?”

“I’m going to sit in court.” Steve shrugged. “After all, I have to earn my half a dollar.”