I called the number he'd left for me, which, of course, led to his
assistant. She told me he was in a meeting but assured me she'd tell
him I called.
'He is back in the office?' I asked. 'I just want to make sure he's
going to get the message.'
'Yes, he's back. I'll let him know you called just as soon as he's out
of his meeting.'
With that, I threw my running shoes back on, signed out, and trekked
over to City Hall. I gave the receptionist at the City Attorney's
Office my name and explained that I wanted to see Dennis Coakley.
She seemed confused. 'Didn't we just speak on the phone?'
'Yep, that was me.'
'Um did he call you back or something? I haven't given him the
message, because he's still occupied.'
'That's OK, I'll wait,' I said, as I settled into a chair near the
front door. Nonresponsive answers might be objectionable in court, but
they work wonders in the real world. Ten minutes later, Dennis Coakley
himself came to the front desk and called my name. Faster than a
doctor's office.
Coakley's office was conservative but well furnished, and I took a seat
at the small conference table he led me to. I'd seen him around town
before, and he looked no different now than he always did:
wheat-colored bowl cut, glasses thick as microwave doors, bad suit.
Before I had a chance to say anything, he took the lead. 'Given your
presence here, Ms. Kincaid, I feel I need to say something that I
shouldn't have to. I know your line of work requires you to deal with
some people who well, let's just call them uncooperative. But I hope
you didn't feel you needed to come over here personally to exert
pressure on me. Frankly, I find it a little insulting. I happen to
know Clarissa Easterbrook and would like to do whatever I can to help
find her.'
'It's nothing like that. In fact, I appreciate your calling me back so
quickly. It's just that this is my first day back in the office for a
while, and I needed the air. Your assistant mentioned you were in, so
...' A lie, to be sure, but much better than admitting my tendencies
to be an untrusting freak.
If Coakley sensed the fib, he was kind enough to gloss over it. 'Good.
No misunderstandings, then. Tell me what you need from us to help.'
'At this point, we don't know. Officially, it's still a missing person
case, but so far nothing suggests that Clarissa took off on her own,
and the police don't have any leads. You probably heard that they
found her dog and her shoe by Taylor's Ferry Road.' He nodded sadly.
'You can imagine the scenario that brings to mind. But we haven't
ruled out the chance that this could have something to do with her
work. We just want to go through her office to see if anything there
leaps out at us.'
He scratched his chin as if I had just asked him to calculate the
circumference of his coffee cup using only the diameter. 'This has
never come up before. I'm not sure I can let you do that. Let me look
into it, and I'll get back to you tomorrow. As long as there are no
legal hurdles, it shouldn't be a problem.' He started to get up to
walk me out.
I stayed in my seat. 'I assumed we'd be able to get in today. The
sooner the better.'
'I'd like to be able to do that, but I don't see how I can.'
'Unlock the door, and I can have an officer here within the hour.'
'I can't just let the police roam through a judge's files, Ms.
Kincaid.'
'Call me Samantha. And of course you can. She's not an actual judge;
she's a hearings officer. I assume if any other city employee was
missing, this wouldn't be an issue.'
'But the fact that she's a city employee makes Clarissa my client. I
just need enough time to make sure there's no privileged information in
her office. If there is, I'll let you know I've withheld something,
and we can go over to the courthouse and figure it out from there.'
'Look, this isn't tobacco litigation. What kind of privileged
information are you worried about? We're just trying to find out where
she is.'
'I know, and that's why I'm probably going to stay here all night doing
document review in her office, so you can get in as soon as possible.
But our hearings officers call for legal advice and might keep memos of
those conversations. If something like that exists, and I turn it over
to you, it waives privilege. I can't do that.'
'I'm sorry, Dennis, but that makes absolutely no sense. How can the
judges call you for advice when the city's a party to the disputes
they're handling?'
