The Final Detail

And you have no idea

None.

The conference room door flew open. Hester Crimstein came in, red-faced and fuming. You

dumb bastards. I told you to stay away.

Don't put this on us, Myron said. This is your screwup.

What?

Getting her bail should have been a slam dunk.

If you weren't in the courtroom, it would have been. You played right into the DA's hands. He

wants to show the judge that the defendant has the resources to run away, and boom, he points to

a famous ex-jock and one of the country's richest playboys sitting right in the front row. She started stomping about as though the industrial gray carpet contained small brushfires. This judge is a liberal schmuck, she said. That's why I started with all that hardworking Hispanic crap. She hates rich people, probably because she is one. Having the Preppy Handbook here she gestured with her head at Win sit in the front row was like waving a Confederate flag at a black judge.

You should drop the case, Myron said.

Her head jerked toward him. Are you out of your mind?

Your fame is playing against you. The judge may not like rich people, but she doesn't much like

celebrities either. You're the wrong attorney for this case.

Bullshit. I've had three cases before this judge. I'm three and oh.

Maybe she doesn't like that either.

Crimstein seemed to lose a little steam. She moved back and collapsed into a chair. Bail

denied, she said more to herself than anyone else. I can't believe they even had the nerve to ask for no bail. She sat a bit straighter. All right, here's how we play it. I'm going to press for answers. In the meantime you guys say nothing. No talking to the cops, the DA, the press. Nobody. Not until we figure out what exactly they think the three of you did.

The three of us?

Weren't you listening, Myron? They think it's a money scheme.

Involving the three of us?

Yes.

But how?

I don't know. They mentioned your going to the Caribbean, maybe the Cayman Islands. We all

know what that means.

Depositing cash in offshore accounts, Myron said. But I left the country three weeks ago

before the money was even withdrawn. And I never went anywhere near the Caymans. They're probably still grasping at straws, Crimstein said. But they're going to go after you in a big way. I hope your books are in order because I guarantee you they'll have them subpoenaed within the hour.

Money scandal, Myron thought. Hadn't FJ mentioned something about that?

Crimstein turned her attention to Win. Is that stuff about a big cash withdrawal true?

Yes.

Can they prove Esperanza knew about it?

Probably.

Damn. She thought about this a moment.

Win moved into a corner. He took out his cell phone, dialed, started talking.

Myron said, Make me co-counsel.

Crimstein looked up. Excuse me?

As you pointed out last night, I'm a bar-appointed attorney. Make me her attorney, and anything

she tells me falls under attorney-client.

She shook her head. One, that'll never fly. The judge will see it for what it is, a loophole to

make sure you can't testify. Two, it's moronic. Not only will it reek of a desperate defensive

move, but it'll look like we're shutting you up because we have something to hide. Three, you

may still be charged in all this.

How? I already told you. I was in the Caribbean.

Right. Where nobody but Preppy Boy could find you. How convenient.