that's what I know. Not against them.'
'Not against who? What people like you?'
'Poor people, working people, goddamn it. Against the people who have money.'
'Jennifer's got some money, Tom,' Phil said.
'It's not her money, Pop, and you know it. It's Larry's money. That's what this is all about, and the rest is all just bullshit! They want their money back.'
'Who does?' Hardy asked.
'They're not letting her in. She just doesn't fit, does she? Just like we don't, like Larry cut us out. Except Jen tried to crash her way in, didn't she? Married her fancy doctor. Drove her fancy car. Tried to be one of them. And they don't forgive you for that, do they? They go get you for that…'
'Nobody's trying to get her, Tom-'
'Mom, you don't see. You buy their crap. That's what's kept us down-'
'Tom, stop it!' Phil stepped between his son and his wife but Tom now turned it on him. 'Oh yeah, sure. And you'll take anything, Pop, won't you?'
It happened in an instant. Phil's hand flashed and rocked his son, hard, open-palmed, high on the cheek. The noise resounded in the hallway. 'Don't dare use that tone with me!'
The men were squared off, Nancy now between them. She had started crying. Tom backed up, glaring at his parents. 'Aw, screw it,' he said finally, turning, running off down the hallway.
His mother turned to the two attorneys. 'I'm sorry for my son. He thinks the world…' She let it hang, tears in her eyes.
This was the moment. Defenses were down. Freeman figured he could use it. He went after Phil. 'Did you see Jennifer often, Mr. DiStephano? I mean, do you visit each other?'
'Well, sure. She's my daughter, isn't she? We're all close, even Tom… he's just got a hot head. Like you said in there, it's why we're here today.'
Freeman turned to Mrs. DiStephano.
She shook her head. 'We haven't seen them in years.'
Phil tried to put a face on it. 'Hey, Larry was a busy man. It wasn't that he didn't-'
Nancy cut him off. 'Larry wouldn't let her. We never saw any of them. Never.'
Hardy, Freeman and Lightner watched Jennifer's mother walk off stiffly, a step behind her husband. A young couple emerged from one of the doors behind them, hugging and laughing – maybe Thomasino had just given one of them a break.
Freeman, Mr. Small Talk, turned to the psychiatrist Lightner: 'So what's her defense, Doctor?'
Relaxed, hands in his pockets, Lightner didn't have to think about it. He nodded up the hall after Jennifer's parents. 'Slightly dysfunctional, wouldn't you say? I'd kind of expect it.'
'You'd kind of expect it,' Hardy repeated. They started moving through the crowd, toward the elevators. Hardy and Freeman were going upstairs to see Jennifer, find out if they had a client.
Lightner was nodding. 'You just saw an object lesson. It's generational, you know. Father batters mother and children. Children go on to batter their own-'
'Who's battering who?' Freeman asked.
Lightner stopped. 'No, no… I mean, Larry, of course.'
'Larry was battering Jennifer?' This was news to Hardy. Probably to Freeman. Perhaps not to Powell. In any event, Jennifer hadn't mentioned it.
Freeman was a step ahead of them. 'If you're talking burning bed, I think the boy is a problem there.'
The 'burning bed' had been gaining a good deal of momentum in legal circles as a valid defense for killing. When a spouse had been battered long enough, juries in several cases had decided that killing the abusive spouse was justified as a form of self-defense, even if the actual event took place during a period of relative calm, as for example when the abuser was asleep. This was far beyond the usual legal standard for self-defense, when the person being attacked was in imminent danger of being killed.
'Why is Matt a problem?' Lightner asked.
'Because battered wives don't kill their children,' Freeman said. 'If she was a battered wife.'
'She was. And it might have been unintentional, if it happened while she was defending herself.'
'That would be a tough sell to a jury,' Freeman said.
'You think she did it?' Hardy asked abruptly.
For the first time, Lightner appeared to think carefully about an answer. 'She had reason to,' he said.
Hardy didn't like this. Another person, not even in the prosecution's loop, with the so-called informed opinion that his client 'had reason' to kill her husband. 'Because her husband abused her?'
'Not, of course, that having a reason means she did it,' Lightner was quick to add.
Hardy squared around on the psychiatrist. 'What exactly are you saying?'
'I'm certainly not saying she did it, Mr. Hardy. I am saying you perhaps ought to read the literature. People become crazed in the situation Jennifer was in. Understandably so. I'm saying that if that happened to Jennifer, if she was as horribly abused as I suspect-'
'I thought you just said-'
'-then that should be a central part of her defense. And that's all I'm saying, Mr. Hardy.'
Covering her both ways, Hardy thought.
The elevator arrived. 'We're going up.' Freeman dismissed him, then softened it. 'Thanks for the input.'
'You're very welcome. Please call on me any time.' And Lightner disappeared behind the closing doors.
They were waiting for Jennifer to be brought into the women's visiting room. Freeman was going over more of the file; Hardy sat across the small table taking in the view through the window – a female guard filing papers in an ancient metal cabinet.
'You know' – he didn't turn around – 'a man of your sensitivity and experience ought to be able to do this alone.' Hardy had had to be talked into returning to the seventh floor. It was not a pleasant place.
'She hasn't met me yet.' Freeman did not stop his reading.
'She just met you downstairs, remember? Department 22. Big room, judge in the front.' Freeman raised his rheumy eyes. Hardy came around the table, hovering over him. 'You know, one of my beliefs is that everybody should try to get some sleep every night.'
'I get enough,' Freeman growled.
'Beauty rest, then, you could use more beauty rest.'
'Look.' Changing tracks. 'We may not be doing this at all. I want it, don't get me wrong, but if there's no fee… and then there's the fact that I wouldn't blame her at all if she dumped me right now on her own. Her reaction to me was something less than warm. To combat that eventuality I've asked you to accompany me – she seemed to relate to you for some unknown reason. Maybe you can at least buffer things at the beginning here. I explained this once.'
'I know. I even understood it.'
'What, then?'
'Just trying to lighten you up, David. We've already lost one downstairs. We want this case, we might want to slap on a little of the suave.'
Freeman gave him a face. 'I don't do suave.' But he forced a weary grin. 'That's why I need you.'
They were getting through the first minutes. Jennifer, tight, said nothing while Freeman explained the bail situation – how there just wasn't much any attorney could do in a capital case such as hers. It was also a sales pitch of sorts – defense work might be Freeman's vocation, but it was also his livelihood, and he felt obliged to nail
