Kill All the Lawyers

Jackie laughed again, Victoria joining in. A moment later, Steve came through the open door and onto the balcony. 'What's so funny?'

'Men,' the women said simultaneously.

Jackie looped an arm around Steve's elbow. 'Have you seen the master bath? The Jacuzzi? The marble floors?'

'All I've seen are the damn elevators. You have to take one from the parking garage and another from the lobby.'

'But did you check out the pool?' Victoria chimed in. 'Bobby will love it. You know how swimming soothes him.'

'Swimming with dolphins soothes him. I didn't see any in the shallow end.'

'C'mon, handsome,' Jackie said. 'Keep an open mind.'

'There's no land. No grass.' Steve gestured toward the ground, forty-one floors below. 'It's all concrete down there. Where am I going to play catch with Bobby? And what's with that sign on the seawall? No Fishing?'

'You hate fishing,' Victoria said.

'I hate rules. I love fishing. I come from a long line of anglers.'

'You come from a long line of liars.'

'Shows what you know. My zayde Abe Solomon caught a record herring off Savannah.'

'There are no herring off Savannah.'

'Grandpop Abe must have caught them all.'

'Don't be difficult,' Jackie intervened. She put both hands on her hips in a motion that pushed her breasts higher. 'Steve, you have a few things going for you in the husband sweepstakes. You're single, straight, and self- supporting. But frankly, I've pulled your credit report, and you're not exactly Donald Trump.'

'I'll dye my hair orange if that'll help.'

'You drive a ratty old car, you dress like a Jimmy Buffet roadie, and except for what I've been told are your talents in the bedroom-'

'Jackie!' Victoria blushed.

'You're not all that great a prize,' Jackie continued, 'and my best bud deserves the best. So why not just chill and let Tori choose a place to live?'

'Hey, I get a vote here, Jack-o,' Steve said.

She dismissed the notion with a wave of her fingernails, painted the pinkish color called 'Italian Love Affair.' 'I've seen your house, Steve. You obviously have no sense of design or style.'

'You mean I have no pretensions like those trust-fund boys you run around with.'

'Stop it, you two,' Victoria ordered. 'Steve, don't be mean to Jackie.'

'Me? She's the one who wishes you'd married Bigby.'

'True,' Jackie admitted. 'But I told her to keep you on the side.' She gestured toward the interior of the apartment. 'Now, why don't we look at the master suite?'

'I hate this place,' Steve said.

Sounding like a child, Victoria thought. A petulant child.

'I'm wasting my time here,' Jackie said. 'Toodles.' She waved and headed back through the balcony door.

Victoria gave Steve one of her piercing looks.

'What? What'd I do, besides tell the truth?' he asked.

'You walked in throwing hand grenades. Why didn't you just call and say there's no way you'd live here?'

'I wasn't sure until the concierge spoke French to me.'

'I'm serious, Steve. It's unfair to Jackie. She's doing us a favor.'

'Not unless she kicks back half her commission.' Steve took a deep breath. 'Look, Vic. We need to talk.'

'I know. You want a house with a yard and crabgrass.'

'It's not that.' He cast a long look toward the sailboats, as if he wanted to be on one. 'I need to tell you about Kreeger.'

'You do?' She didn't even try to hide her surprise.

'This morning, I wasn't entirely truthful with you. Now I want to tell you everything.'

'You do?' Sounding as skeptical as she felt.

'I've been too closed off. I'm going to share more of myself.'

She studied him a moment. 'Are you gaming me?'

'Jeez, when did you get so cynical?'

'When you taught me that everybody lies under oath.'

'Look, I'm not saying I'm gonna become Mr. Sensitive. I'm as scared as the next guy to show weakness, but what I did this morning wasn't fair. I answered your questions about Kreeger like I was before the Grand Jury. So I'm gonna tell you what happened with him and maybe use that to open up on other stuff, too.'

She threw both arms around his neck and drew him close. 'You're a wonderful man, Steve Solomon, you know that?'

'Before you make that final, you might want to hear me out.'

SOLOMON'S LAWS

2. Thou shalt not screw thy own client. . unless thou hast a damn good reason.

Five

SURVIVAL OF THE HOMICIDAL

A pelican sat on a coral boulder, scratching its feathery belly with its beak. Steve and Victoria walked along Bayfront Drive, a wall of condos on one side, the flat, green water of Biscayne Bay on the other. Her sunglasses were perched on top her head and her long stride tugged her Sunny Choi pencil skirt tight at the hips. Steve didn't know Sunny Choi from chicken chow mein, but he'd started picking up slivers of fashion information by listening to Victoria's end of phone conversations with Jackie.

They headed in and out of shadows cast by the high-rises, the sun slanting toward the Everglades. In the light, Victoria's hair glowed with butterscotch highlights. In the shadows, her green eyes gave off their own light. She seemed happy, already forgiving Steve for being late, for being obstreperous, for being. . Steve.

'I did something in Kreeger's case I'd never done before and haven't since,' he said. 'And I'm not proud of it.'

'Tell me. Tell me everything, Steve.'

Her nurturing tone. That was it. Women were born nuturers. Cling to their warm bosoms, and everything will be all right. This would be easy. Victoria was, by nature, supportive and caring. And forgiving.

'The case against Kreeger was purely circumstantial,' he said. 'I thought I could win.'

'You always think you can win.'

'Yeah, but this was different. I thought Kreeger was innocent.'

He didn't have to say, 'as opposed to not guilty.' Victoria knew the difference. In criminal cases, you seldom defend a person who is truly I-didn't-do-thecrime innocent. But you'll often defend someone who almost certainly did the crime; the state just can't prove it. That's the difference between innocent and not guilty.

As everyone knows who watches blabbermouth lawyers on TV dissecting the latest trial of the century, the state must prove guilt beyond every reasonable doubt. The prosecutor is the sturdy workman at the center of a