And Lesh had the same response. 'Wait a second. I don't understand
why her files would contain any communications with you. The city's a
party, for Christ's sake.'
'We don't know what kind of internal memoranda she made about other
privileged matters in an employment context, though, your honor, or how
she maintained those memoranda. I just want a chance to peruse each
file and ensure that it contains only case information. It's standard
practice in document production.'
Lesh made my argument for me. 'Maybe in a civil suit, but this is a
murder investigation. You're talking about a theoretical possibility
that Clarissa Easterbrook who is now dead, by the way not only had a
conversation with someone in your office but that she recorded it in
some form and then placed it in a case file where Ms. Kincaid might
stumble upon it unwittingly. And you think this possibility warrants a
delay in a murder investigation?'
'Not a substantial one, your honor. As I said, I'm almost done.'
Lesh shook his head. He had worked both the civil and criminal sides
of the bar, but even he was incredulous at this particular civil
litigator's priorities. 'How far have you gotten, Dennis?'
Coakley pursed his lips and thought a second. 'Probably eighty
percent.'
'And was there anything in that eighty percent that you needed to
redact?'
'No, there wasn't.'
'Of course not,' Lesh said. 'OK, here's what we're doing, kids.
Dennis, get the files that you've completed ready for Ms. Kincaid to
review at City Hall. Where should she go?'
Coakley clearly thought about arguing, but hedged his bets that things
could get worse and relented. 'Clarissa's office would probably be
best.'
'Good. While she reviews those, you're free to continue working on the
remaining twenty percent. But if she gets done before you do, too bad.
The two of you can race to the finish.'
We both said thank you and started to leave. Before I walked out, Lesh
called me back. 'Samantha, do you have a minute?'
'Of course, your honor.'
Once the door was closed, he asked me to sit down. 'What was that all
about?'
'I'm not sure what you mean.'
'I certainly hope that's not the case, or you're going to have a very
rough career ahead of you. Did you really need me for that?'
'We were at an impasse, your honor. I thought you'd help us reach a
compromise, and you did.'
'It's my job, Kincaid, and I haven't turned into one of those lazy
sacks who's complaining about more work yet,' he said, knocking on his
wood desk. 'But you didn't even talk to Coakley about this before
coming to me, did you?'
'Not since yesterday,' I said.
'Before Clarissa's body was found,' he said, shaking his head. 'The
guy was eighty percent done, so he meant it when he said he'd been
working on it. The fact is, you could have come to the same solution
with a phone call. But he probably gave you a hard time yesterday, so
you decided you'd teach him a lesson. And don't think for a minute
that I'm not aware why you handpicked me as your weapon.'
I didn't say anything.
'It's not my business, but just some friendly advice. I know Coakley,
and I'd bet money that word of this will get back to Griffith.' That
would be terrific, given the meeting we'd just had. 'Don't forget,
I've worked for that office too. You've got to stop butting heads, or
you're in for a world of hurt.'
People feel perfectly free to lecture me about butting heads, but who
scolds the butt heads Maybe Lesh could bend the will of jerks like
Coakley through charm and personality, but I've found those kind of
people will run me over if I don't stand up for myself. I still loved
Lesh, but until he walked a mile in my Ferragamos, he didn't have a
clue as to what my job was like.
I thanked him again for his help and headed back to my office.
Five.
While I was packing up what I needed for the file review, I heard a tap
on my open door and turned to find Russ Frist wheeling my long-lost
leather chair into the office.
'Lucy,' I said in my best Desi impersonation, 'you got some 'splaining
to do.'
