Unfit to Practice

As an attorney practicing in California, she has a duty to uphold the highest standards of ethics and legal behavior, and in those two arenas, she has failed. I respectfully request that the state bar open an inquiry into her legal practice, which I think will result in the exposure of further illegal or immoral activities.

I am available for any questions and look forward to your response.

Sincerely,

Kevin Cruz

Attached to the letter was another letter, this one an original, from Kevin Cruz, firing her as his attorney of record.

Without a word, she handed the letters to Sandy.

Sandy read the first letter, fixing on every word, while Nina struggled to keep control. What she wanted to do was laugh, laugh loudly, uproariously-

“Sure hope at least he was hot in the sack,” Sandy said.

That did it. Nina started to chuckle, and that grew into laughing, and she went to the window, tearing up from her laughter, and said, her back turned to her secretary, “Sandy-ha, ha, ha-what a staggering day of heartbreaking shit. Sandy, I’m so screwed.”

Silence. Then, “I find that objectionable,” Sandy said calmly.

Nina stopped laughing, although she had to work hard to do it. “I’m-I’m sorry if I offended you,” she managed to say.

“It’s not offensive enough,” Sandy said. “Change it to you’re fucked, and I’m with you.”

Their laughter boiled up and overflowed. Sandy had a weird laugh, a sort of hupping laugh, hilarious really. “You want-hup, hup-some more cognac?”

“That’s a good one-ha, ha, a new tradition-I’ll pass-”

“Save it for-the-hup, hup-boyfriend-good idea,” Sandy said. “Hoo, boy. Ah.” She dug a tissue out of a box on Nina’s desk and wiped her eyes. “Girl,” she said, “life is cold.”

Nina sobered. “You’ve got that right.” She sat down heavily. “Kevin. Kevin. Why?”

“I never liked that guy.”

“I did, at first.”

“How’s he think he’s going to get away with this? Don’t you have to be able to prove what you say?”

Nina said, “I’ll bet he’s got proof.”

“Of what? That very bad scene you told me about?”

Nina nodded. “Photos or a video, carefully cut. Two scenes. One outside the restaurant across the street. A clinch. The other, at his condo. Heavy petting. Carefully edited. Heck, he’s probably got love letters. Like my new Vang intake notes that I didn’t write.”

“Why would he do this to you?”

“I lost the hearing. That’s enough reason, if you’re unbalanced and obsessed. But wait, the files were taken the day before we lost. He lost because the files were taken. So-he didn’t take the files. This is-could this be separate?”

“Can any of this help him get his kids back?”

“I don’t see how. From a judge’s point of view, it makes him look worse.”

“He’s a cop. He would know how to steal a car. Maybe he’s got some gripe against you about some old case.”

“Could be.”

“He’s your enemy.”

“No question, but, Sandy, today’s pattern is no coincidence. Three files, three disasters all at once, as if timed for maximum impact. Kevin’s just one of the three. Maybe he has been set up, too.”

“You know that powwow Joe and I organized? Someone told a story there about a big bird that lived at Lake Tahoe that ate the people. An old man was carried up to its nest and found himself lying next to a corpse. He took a piece of obsidian he had with him and stuck it inside the corpse. Then he watched the bird finish off the corpse and listened to the bird howling when he felt the pain of that sharp rock inside. When the bird died, he cut off its wing and used that to get back down to the lake. He told the people the bird was dead and they celebrated. Now they were safe.”

“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this story, Sandy.”

“Put some rocks in your pocket. Don’t be afraid to play dirty.”

“I have to call Jack.” Nina went into her office. The California State Bar would be calling soon. She needed to get ready.

Book Three

March

She walked to the podium, warm under the spotlights. In front of her on a high dais sat three justices of the First District Court of Appeals, San Francisco Division, three wise old men in solemn black robes.

Today was her first day in court.

They watched her, maybe a little curious because they had never seen her before. She set her notes in front of her, the tabbed background material, the appellate briefs. Behind her and to the side she felt the eyes of the deputy attorney general opposing her on the appeal and the many other lawyers here today to argue their cases. Her mouth felt full of cotton and her head felt-empty.

She had so much to fear, and so much at stake, and yet this wasn’t even her case. She was a substitute for another lawyer who was in the hospital.

For one whole week she had immersed herself in the issues, driven down to Soledad Prison to talk with the client, studied every case in the briefs, reviewed the evidence. The voice in her head that always stood in the way got louder every day, saying, you can’t do this. You’re not good enough. You haven’t had enough time handling this case. You’ll be tongue-tied and the whole court will laugh at you.

You will lose.

But other times, as she sat at her desk in the lamplight long after closing hours, searching for just the right words to persuade the justices that her client deserved another trial, a new feeling would well up in her: a determination to win. She couldn’t fail him. She had to act as a conduit, expressing the principles that would result in justice for him.

She dealt with the seesaw between fear and determination by working harder and longer. The night before the argument, at 4:00 A.M., Bobby woke her up, crying. She gave him some water and led him to the bathroom, then helped him back into his little bed.

I have a child, she thought to herself before going back to sleep, I have this child and have kept him alive. What could be harder or more important than that?

The morning scheduled for arguments in her case dawned in the traditional San Francisco way: foggy, cool, mysterious. She dressed in her black suit and wore her mother’s watch. At the courthouse downtown, standing outside the doors, Nina experienced one more moment of savage fright. A man’s liberty was at stake. His defense was entrusted to her, and who was she? Just a young woman without much self-confidence, not brilliant, not impressive, not experienced-who was she against the state of California?

Her case was called. She walked to the podium, under the lights. She laid down her papers and set her mind on her client, Klaus, her mother, all the people who had supported her over the long, lonely years and brought her to this place.

She opened her mouth and began to speak.

EXHIBIT ONE

OFFICE OF TRIAL COUNSEL

STATE BAR OF CALIFORNIA

Gayle Nolan, NO. 101447

Attorney at Law

555B Franklin Street

San Francisco, CA 94102

555/698-4947

THE STATE BAR COURT

THE STATE BAR OF CALIFORNIA

HEARING DEPARTMENT-SAN FRANCISCO

In the Matter of

Nina F. Reilly, No. 379168

A Member of the State Bar

TO: NINA FOX REILLY, Respondent herein:

IF YOU FAIL TO FILE AN ANSWER TO THIS NOTICE WITHIN THE TIME ALLOWED BY STATE BAR RULES, INCLUDING EXTENSIONS, YOU MAY BE ENROLLED AS AN INVOLUNTARY INACTIVE MEMBER OF THE STATE BAR AND WILL NOT BE PERMITTED TO PRACTICE LAW UNTIL AN ANSWER IS FILED.

You were admitted to the practice of law in the state of California on January 12, 1994. Pursuant to Rule 510, Rules of Procedure of the State Bar of California, reasonable cause has been found to