Kill All the Lawyers

'Is that important?'

'I was just wondering how Dr. Bill is your uncle.'

She rolled onto her side. 'It's an honorary title. But I think that makes Bill even more special, don't you?'

The random fortuity of life struck Steve just then. One sunny day, you're walking on the beach and a bird shits on your head. Or if you're really unlucky, a tsunami swamps you and drags you out to sea. But another day, you're going to see a homicidal guy who hates you, and poof, a naked woman appears directly in your path. A woman who could alter the course of several lives. Could do justice where justice has failed. And there she is, like the gatekeeper at a bridge in a Greek myth.

It's almost too coincidental. Okay, strike the 'almost.'

Kreeger always seemed to be one step ahead of him. If Steve had plans for Amanda, surely Kreeger did, too. Steve just wasn't sure what they were.

'Wanna go for a swim?' Amanda asked.

The question threw him.

'Uncle Bill's still with a patient,' she continued. 'We've got time.'

She cocked her head in the direction of Kreeger's office, a converted Florida room facing the yard. Slatted wooden shades appeared to be closed, but it was possible someone on the inside was watching them.

'I don't have a swimsuit.'

'Me, either.'

'I see that.'

Dumb. 'I see that.' Of course you see it, schmuck.

'Nice day for a swim, though,' he said. 'Hot.'

'I love hot days,' Amanda purred.

'I see that.'

Again? 'I see that'? Act natural. Act like you've seen a naked woman or two.

She stretched her arms over her head, yawned, and pointed her toes. The motion was graceful and catlike. Her breasts were small, round, and tan, the nipples the color of copper. She was thin but strong, with developed calves that flexed as she straightened her legs. Carved abs. Farther south, a thin triangular strip of pubic hair ran between two small tattoos, but he couldn't make them out from this distance.

'An arrow and a heart,' she said.

'What?'

'The tats you're staring at.'

'Oh. Well. I wasn't. Staring, I mean. Exactly.'

In retrospect, 'I see that' sounded more intelligent.

'I mean, I was looking at your …uh… landing strip. That's what you call it, right? My girlfriend asked me if she should get one. I guess, technically, you don't 'get one.' It's not like buying a purse, right?'

He was aware he was babbling. What was it about a naked woman that discombobulated a man?

Her nakedness, idiot! Right. I see that.

What happened to his plans? He had wanted to find out everything about Amanda. How long had she known Kreeger? Did he ever talk about Nancy Lamm or Jim Beshears? Would she help Steve? But confronted with a naked woman, logical questions tend to evaporate faster than coconut oil.

'You were Uncle Bill's lawyer, weren't you?' Amanda asked.

'Right.'

Wait a second. I'm supposed to be asking the questions.

'You double-crossed him.'

'He tell you that?'

'Uncle Bill tells me everything.'

'I thought he might. Maybe we can get together and swap stories.'

'Uncle Bill wouldn't like that.'

'Not a date or anything. I just want to talk.'

Amanda gave him a patronizing smile with just a hint of an eyebrow raised above the sunglasses. 'That's what he wouldn't like. Talking about private stuff. Having sex with you he wouldn't mind. If that's what I wanted.'

Oh.

'But I haven't made up my mind about you yet,' she said. She swung her legs out of the chaise and walked toward him. It wasn't a seductive walk. More bouncy and athletic, like a cheerleader, her small breasts not even jiggling. She came up to Steve, as if daring him not to move out of the way. He took the dare, and she stopped six inches in front of him. She took off the sunglasses. Her eyes were a greenish gold. 'I don't know if you'd be as good to me as Uncle Bill. He always puts me first. My pleasures. My desires. That's how he got his honorary title.'

'That's some uncle,' Steve allowed.

'Uncle Bill loves me. And he has for a long time.'

She took a half step toward him, stood on her tippytoes, and kissed Steve lightly on the lips. He didn't kiss back, but he didn't pull away, either. 'But a girl can always have two uncles,' she whispered.

She moved past him, one breast brushing his arm, giving him a last look at her from behind. Bouncing toward the house, calves undulating, her butt high and firm. And just above the crack between her cheeks, another tattoo: an iridescent jellyfish, beautiful and deadly, its tentacles streaming down each buttock.

Nineteen

SHRINK WRAPPED

Ten minutes later, Steve was settling into a brown leather chair in Dr. William Kreeger's home office. The floor was Dade County pine, the stucco walls painted a grayish-green color Steve didn't care for. He once read that shrinks used earth colors to calm their troubled patients. But no beige walls, no corn plant in the corner, no gurgling fish tank with parrotfish and lionfish frolicking through coral caves.

The only personal items were several framed photos on a credenza. Kreeger on a power boat, a big-ass sport fisherman in the fifty-foot range. Best Steve could tell, there were no bodies floating in the water. Then there were a couple of grainy shots taken from videotape: Kreeger on CNN, opining why husbands kill their wives or mothers kill their children, or maybe even why clients kill their lawyers.

'Did you see Amanda on your way in?' Kreeger sat in his own leather chair.

'All of her.' Steve looked toward the wood-slatted windows. Now he was sure Kreeger had been watching them, had planned the whole thing.

'She's a remarkable young woman,' Kreeger said.

'Tell me about her.'

'We're here to talk about you, Solomon. Not her.'

'Hey, you brought it up.'

'All I'll say is this: When I was in prison, Amanda was the only one who wrote me, the only one who cared. And when I got out, she was waiting for me.'

'Seems a little young to be one of those wackos who fall for murderers.'

'You have much to learn, Solomon. And so little time to learn it.' He used a handheld sharpener to grind a fine point on a pencil, then continued. 'Now, what should we discuss first? Your violent temper or your sleazy ethics?'

'That's sweet, Kreeger. You lecturing on ethics is like the Donner Party talking about table manners.'

'I detect antagonism in your voice. Still having difficulty controlling your anger?'

'Aw, shit.'

Kreeger crossed his legs and balanced a leather-bound notebook on his knee. An open leather briefcase, the