'I'll try to do better,' I said.
'Be a good idea,' Cromwell said. 'Now what we don't need is somebody coming along and poking around and riling everybody up again.'
I was back to nodding again. Cromwell liked nodding.
'So, who hired you?' Cromwell said.
I thought about that for a moment. On the one hand, there was no special reason not to tell him. Healy knew. DiBella already knew. On the other hand, it didn't do my career any good to spill my client's name to every cop who asked. Besides, he was annoying me. I shook my head.
'You're not a lawyer,' Cromwell said. 'You have no privilege.'
'When I'm employed by an attorney on behalf of a client, there is some extension of privilege,' I said.
'Who's the lawyer?' Cromwell said.
'I'm not employed by a lawyer,' I said.
'Than what the hell are you talking about?' Cromwell said.
'I rarely know,' I said.
I smiled my winning smile.
'What's our policy on wiseasses around here?' Cromwell said.
'Zero tolerance,' I said. 'Except for me.'
Cromwell didn't say anything for a time. He folded his arms across his narrow chest and looked at me with his deadeyed cop look. I waited.
Finally, he said, 'Let me make this as clear and as simple as I can. We don't want you around here, nosing into a case that is already closed.'
I nodded.
'And we are prepared to make it very unpleasant for you if you persist.'
I nodded.
'You have anything to say to that?' Cromwell said.
'How about, Great Caesar's Ghost!' I said.
Cromwell kept the dead-eyed stare on me.
'Or maybe just an audible swallow,' I said.
Cromwell kept the stare.
'A little pallor?' I said.
Cromwell stared at me some more.
'Get the hell out of here,' Cromwell said finally.
I stood.
'You must have screwed this up pretty bad,' I said.
'If you're smart, you son of a bitch,' Cromwell said, 'you won't be back.'
'I never claimed smart,' I said, and walked out the door. At least he didn't shoot me.
Chapter 6
FRESH FROM MY TRIUMPH with the Chief of Police, I thought I might as well go and charm the kid's lawyer, too. Richard Leeland had an office in a small shopping center, upstairs over the village grocery. From his window you could look at the eighteenth-century meeting house which lent New England authenticity to the town common, so you wouldn't get confused and think you were in Chicago.
'Wow,' he said, 'a private eye. We don't run into many private eyes out here.'
'Your loss,' I said.
'I'm sure,' Leeland said. 'May I ask you a question?'
He was a tall, slim man with a well-tanned bald head. He looked like he'd be good at tennis or bike riding.
'Sure.'
'Who hired you to try and clear Jared?'
'You don't know?' I said.
Leeland smiled.
'It's why I'm asking,' he said.
I thought about it for a minute. It made no sense that he didn't know, and it made no sense for me to keep secrets from my client's lawyer.
'His grandmother,' I said.
'Oh, God,' Leeland said, 'Lily.'
