“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for your contribution to our jury selection, Paul. I think you saved us from making at least two fatal mistakes,” said Genevieve.
“You got the jury you wanted?” asked Paul.
“You never get everybody you want. But we got a lot,” said Genevieve.
“We slugged our way there,” the incorrigible Winston said.
“Glad to hear it,” said Paul, sipping his coffee.
“The climber, Diane Miklos, sure acted receptive,” Winston said. “I like that lady.”
“She’s probably got tattoos bigger than Sonny Ball’s hidden under those army surplus clothes of hers,” Genevieve teased. “She’s exactly your-” she began. She looked toward the door. Her eyes widened.
Jeffrey Riesner shot back into the lunchroom from the hall a changed man, coatless, his fly undone, a terrific bruise starting to purple on his cheek, his hair sopping wet. “Call the police!” he roared at the astonished elderly man at the cash register. “Someone attacked me!”
“You need help, sir?” asked the cashier.
“Look at me! Look at me! Call the police!” He went over to the corner and sat down, pulling out a handkerchief and drying his face.
The cashier spoke rapidly into the phone.
“Have you called yet?” Riesner asked. “What did they say?”
“Yes, sir,” said the cashier. “The bailiff will be right down.”
“Forget the bailiff. Get the police over here. Now!”
Deputy Kimura came running in, hand ready at his holster. “What happened?”
“Someone came after me…”
“What did he do?”
“What does it look like? I was attacked! He assaulted me. Isn’t that obvious?” Riesner rubbed his face.
“How’d you get all wet like that?”
“Washing the blood off! How do you think?”
“What did he look like?”
“Big guy, very strong.”
“Where did this happen?”
Riesner cast a furious look at Nina’s group, then pointed at Nina with a shaking finger. “You!” he said. “You’re behind this.”
“Where did it happen, Mr. Riesner?”
“He’s not there anymore. And if you stand here gibbering for one more second he’ll get away!” Riesner shrilled. “Why don’t you go after him?”
“Where did the confrontation take place?” Kimura asked stubbornly. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“In the goddamned toilet downstairs by the Muni Court office!” Riesner said. “And no, I didn’t see his face. Just look for a big… I don’t know. Now, why don’t you just do your job and go get that bastard!”
Kimura ran from the room.
Nina looked at Paul. He, like the rest of them, stared at the dripping, gesticulating lawyer in complete amazement.
Or did he?
What was that in his face, rollicking around the corners of his eyes? Could it be…
Amusement?
17
The next morning before court, Nina met Paul at Heidi’s for breakfast.
“I’m just having juice,' said Paul. “Gotta keep that Malibu look.”
“Coffee, poached egg, wheat toast,” said Nina to the waitress, who at six-thirty in the morning looked like she’d been up all night.
“Changed my mind,” added Paul. “Two sides of sausage.” The waitress scurried away on her two-inch-thick-soled white foam shoes. “You talked me into it,” he said with a smile to Nina. “By the way, where were you last night? You got away before I could make a plan to ravish you. And then later, nobody was home, not even Bob.”
“I turned the phone off.”
“Did you now?” he said. “You going to tell me what’s so urgent we have to talk while I’m still half asleep?”
“You know very well. You did something to Jeff Riesner in that bathroom yesterday.”
“I never,” said Paul. “Nobody can prove a thing. How’s he doing?”
“He’s on the rampage. He’s been humiliated in front of me. He’ll never forget that everyone saw him like that. He asked the judge for a one-day continuance, but all he got was a bruise and some shaking up, so Milne said no.”
The waitress brought their food, and sighing deeply, as though it was all too much for her, poured more coffee. “Anything else?” she asked.
“We’re fine,” said Nina.
After she left, Paul said, “Don’t you just hate it when the waitress looks so pooped you want to bundle her off and send her home to bed? I feel like I should jump up to help her.”
“Paul, you’d better tell me what you did.”
He took another bite of sausage. “Mmm. This is what I call sausage. I might just have to have a teeny bit more.”
“You attacked him in the washroom, didn’t you?”
Paul continued eating until every bite was gone.
Nina knew him well enough to know he was deciding what to tell her. She tried to choke down some egg but put her fork down when she realized her seething stomach couldn’t take it. “Jesus, Paul. This is serious.”
Paul drank his coffee. “All right. I was behind the two of you in the cafeteria line. I saw the whole thing. You know, he positioned himself so that you pretty much had to run into him. Why do you let him treat you like that?”
“Believe me, he does it without any encouragement from me,” said Nina. “But Paul, you can’t sink to his level.”
“Oh, but I can. He made my blood boil. I set my tray down. The food didn’t look too good right then, so I took a little walk down the hall to the washroom to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down.”
“Oh, no.”
“It was foreordained. I walked in, and the bastard happened to be standing in one of the stalls, door wide open, back to me, taking a whiz, whistling to himself. Off-key. Just smug as hell, hitting low notes where there should be high ones. The kind of spineless whistling that really grates on me.”
“No.”
“Yes. The hair on the back of his head grated on me. His expensive shoes grated on me. I found myself perturbed. There’s no other word for it.”
Nina lowered her head and put her hand over her eyes.
“I wanted to turn him around and coldcock him. But for your sake, I didn’t want him to know who did it to him.” He waited for a reply, and, not getting one, went on. “So I pulled a little trick I learned from an old con named Dickie Mars, a guy I busted when I was still on the Force. Dickie learned it at San Quentin. You rush the guy, push hard at the shoulder so he loses his balance, and trip him at the same time. You guide him as he’s falling so his head’s above the toilet, and you-you wash his hair for him. That’s what Dickie called it. The Shampoo. When you let go, all the guy cares about is sucking in some air and wiping his eyes. You’re long gone.”
“You’re getting a kick out of telling me this, aren’t you?” Nina asked.
“You don’t have to be Irish to appreciate a good story,” said Paul.
A long silence ensued. The waitress appeared. “More coffee?” Neither of them answered, and she went away.
“I’m sorry. I am. I lost my temper,” Paul said. “He had it coming, but I shouldn’t have done it. It’s this damn case. It’s the money, money, money. It’s making everyone nuts, all that money floating out there, up for grabs. Haven’t you noticed? The lawyers, the reporters, the crowds of people following this case, eating it up. It’s mass hysteria. It’s greed so gargantuan, it should make any sensible person flinch at the sight of it. I’m afraid it’s going to ruin us, and I let the pressure get to me.”
Nina was shaking her head.
“Look, let’s forget about it. He’s all right. I’ll watch myself.”
Nina said slowly, “Paul, you’re fired. You’re off the Markov case.”
“What? It was just a prank.”
“I-I-you’re fired, Paul. Send me a bill. We’ll have to get along without you. I have to do it, as Lindy’s attorney. You assaulted the attorney I’m arguing a case against. You jeopardized my whole case!”
“You’re firing me?”
“That’s right.”
“For protecting you.”
“For losing your temper and doing crazy things.”
“By now you should expect the unexpected. That’s who I am.”
She searched her bag and threw a five-dollar bill on the table.
“Nina, friends forgive friends,” Paul said.
“You don’t even understand why I’m so upset, do you? You never liked this case or this cause, and now you’re trying to sabotage me. You didn’t dunk Riesner to protect me. You indulged yourself in a little tribal dancing, a minor war over territory. It had everything to do with you, and nothing to do with me. But Paul, if I lose this case…” She stopped and stood up.
“The world comes to an end?” Paul asked. “Look, Nina. Aren’t you forgetting what’s really important?”
“And that would be you?”
