Show of Evil

'Not really.'

'Listen to me carefully, please. You have to - may I call you Edith? Good. You have to realize that even if you did kill him-'

'I did kill him!'

'Okay. But you still must give your lawyer all your help so he or she can deal a proper sentence for you. Even if you don't go to trial, let whoever the judge assigns to the case save you as much time as possible.'

'I don't want a trial, I told you that,' Stoddard said as firmly as she could.

'It won't be a trial, it will be a plea bargain. It will be worked out between your lawyer and the prosecution.'

'Mr Vail?'

'Yes, or one of his prosecutors.'

'Will it be made public, the negotiations?'

'No.'

'I don't know. I just… I want to get it all over with. My life is ruined anyway.'

'Edith, who's going to take care of your husband? What's to become of your daughter?'

'I'll be gone for years, anyway. What's the difference?'

'If we can get this reduced down to, say, first - or possibly second-degree manslaughter, your sentence could be as light as, oh, ten years. You could be out in four or five. That gives both of them hope. It's not like you'd be going away for ever.'

Stoddard stood up and walked to the window. She stared out at the brightly lit highway in front of the criminal building, watched a semi lumber by, listened to a dog barking somewhere far off in the night. She sighed very deeply and seemed to collapse into herself.

'Will you do it?' she asked, turning back to Venable.

'Do what?'

'Handle it for me?'

'I'll get you to court tomorrow. Then - '

'No. I mean handle it all the way.'

'I have -'

'It's just sitting with Mr Vail and working it out, isn't it? Can that take so much time?'

'It's not time, it's… I haven't done this for years. I'm afraid I'm rusty. There are other lawyers out there more qualified than I am.'

'Then let me go ahead and tell the police what they want to know.'

Venable sighed. She looked at the small woman for a moment. 'Will you level with me?' she asked. 'Tell me everything I need to know to make the best deal for you?'

'It depends.'

'On what?'

'On what you want to know.'

Corchran's was a run- down mahogany and brass steak-house that smelled of beer and cigarette smoke. It was located a block from the river near the old Sun-Times building and had been a favoured hangout of Vail's for years. Two tired middleweights were waltzing each other on the big-screen TV in one corner and there was a noisy dart game in progress near the front of the restaurant. A dozen regulars sat at the bar watching the last round of the fight and yelling at the screen as Vail and Venable entered the tavern.

'You do know all the right places, Vail,' she said, looking around the noisy watering hole.

'Best steaks in town,' Vail said. 'Come on, it's quiet in the back.'

They found a booth in a tiny back room that was shielded from the din. A sign over the archway into the niche said LADIES ROOM. It was decorated with facsimiles of old cigarette and beer ads.

'I can see why there's nobody back here.' She snorted. 'No self-respecting lady would be caught dead in here. They ought to be up front with it and call the place the Chauvinist Pit.' She brushed breadcrumbs off the cushions with a napkin before she sat down.

'You didn't tell me you've turned into a snob,' Vail joked.