'Like us,' I said.
'No,' Rita said. 'Not like us.'
'So, tell me about him?'
'First, none of this is for attribution,' Rita said.
She had lowered her voice, though I don't think she realized it.
'What am I, Newsweek?' I said.
'I mean it. You'll have to promise me that you will not tell anyone that I talked to you about Francis Ronan.'
'You sound scared, Rita.'
'I am.'
'I didn't think you were scared of anything.'
'I'm scared of him,' Rita said. 'You should be too.'
'Me? Sir Lancelot?'
'You promise or no?' Rita said.
'I promise.'
'Okay. I'll tell you everything I know about him. But first some free advice.'
'Free?' I said.
'You sure you're a lawyer?'
'Stay away from Francis Ronan. You have a case that brings you into conflict with him, get off the case.'
'Thank you,' I said.
'For what?'
'For the advice.'
'You going to take it?'
'No.'
'I didn't imagine you would,' she said. 'But it was serious advice. What do you want to know.'
'Everything you can tell me,' I said.
Rita leaned forward and spoke so softly that I had to lean forward too.
'He is a legendary lawyer,' Rita said. 'You know that. He is the finest criminal defense lawyer I have ever seen. He's so smart, he's so… what is he… he's so… he wants so badly to win that he commits everything to every defense. Nothing else matters to him as much as getting his client acquitted. He will do anything to win. And he's that way regardless of the merit of his client's case, or, for that matter, the merit of the client.'
'He's represented some very bad people,' I said.
'The worst, and he's won for them. And the best, and he's won for them.'
'And it's made him rich.'
Rita finished her martini and ordered another one. I was still dawdling with mine. Martinis make me sleepy. Consumed at lunch they tend to blow my day, as is true at breakfast.
'Yes. Actually, I think he was always rich. I think his family had money. But he has certainly enlarged his net worth over the years.'
'And he was a judge,' I said.
'Yes. Interestingly, he was not a terribly good judge. He is not judicious. He is not a great legal mind. He is a great litigator. But his judicial rulings were frequently reversed on appeal. He hadn't the patience, or, I guess, the sense of fairness, of'-again Rita looked for a word-'of decency,' she said, 'that makes a good judge.'
'How'd he feel about being overruled?'
'It is said to have driven him mad,' Rita said. 'Have you met him?'
'Yes.'
'Has he an ego?'
'A lot bigger than he is,' I said.
'It's what made him so good as a litigator. The ego. He needed to win.'
Rita had picked up the menu and looked at it as she talked. Now she paused to read it.
'Lobster sandwich looks good,' she said.
'You going to have it?' I said.
'Oh, God no,' she said. 'With these hips, what are you crazy?'
'Those are elegant hips,' I said.
Rita snorted and put down the menu.
