“Two plainclothes cops come down the hall escorted by an academic looking gentleman with the word “principal” written all over him. They go into the classroom. Two minutes later the cops come out escorting Jeremy between ’em.”
“In handcuffs?”
“Yeah.”
“Was he talkin’?”
“What?”
“Jeremy. Was he talkin’? Protesting? Sayin’ anything?”
“No. The way I get it, he was just walking between ‘em lookin’ absolutely stunned.”
“Well, that’s something.”
“Incidentally, my men got what they came for, which don’t matter much now, with the kid’s arrest. Still, it’s a confirmation.”
“Of what?”
“That Jack Walsh was there yesterday. At least two students saw an old bum prowling the corridors. I got no one saw him actually leave with Jeremy, but it’s a cinch he did, ’cause I found a kid says Jeremy cut his last class.”
“Oh shit.”
“Yeah, it’s a mess all right. And if the cops got onto Jeremy, that means they know who Jack Walsh is. I mean, they’re on to the fact he’s got money and the whole bit.”
Steve sighed, rubbed his head.
Tracy Garvin looked up from the notes she’d been taking. “Where does that leave you?” she said.
Steve looked up. “What?”
“Well,” Tracy said. “Jack Walsh was your client. He’s dead. Maybe I’m not understanding this, but what’s your involvement now?”
Steve shook his head. “Except for the fact I haven’t got a client, my involvement’s the same as when I started.”
“Which is?”
Steve shrugged. “The hell of it is, I don’t know. Perhaps none. On the other hand, I could be an accessory before and after the fact to fraud.”
“How’s that?” Taylor said.
“In case someone shows up with a holographic will purporting to be entirely in Jack Walsh’s handwriting. Then I’m in one hell of a position, ’cause I have every reason to believe that will would be fraudulent.”
“Right,” Tracy said.
“And that’s just the legal aspect of it. The fact is, I got Jack Walsh out of Bellevue and now he’s dead. If I hadn’t interfered, he’d still be alive.”
“You can’t look at it that way,” Taylor said.
“Oh yeah? How the hell am I supposed to look at it?”
Steve picked up an envelope from his desk, reached in and pulled out a check. “This came this morning. Five thousand bucks from Jack Walsh for services rendered.”
“You feel bad takin’ it?” Taylor said.
Steve smiled. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Yes, I feel bad, and no, I’m not takin’ it.”
Taylor stared at him. “Why not?”
“Relax, Mark. I’m not so high principled as all that. The fact is, the check’s worthless.”
“What?” Taylor said.
“Why?” Tracy asked.
“Because Jack Walsh is dead. That freezes his account. You can’t cash a check on a dead man.”
“Oh shit,” Taylor said.
“So it’s worse than I thought,” Tracy said. “You got no client and you just lost your fee. Plus you got detectives working overtime on this thing.”
“Hey, easy,” Taylor said. “You trying to get me fired?”
“No, I’m just pointing out-”
Steve held up his hand. “I understand. This may not he good business practice, but it’s what I want to do. Stay on the job, Mark, until I tell you different. The fact is, I fucked up, and I’m gonna do what I can to straighten things out.”
“With a dead client and no fee?”
Steve nodded. “Unfortunately, that’s the case.”
The phone rang. Steve scooped it up. “Steve Winslow … Uh huh … Uh huh … sit tight, I’ll be right there.”
Steve hung up the phone and stood up. “O.K., that changes the situation. Get ready to swing into high gear, Mark. Tracy, I still don’t have a fee, but now I got a client.”
“Oh?”
“That’s Jeremy Dawson calling from the lockup. The cops just gave him his one phone call.”
“They charge him?” Taylor said.
“Sure thing.”
“What’d they charge him with.”
“What do you think? The murder of Jack Walsh.”
21
Jeremy Dawson looked through the wire mesh screen of the visiting room of the lockup. “You gotta get me out of here, man.”
Steve Winslow smiled. “That may not be so easy.”
“Hey, man, like don’t say that. I gotta get out of here.”
“I understand. But you happen to be charged with murder.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t do it.”
Steve smiled. “That’s what they all say.”
Jeremy stared at him. “Hey, man, whose side are you on?”
“Your side, of course. I’m just telling you how the police see it.”
“Yeah, well they see it wrong.”
“So what’s right?”
“Huh?”
“Look, I know you wanna get out of here. I’ll do the best I can. But I don’t wanna give you any false hopes. We have a serious situation here. The police seem to think they have a case. So what you gotta do is calm down, stop thinkin’ about how much you wanna get out of here, and tell me what happened. If you do that, you just might get out of here, but stop thinkin’ about that for now.”
Jeremy rubbed his hand over his green mohawk. “Yeah, easy for you to say. I’m the one sittin’ here.”
Steve shrugged. “I could always come back later.”
“What?” Jeremy said.
“All right, look,” Steve said. “You’re a kid. You’re also an orphan. Your relatives ain’t much, and you probably had a hard life. I’m sure you’re an expert at complaining and telling people how you been fucked over. But the point is, I don’t want to hear it. You’re up against a murder now. The prosecutor isn’t gonna give a shit about what’s fair or unfair or the whole bit. And if we get that far, a jury isn’t gonna care either.
“So take a deep breath, get all that shit out of your mind, and let’s talk about what happened.”
Jeremy stared at Steve for a moment. Then he lowered his head. Steve smiled slightly as he noticed Jeremy actually
