Kill All the Lawyers

'You read the history junk?' she asked.

He mumbled a 'yeah' through the pain.

'The Civil War has too many battles,' she complained. 'I can't remember them all.'

Bobby thought about saying he'd memorized the battles alphabetically from Antietam to Zollicoffer. But that would sound so dorky. 'For the quiz, just know Gettysburg and both Bull Runs,' he said.

'There's so much to read.' A faint whine, but coming from her parted lips, it sounded musical.

Antietam, Bachelor's Creek. Chickamauga, Devil's Backbone, Ezra Church. .

He couldn't help it. His brain was reciting Civil War battles from A to Z.

'Do you think you could help me?' she asked.

'You mean. . study together?'

'I could come over to your house after school.'

He tossed his shoulders, as if that would be okay, but no big deal. 'Sure. Cool. You know where I live?'

She smiled, perfect teeth, the orthodonture having been removed at the beginning of the school year. 'I know it's gotta be close. I've seen you outside my house.'

Busted!

'I, uh. . walk. . sometimes. The neighborhood. Kumquat. Loquat. Avocado. .'

Shut up already! You sound like a total wingnut.

'My hood, too.' She stood up, and so did Bobby, miraculously managing not to drop his books or bang his shins into the locker.

'Give me your address,' she said. 'I'll come over around four.'

Bobby wrote the address on a slip of paper. He knew that some people couldn't remember things the way he could.

'I'll bring some DVDs,' Maria said. 'If we get done early, maybe we can just hang and watch a movie.'

'Great. Have you ever seen A Cinderella Story? It's pretty cool.'

'Are you kidding! I love that movie. I've seen it like a zillion times.'

Another smile, and she spun on her heel and headed off, breathing a 'See ya later' over her perfect shoulder.

Holy shit.

Maria Munoz-Goldberg was coming to his house with her history book, her DVDs, and her black panties. He watched her walk toward home room, the symphony of her voice still echoing in his brain, along with. .

Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Harper's Ferry, Irish Bend, Jenkins' Ferry, Kennesaw Mountain. .

The names wouldn't stop. But they were so soft, he could still hear Maria's voice and could still see her parted lips, warm and sugary in his brain.

Three

GAFF FROM THE PAST

Steve parked the car and admired the twenty-foot-high likeness of himself. It was a part of the day he always enjoyed.

The two-story mural was painted on the chipped stucco wall of Les Mannequins, the modeling agency where Solomon amp; Lord maintained its offices. There was Steve, sitting on the edge of a desk, wearing a charcoal gray suit, reading a law book. Something he never wore, something he never did. Standing next to him was Victoria, in a ruby red knit suit with a two-button, ruffled-trim jacket, her breasts fuller, her hips rounder than in real life.

Artistic license.

Then the caption, in fancy script:

Solomon and Lord, Attorneys-at-Law

The Wisdom of Solomon, the Strength of the Lord

Call (555) UBE-FREE

Victoria had been appalled, of course. 'Cheesy' and 'blasphemous' were two of her kinder adjectives. The mural was the handiwork of Henri Touissant, a sixteen-year-old Steve had represented in Juvenile Court. One of the best graffiti artists in Little Haiti, Henri was busted while tagging an overpass with a drawing of President Bush having intimate relations with a goat. 'Profound political satire,' Steve argued in the lad's defense. The judge gave Henri probation, and Steve hired him to paint the mural, in lieu of attorney's fees.

Now, heading into the building, Steve was plagued by a question that had been bothering him all morning.

Just how much should I tell Victoria?

It was one of the recurring issues of their relationship, both professional and personal. He'd been more open with Victoria than with any other woman he'd ever known. Of course, he'd never cared for any other woman with the depth of feelings he had for her.

But she can be so damn judgmental.

Steve remembered the fireworks in Bobby's guardianship case. Faced with the possibility that the state would take his nephew away, Steve had secretly paid Janice, his drug-addled sister, to change her testimony. When Victoria found out, she exploded.

'You can't bribe a witness.'

'I'm paying her to tell the truth. If I don't, she'll lie and we'll lose.'

'It's still illegal.'

'When are you gonna grow up? When the law doesn't work, you've got to work the law.'

Smack. Vic slapped him. Hard. Sparring partners instead of law partners.

So just how would Victoria react if he told her the truth?

'Oh, by the way, Vic. State versus Kreeger. Forgot to tell you. I tanked the case.'

She'd clobber him with his Barry Bonds rock-hard maple baseball bat. Or his Mark McGwire, Jose Canseco, or Rafael Palmeiro models. Steve favored bats by baseball's most notoriously juiced players.

Or maybe not. Would she even believe him?

'You took a dive? You, the guy who cheats to win?'

As he walked through the front door, Steve decided to tell Victoria everything about the Kreeger case. What he did and why he did it.

Women appreciate honesty. He'd read that in one of Victoria's magazines, a relationship column tucked away in the ads for overpriced Italian footwear. Expose your doubts, express your fears, confess your weaknesses, and she'll be understanding and forgiving.

Okay, he'd bare his soul. He'd do it today. He made that promise to himself. He wished he had a Bible to swear on, wondering what happened to the one he lifted from a hotel room in Orlando.

'Ste-vie! Ste-vie!' A high-pitched whine.

'Wait up!' A second voice. Louder and more insistent.

The shouts came from somewhere between the photo studio and the wardrobe room.

Damn. If I don't hustle, they'll cut me off at the stairs.

'Stevie, wait!'

Steve heard the clackety-clack of leather hoofbeats, and in a second there they were. Lexy and Rexy. Pale blond twins. Models, six feet tall. As litigious as they were leggy.

One wore florescent orange spandex shorts and a white halter top. The other was in Daisy Duke cutoffs with a leopard-print halter. Both wore strappy sandals with stiletto heels that could take out an eye.