'I don't have that kind of money.'
'I thought you were doing okay with the girls and the other stuff.'
'I was until the cops busted me. I haven't been able to run Exotic for months and I've had to lay low with the other stuff. Besides, you know I don't keep everything that comes in. There are other people who . . . you know.'
Dupre grew intentionally vague, nervous about phone taps.
'Well, what can you come up with?' Baron asked.
'Right now? Maybe fifty.'
'That's not even enough to get started in a case like this, Jon.'
'I'm good for it, Oscar. I've always paid you.'
'This is a death-penalty case. They're expensive. What about your parents? They have dough.'
'My parents will probably cheer when they hear about my arrest. They cut me off when I was kicked out of college.'
'Well, why don't you think it over, Jon, and give me a call,' Baron suggested, anxious to get away now that it looked like Dupre couldn't come up with his retainer.
'This is bullshit,' Dupre said, glaring at Baron through the glass. 'You can't bail on me, you greedy fuck.'
Baron shot to his feet and glared back, very brave with a concrete wall and bulletproof glass keeping Dupre at bay.
'This greedy fuck just beat a case for you, you ungrateful shit.'
Dupre didn't want Baron to leave him. He had to get out of jail.
'Hey, man, I'm sorry. Calm down, okay? I'm locked up and I'm a little tense.'
The lawyer sat down, feigning reluctance. Dupre might be bluffing to get Baron to lower his retainer. Dupre's next words dashed his hopes.
'What if I can't get the money?'
'Tell the judge. He'll appoint you a lawyer.'
'A public defender!' Dupre was livid. 'I'm not risking my life with a free lawyer.'
'Hey, they're okay, Jon. They screen them for murder cases. You'll probably get someone good.' Baron looked at his watch. 'Gee, I didn't realize the time. I've got someone waiting at the office. Meanwhile, see if you can get the dough for my retainer. You need a pro and I'm the best.'
Dupre's hand tightened on the receiver.
'We'll be in touch,' Baron said, backing out of the room. As soon as he was in the corridor, the attorney breathed a sigh of relief. He hated dealing with angry clients, especially loose cannons like Dupre. Of course it was different if they could pay, but that didn't look likely. Too bad, a quarter of a million dollars would have been nice.
Chapter Twelve.
Once a month, Tim, Cindy, and Megan Kerrigan ate dinner with Tim's father and fourth wife in the oak- paneled dining room at the Westmont Country Club. These dinners were an ordeal for Tim, but Cindy, who found William Kerrigan charming, insisted on the ritual. Cindy also got along with Francine Kerrigan, who was twenty years younger than Tim's father and had the tight, sun-baked skin of a woman who sat poolside at expensive resorts all year, and a figure kept trim by starvation.
When they arrived at the club the night after Jon Dupre's arrest, Tim saw that his father had invited some other guests. Harvey Grant was seated at the table, along with Burton Rommel, a wealthy businessman who was prominent in the Republican Party, and Rommel's wife, Lucy.
William Kerrigan sported a year-round tan, had a full head of snow-white hair, and kept himself trim by working out in his home gym. Tim didn't see much of his father while he was growing up. Most of his energy had gone into his company, Sun Investments, but he did surface just often enough to make Tim aware of his disappointment in his only child. For instance, William let Tim know of his extreme displeasure when Tim chose 'a state school' over the University of Pennsylvania, William's alma mater. He was appalled when Tim refused to pursue a multimillion-dollar career in pro football, and he had been dumbfounded when his son opted for a low- paying job in the district attorney's office. While she was alive, Tim's mother had been a buffer between father and son. When she died, Tim was saddled with a string of ever younger stepmothers who showed no interest in him at all, and a father who was around even less than before.
During the dinners at the Westmont, it was quite common for William to mention business opportunities with high earning potential, which Tim could pursue if he left the public sector. Tim always smiled politely and promised to consider them, while praying that someone would change the subject. Tonight, William was quieter than normal, but Harvey Grant picked up the slack, charming the women with titillating pieces of gossip, prodding the men to embellish their golfing accomplishments, and engaging Megan in conversation so she didn't feel out of place among the grownups.
'We had a tea party this morning,' Megan told the judge. 'Like Alice and the Mad Hatter.'
'Were you the Mad Hatter?' Grant asked.
'Of course not.'
'Were you the Dormouse?'
'No,' Megan laughed.
