Marine One

'You want this or not?'

'I don't know. What kind of compensation are you looking for?'

'Hundred thousand dollars, cash. No questions asked. Tell you what, you bring that cash to this attorney here, leave it with him, I'll tell you what I know. You don't like it, you take the money back. Otherwise, I take the money and disappear. You'll be able to get more based on what I tell you. You can go ask other people questions. You think about it.'

The man stood up and walked through the door from which he had come. I looked at his attorney as I closed my notebook, not having written anything. 'This is real sketchy.'

Flannery was uninterested in a discussion. 'I'll be here when you call.'

As I pulled out of the garage, Rachel said, 'Are you buying that?'

'I don't know. I really don't. I'm going to tell WorldCopter about it and see what they think. I want you to take another look at Braden's memo. Check the cases and ethics opinions of the state bar. See how close to the line this is. And check one other thing. What if the client does the paying and not the attorney? They're not bound by our ethical obligations. What if we can't control them?'

'Can't?'

'Or don't.'

The next morning my cell phone rang as I was dressing. New York number. I answered quietly, 'Mike Nolan.'

'What were you thinking?' a female voice demanded.

It sent an awakening jolt of adrenaline through me. It was Kathryn. 'What do you mean?'

'You let the press sit in on Melissa Collins's deposition? Have you seen the headlines? Let me read from the front page of this morning's New York Post, which I was just privileged to pick up. 'WorldCopter Lawyer Grills Marine One Pilot's Widow on Sex Life.' Did you do that?'

'I wouldn't put it like that, but basically, yeah. Of course. Just like you did when you were practicing. Those questions are routine.'

'You don't grill a widow about her sex life in front of a roomful of reporters!'

'I didn't anticipate him inviting them, but it wouldn't have made any difference. I could have adjourned the depo and gotten a protective order, which probably would have been denied, and that would have been worse. 'WorldCopter Tries to Grill Widow in Secret.' And then I would have asked the same questions anyway.'

'The protective order may have been granted. It would have cut down on the circus. We have to get a protective order for the other depos now. Hackett's whole idea is manipulation, winning in the press. It has nothing to do with the facts.'

'I know that, and you know that. But we've got to be willing to take some lumps to prepare this case. Otherwise you can just write him a check.'

She paused, obviously frustrated. 'Just try to see these things coming so we can talk about it before it happens. All right? I don't like talking about bad things unless I anticipated them and prepared for them.'

'Fair enough.' I'd been working with Kathryn for years. I'd never heard her raise her voice. Hackett was really starting to piss me off. Trial was now sixty days off, and I had thirty days to finish my discovery, come up with my theory, get my expert reports together, and otherwise look like a genius. This thing was going to trial whether I was ready or not.

As I drafted an e-mail on my BlackBerry to Rachel about a protective order, I saw a new e-mail from Tripp at WorldCopter. The light bluish white screen glowed in the dark as Debbie slept. Tripp had read my e-mail report on the secret witness and wanted to meet with him immediately. If this guy was going to lead us to evidence, Tripp wanted to get on it right away.

I told Tripp where Flannery's office was and he said he was on his way. I called Flannery after Tripp, and he said he could have the witness there at 9 AM. I had a couple of minutes to talk to Tripp before we went into the conference room. I sent Rachel an e-mail asking for anything she had found about Braden's memo.

We went to the same conference room as the day before, and Flannery went through the familiar routine of lowering the shades. The witness walked in right on cue. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the night before, and his hands were still dirty.

Tripp didn't want to hear about his clothes or hands or what he might do for a living. He knew the man had information that could exonerate WorldCopter. After the introductions, Tripp jumped right in. 'What is it that you know that would be so valuable to us?'

The guy shook his head. 'I'm not going to go into it until I get paid.'

'Let's say that we can arrange for you to be paid. Can you tell me the kind of information that you have?'

'If I tell you what I know, I'll lose my job, I won't be able to hang around here anymore. I want you to move me to a different place and find me a job. I'm not afraid they're going to like kill me or anything, but I'm going to have to get out of here. I want to go to Montana and set up my own tire store. I'll need at least a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and moving expenses. Probably another thirty or so. So a hundred and eighty grand.'

I said, 'We could just subpoena you. And last time you said a hundred thousand. What changed?'

'No, you can't. You'll never find me. You don't know my name or where I work, and-'

'You sure about that?'

'Yeah, I'm sure. There's no way you could. So I won't be there when you come looking for me. And I've been thinking about everything I will need to do. One fifty is the minimum.'

Tripp said, 'Let's agree in principle-'

'Can I talk to you for a second?' I said, indicating the door.

Tripp stopped, looked at me, and said begrudgingly, 'Sure.'

We got up and walked into Flannery's deserted lobby. I looked around and saw that we were alone. I said in a loud whisper, 'We don't know anything about this guy. We can't pay him. It will taint the whole case. If this gets out-and I assume everything will get out at some point in this case-we'll be crucified. I say we shut this guy down. Challenge him to testify about the truth, or shut the hell up with this cloak-and-dagger bullshit.'

Tripp's face turned red. 'Mike, we may miss a chance to blow this case wide-open if we don't take this guy up on his offer. What's a hundred fifty grand in the big scheme of things?'

'It's not the money, it's the principle.'

'What principle? Helping a witness who has critical information not to have his life ruined for bringing the information out? We'll tell the jury what we paid and why. They'll understand.'

'No, they won't. And it's probably unethical. I could be disbarred.'

'So what? You can get rebarred. We'll bring you in-house to work for us until you're cleared again.'

I stood back and looked around. He started to turn. I grabbed him arm. 'David, I'm advising you not to do this. Let's walk away. It smells.'

'I can't. I've got to find out at least what he knows. Come on.' Tripp turned and hurried back into the conference room.

Before we even sat down again he said to the witness, 'What kind of information do you have that would make it worth that much money?'

The man leaned forward and looked Tripp squarely in the eye. 'Are you saying you can do this? That you will?'

'I don't know. I'm saying I might. Depends on the kind of information you have. You've got to let me know why it would be worth our while.'

The man spoke softly but openly, 'But if I convince you that it's worth it, you're willing to do this?'

I leaned over to speak to Tripp, but he was already responding, 'Yes.'

The man nodded eagerly and sat back. 'Smart man. What I've got are maintenance records.'

Tripp waved his hand at him dismissively. 'We've already got all the maintenance records. We've been through them with a fine-tooth comb.'

'You don't have these maintenance records.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Maintenance records on the rotor blade the day before the accident.'

Tripp swallowed, not believing what he'd just heard. 'You have maintenance records on the blade right before the accident? Where'd you get them?'

'Never mind. I'll give you copies, hard copies that you can then pursue. There are maintenance guys' names on them, and it shows what they did to the rotor blade.'

'What did they do?'

'You'll have to wait to see. You wire the money to this law firm-I forget what they call it-'

'Our client trust account,' Flannery said.

'Right, the trust account. Then I will have him fax to you and send hard copies overnight of the five pages of maintenance records.'

'How do we know you have any?'

The man pulled a folded piece of paper out of his Windbreaker pocket, unfolded it, and passed it across the table. I immediately recognized it as a standard Marine Corps maintenance form. It was a copy of a sheet noting vibration in the helicopter three days before the accident. He said, 'Bet you've never seen this.'

We both examined it and looked at each other. We hadn't. Tripp asked, 'Is this one of the five pages?'

'Yup. The juicy stuff though is on the other four pages.'

'May I keep this?'

'Yup, and I want the money in this account within forty-eight hours. Can you do that?'

I couldn't just sit there. This just didn't make sense. 'Let me make sure I understand. You give us an example of a maintenance record that we've not seen, you tell us there are others that have critical information on them, but you won't tell us what that information is, and we're just supposed to wire a buttload of money to you?'

'Yes, sir.'

I shook my head. 'It's up to my client, but I'm telling you this, I won't recommend that he do this unless you tell me right now what the content of those records is. We can't use it without you or without the records. Maybe we can find the Marine who did the work, but it sure gives us some motivation to comply with your request if you tell us what they did. Otherwise, I'm not sure why we would do it.'

The man thought about my request. He had been playing with a paper clip the entire time he was speaking. This nervous habit seemed out of line for somebody who was so sure and steady. After an interminable pause, he replied, 'It's about the tip weights, they had an incident with that blade. It was worked on the day before