pros take a shot at poking around Marcus Kovacs.”
“You think what you have here will be enough to turn Steadman and Internal Affairs around?” Disbelief was plain in Matt’s voice.
“No,” Leif admitted. “But I think an honest private eye, directed by, say, Captain Winters’s lawyer, might do some good. At the very least my theory offers a possible defense at a trial. Better than anything the captain has been able to come up with so far, which is mainly to say, ‘I didn’t do it!’”
He gave Matt a straight look. “Captain Winters is innocent. We know that. So we also know that Winters has been set up by someone who does very good work. You tried and couldn’t shake any part of the I.A. case.”
“I couldn’t help the captain,” Matt admitted.
“But using this information, a lawyer might be able to make a case for a frame-up job,” Leif said. “Right down to a well-trained perpetrator with motive and opportunity. Alcista died as punishment for trying to blow up Steele. Winters could have been framed as punishment for letting the cat out of the bag when Steele phonied up evidence against Alcista.”
“All this talk about lawyers is fine, but we don’t even know who has the job of representing the captain,” Megan objected.
“Stewart Laird,” Leif promptly answered. “He’s a partner in Mitchell, Liddy, and Laird, a firm of criminal lawyers—”
“You’d think they’d come up with a different way to refer to that,” Megan interrupted. “It makes the lawyers sound like crooks.”
Leif chuckled. “Point taken.” Then he grew more serious. “It’s a small outfit. They’re not power brokers like some of the big Washington law firms. But these guys know their business, which is what Winters needs. I was afraid I’d find him represented by some ambulance chaser, or the guy who handled the mortgage on his house.”
“How did you find out about this lawyer?” Megan wanted to know. “I haven’t seen his name or the firm’s mentioned on any newscasts or in any of the print media.”
Leif gave a quick command to the computer. Instantly one end of the living room turned into a view of a large, crowded office, with a pretty brunette sitting behind a desk at the foreground. “Hi, I’m Tracey McGonigle?” she said, a classic California upward lilt at the end of the sentence making it sound like a question. “I’m working for FaxNews International? We’re trying to get in touch with the lawyer representing James Winters?”
Megan turned on Leif with a dangerous expression. “That — that cardboard cutout looks like an older version of
“I didn’t think any law firm would deal with a teenager,” Leif said. “But with someone slightly older, working for an obscure news organization—”
“Do you have a sim program that makes all of us look older?” Megan demanded.
Matt, however, wasn’t about to get distracted. “You launched this program to contact every law firm in the Greater Washington metropolitan area?”
“What a scam!” Megan shook her head in disbelief.
“A stratagem,” Leif corrected her. “I started out in the Maryland suburbs and downtown D.C., figuring that those were the places Winters was most likely to go. Most of the firms either informed Ms. McGonigle that they weren’t involved in the case, or turned her down flat. Mitchell, Liddy, and Laird’s receptionist told young Tracey that Mr. Laird had no comment at this time.”
“I see,” Megan said. “I’m not going to ask if you have no shame. I already know the answer to that question. At least lawyers are safer to poke around than Kovacs or Steele.”
“We need to present what we’ve found to Captain Winters’s lawyer,” Leif said. “I found out which partner we’ve got to call.” He turned to Matt. “But I’d like you to do the talking.”
“Why?” Matt asked suspiciously.
“Well,
Leif shook his head.
Aloud, he said to Matt, “Because you have a good reputation with Net Force…and with Captain Winters.” He turned a mirthless grin toward Megan. “You heard Ms. O’Malley. If Winters heard this from me, he’d probably dismiss it without even listening. You, on the other hand, he might just listen to right through to the end. Admit it — it’s an improvement over claiming innocence without a shred of an alibi.”
“Huh,” Matt said a little bitterly. “You want me to tell Captain Winters and his lawyer because everybody thinks I’m a goody-goody.”
“I want you because you stand a good chance of being believed,” Leif insisted. “If this Laird guy contacts Agent Dorpff, Dorpff’ll give you a good recommendation. Dorpff doesn’t know anything about me.” He hesitated. “Or if he does, I’ll bet it’s not complimentary.”
“So you want to scam this lawyer using my reputation,” Matt began.
“This isn’t a scam — this is Captain Winters’s best hope. I want Laird to hear everything we’ve dug up,” Leif said angrily. “I don’t know what Winters has told him, but it’s obvious to me from what we’re seeing in the media that the law firm isn’t undertaking a vigorous defense. We’ve got a blizzard of news items about the case, all from the prosecution’s point of view. The folks at HoloNews do their poor best to
He was trying not to shout in frustration as he confronted his two friends. “The way things are going right now, unless this lawyer pulls off a miracle, Captain Winters will go to trial. He will probably be convicted. We know he’s innocent. We’ve got to do something.”
“You’re right,” Matt said. “You’ve got your patsy.”
The next morning, during a break between classes, Matt phoned the number Leif had given him. “Mitchell, Liddy, and Laird,” a female voice announced over his wallet-phone.
“My name is Matthew Hunter.” Matt had to fight to keep his voice from rising at the end of the sentence like Leif’s fictitious Tracey McGonigle. “I’m a Net Force Explorer, and I understand that Mr. Laird at your firm is representing the Net Force Explorer liaison officer, Captain James Winters. We’ve been trying to help the captain, and we’ve found out a couple of things that Mr. Laird might want to know.”
The receptionist’s voice was not encouraging. “I’m afraid Mr. Laird is very busy—”
“I don’t expect Mr. Laird will talk to me right off the bat,” Matt said. “But he might check on me with Net Force agent Len Dorpff and with his client, Captain Winters. I think either discussion would change Mr. Laird’s mind.” Matt gave the number for Captain Winters’s old office. That’s where Dorpff would be. He figured the lawyer should have Captain Winters’s home number. “I’ll call again later this afternoon. Perhaps Mr. Laird will speak to me then.”
“Mr. Hunter!” At least Matt managed to surprise a human response out of the receptionist. “Wait!” Matt merely gave Agent Dorpff’s number again, to make sure it was recorded properly.
Then he cut the connection.
By the time he got home after school, Matt was suffering from a bad case of sweating palms. For what had to be the fiftieth time on the trip home, he tapped the pocket containing the datascrip that Leif Anderson had prepared. Matt still wasn’t sure if he had the gumption to pass along his friend’s wild theory—
The autobus came to a stop on Matt’s corner, and he got off. As he unlocked the door of his house, he heard the chime of an incoming call. Mom and Dad were both away at work. Matt dashed into the hall to the nearest holo receiver.
He made the connection, and the image of a face swam into focus on the system’s display — a stranger’s face. A lean-faced man with no-nonsense eyes looked silently at Matt for a long moment. “Matt Hunter?” the man finally said.
Matt nodded.
“I’m Stewart Laird. I understand you called my office this morning in regard to James Winters.”
“I represent a group of Net Force Explorers—” Matt began.
Laird nodded. “So I understand from Agent Dorpff — and from my client. Captain Winters spoke very
