Jeremy looked at him. “Hey, how could I?”
“Damned if I know,” Steve said.
They sat in silence.
Jeremy stirred, “Well, come on. Can you help me?”
Steve shook his head. “I’m damned if I know that either.” He took a breath, blew it out again. “But if you want me, kid, I’m your lawyer.”
22
Tracy Garvin looked up from her desk when Steve Winslow came in the front door.
“Get me Mark, Tracy,” Steve said. “We are in deep shit.”
“Yeah, that’s what Mark said.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he said to call him as soon as you got in. He’s got bad news, and more coming every minute.”
“He say what?”
“No, he was on another line. But I’ll tell you, he didn’t seem happy.”
“That makes two of us. Give him a call, get him down here.”
Steve Winslow pushed open the door to his inner office, went in and flopped down in the chair at his desk. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Jesus Christ, what a fucking disaster. Defending some sniveling punk kid who looked like he stepped out of a science fiction magazine. Christ, what was he thinking of? He hadn’t even told the kid to ditch the hair. Have to shave it off, more than likely. Maybe it would grow back before trial. If not, better shaved bald than that fucking green fringe.
Steve chuckled. Christ, what a hypocrite he was. Going into court with his own long hair, looking like a refugee from the sixties, but damned if he’d let his client look like teenagers did now. Well hell, he had good reason, didn’t he? The kid’s liberty was at stake. He’d be guilty of malpractice if he didn’t advise the kid according to his best interests.
If he wasn’t guilty of malpractice already. For giving Jack Walsh advice. For letting him write that fucking holographic will.
The door opened and Tracy Garvin ushered in Mark Taylor.
“The shit’s hit the fan, Steve,” Mark said.
“Yeah, same here. I just hope it’s the same shit.”
“Did Jeremy tell you about the will?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Then that’s no surprise. My pipeline from headquarters’s been checking in all morning, and that’s the first thing he got.”
“All I know is Jack Walsh made a holographic will leaving everything to Jeremy Dawson and gave it to Jeremy to keep. You got anything more than that?”
Taylor shook his head. “That’s the scoop on the will, all right.”
“Any chance of seein’ a copy?”
“Not a prayer. The cops have it sewed up tight, and they won’t give it out till the D.A. says so. And from what I gather, that won’t be until they show it to the grand jury.”
“At which point I’ll be able to get a copy,” Steve said. “Big deal. Is that the bad news?”
“That’s just for starters. You know Walsh picked up Jeremy at his school yesterday?”
“Yeah. They got witnesses to that?”
“Sure thing. And that ain’t the half of it. They got a witness saw them in the subway station.”
“66th Street Station?”
“Yeah.”
“What time?”
“That’s the only saving grace. No one’s sayin’. And you’d think if it was around the time of the murder, they would.”
Steve frowned. “Yeah, maybe. Who’s the witness?”
“That’s hush-hush, and that’s the other good news. The cops won’t say.”
“Oh?”
“Right. And the way I figure, that means it’s unreliable. Speculation is it’s most likely another homeless.”
Steve frowned. “I see. Is that it?”
Taylor shook his head. “Wish it were. I saved the worst for last.”
“What’s that?”
“The kid’s a crack dealer.”
Steve Winslow’s jaw dropped open. “What!?”
Mark Taylor shook his head. “Sorry to be the one to bring it to you. But that’s the word. Jeremy Dawson sells crack.”
“You sure?”
“No, I’m just reporting what my men dug up.”
“No, damn it, I mean what’s the source? Has he ever been busted? Does he have a record?”
“No, not unless you count bein’ suspended from school. But as far as a police record, he’s clean.”
“What about the school suspension-they catch him with the stuff?”
Taylor shook his head. “No, the way I get it, some honor student ratted on him. The principal called him in and suspended him for two days.”
“Did he admit it?”
“Would you expect him to?”
“No.”
“Then he probably didn’t. I don’t know. This is all just gossip. We haven’t interviewed the principal yet. So far, we’re pokin’ into this very low key.”
“The cops know this?”
“I’m sure they do. I have no direct confirmation, but it’s the sort of thing they don’t miss.”
Steve shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
“Puts you in a hell of a position, doesn’t it?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Still gonna represent him?”
“I told him I would.”
“That was before you knew this.”
“So?”
“So the kid lied to you. At least, held out on you. Got you to represent him under false pretenses.”
“What if he did?”
“I’m saying you got a perfect right to back out.”
“Why? Because the kid didn’t say, ‘By the way, I happen to be a crack dealer?’ Can you imagine any teenager in the world who would?”
“I can’t imagine any teenage
Steve looked at him. “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”
Taylor took a breath. “Look, Steve. You only had two cases. Your last one, you did real good. You did real good on both of ‘em, but the last one, you came off
“Thanks a lot.”
“Look, you know what I mean. You turned things around in terms of your career. Now you got a chance to
