Kill All the Lawyers

'You need to talk about it, is that it?' Steve said, coming back to the desk. 'All these years, you've carried this around. Maybe you needed to talk about it when I defended you. Maybe I missed the signs.'

Kreeger chanted, as if praying: 'Lo-lee-ta. A-man-da. Ma-ri-a.' Then he laughed, the cackling laugh of a rooster. 'You think Robert's popped Maria's cherry yet?'

Steve didn't even try to hide his disgust. 'You don't want help. You just want to wallow in the filth.'

'Or have you beat him to it, Solomon? Bird-dogging your nephew's little hoochie?'

'They should send your sick ass to Raiford. You killed Nancy Lamm so you could be with her daughter.'

'You know better than that.' Kreeger's smile was as sharp as a knife blade. 'Or don't you believe a naked woman? Amanda killed her mother, and I took the fall for her. Just as you would have done.'

'What does that mean?'

'Let's say that young Robert got rough with Maria and the poor girl died.'

'What sick fantasies are you working on now?'

'Just a hypothetical question, Solomon. If Robert killed Maria, wouldn't you do anything to keep him out of prison? Wouldn't you even take the rap for him?'

'That's not what happened with Nancy Lamm. That's just the story you sold a thirteen-year-old girl to keep her in your bed. What drugs did you have her on when you convinced her she killed her mother?'

'Now that I think about it,' Kreeger mused, 'there is one big difference between the two of us. I admit who I am, and you pretend to be someone completely different than who you are.'

Back in the car, Bobby knew he was in for a goofy lecture. Uncle Steve seemed petrified that any day Bobby would be knocking boots with Maria and she'd get pregnant, which was weird, because so far he had kissed her exactly three times, including once when he missed and ended up with her earlobe in his mouth.

'You know I'd never steer you wrong?' Steve said, before they'd driven a block.

' 'Course I do.'

'So you'll listen to me and not that freak Kreeger?'

'Yep.'

'You remember what I told you about girls and sex?'

'Have I ever forgotten anything, Uncle Steve?'

'So say it.'

'C'mon, it's so dorky.'

'Say it, kiddo.'

No way around it, Bobby thought, firing out the words. 'It shows maturity to keep your purity.'

'Attaboy.'

'Did you, Uncle Steve? Keep your purity?'

'None of your business.'

'That's what I thought.'

The 'purity' line was so unlike his uncle, Bobby figured he got it from one of those books piled up in the living room.

Raising the Adolescent Boy. Problems with Puberty. Teenagers: An Owner's Manual.

As if I'm a puppy.

Uncle Steve always seemed scared something bad would happen to him.

As if I'm breakable.

Probably because of Mom and the dog shed and a bunch of stuff he didn't even remember.

'Be home before dark.'

'Don't put that can of beans in the microwave.'

'If your mother calls, I want to know about it.'

Sometimes, Bobby wanted to shout: 'I'm not a baby, Uncle Steve.'

Just now, Dr. Bill treated him like a man. Talking about booty like that. Not trying to game him with 'purity' and 'maturity.'

Of course, Uncle Steve hated the guy. Which was weird, because Uncle Steve fessed up that he was the one who cheated back in the murder trial. Driving over here today, he said the doc was dangerous. But he said the same thing about Mom, and Bobby didn't see that at all. Uncle Steve was just so mixed up about all of this. So Bobby decided to keep some secrets. He wouldn't tell Uncle Steve all the things Dr. Bill said. Especially the last thing, right before Uncle Steve came into the room.

'Be a man, Robert. Take what you want. Maria will love it. Trust me. I know.'

SOLOMON'S LAWS

11. I won't lie to a lawyer's face or stab him in the back, but if I have the chance, I'll look him in the eye and kick him in the cojones.

Thirty-Two

DEFROSTING THE FROZEN CHOSEN

'You spanked a naked woman?' Victoria couldn't believe this was happening again.

'Not in the way you mean,' Steve replied. 'It wasn't a Story of O deal.'

'She rubbed her breasts in your face?'

'Technically, only one breast.'

'And you did absolutely nothing to invite the attention?'

'Not a thing, Counselor.'

'Your mere presence provokes women to fling off their bath towels and squash their breasts in your face?'

'One woman, one breast,' he specified, as if a court reporter were taking it all down.

They were in Steve's Mustang, the radio tuned to the sports talk station. Steve turned up the volume, intending to cut off her questioning, she figured. Victoria listened a moment as a caller complained in grave tones that the University of Miami's touted new wide receiver might, in fact, run the forty-yard dash a tenth of a second too slowly.

She punched a button, turning off the radio. 'You were crazy to sneak around in Kreeger's bedroom.'

'I was hunting for evidence and I found it.'

'You mean the naked pictures? Or the naked woman?'

'I'm gonna nail Kreeger for sexual battery. Amanda was a minor. Extended statute of limitations, relaxed rules of evidence. I can get him, Vic!'

'And how will you persuade her to cooperate? Shower with her next time?'

'All I have to do is convince her that she didn't kill her mother.'

'That's all?'

'And that Kreeger's not protecting her. She's protecting him.'

'And how exactly will you do this?'

'I'm working on it.'

He cut across two lanes and headed up Brickell Avenue, instead of taking I-95 to the Miami Beach fly- over.

'Where are we going?' Victoria asked.

'I've got a settlement conference. You can take the car.'

'What settlement conference? There's nothing on the calendar.'

'Sachs versus Biscayne Supermarkets. The butt-sticking case.'