The phone call from his brother-in-law Jimmy Kane in Milwaukee came to Mario Liberati at his office at Mallard and Bill, and Mario was furious.
“Mario, I'm in real trouble this time. I need the best defense lawyer I can get. That means you. Lucy has kept me up to speed on your career.”
“Jimmy, I'm a member of the firm. I don't decide the cases we take. I'll ask about lawyers in Milwaukee.”
“I want you.”
Mario closed his eyes in frustration. He had managed to keep the anger from his voice, but he was fearful he would unleash it at Jimmy if this conversation went on. All his reasons for not wanting to practice law in Milwaukee came back to him. In Chicago he had started with a blank slate; no one knew his sister was married to a man thought to be behind the drug trade in the city to the north.
“Mario, Lucy wants to talk to you.”
“Mario?” My God, it was Lucy. “Can't you help him? It really does look bad. I tell myself he deserves whatever happens, but as his wife I can't stick to that.”
“I told him I will look into who in Milwaukee would be best.”
“Mario, we know the lawyers here. The only ones who will take the case would make Jimmy look guilty before the trial begins. They're always in court with guilty people.”
“Isn't Jimmy guilty?”
“Doesn't he deserve the best defense?”
“Lucy, I'll call you tonight from home. Let me think.”
He hung up. Think? There was nothing to think about. All he had to do was to appear in a Milwaukee court with Jimmy Kane as his client and everything he had managed to build up since law school would go down the drain. Of course he would respond to Lucy's plea, but he would not, he could not, be Jimmy Kane's lawyer. For a member of the firm of Mallard and Bill ⦠He did not have to complete the thought. He was sitting at his desk doing nothing at all, staring blankly before him, when Colleen came in as scheduled.
“What's wrong?”
“Shut the door.”
She did so and then came around the desk to him. He seemed to be trembling. “Mario, tell me.”
He found he did not want to tell her there, did not want to foul his nest further with talk about Jimmy Kane.
“Let's get some coffee.”
They went into the room set aside for breaks, and though it was crowded it was better than his office. A dozen conversations were in progress, no one would imagine what he had to tell Colleen. At a corner table, Aggie sat with Albert Fremont and made a point of ignoring Mario. But then Fremont seemed pretty intent on what he was telling her. Mario held his coffee in both hands and told Colleen about the call from Milwaukee. She understood immediately why he was upset. As the conversation went on, he did as he would do in his office when they talked, making cryptic notes, now on a paper napkin he had pulled from the container on the Formica table.
“How can I tell them that helping him would jeopardize my career?”
“It isn't as if you are in private practice and can just take on clients.”
“I said that. My sister got on the line.”
“Oh, Mario.”
Was this some sort of retribution for what he had been feeling about the troubles in Colleen's familyâher uncle, her father, her brother? All that seemed like nothing compared to the threat posed by Jimmy Kane. Not even Jimmy's best friends would think him innocent. Least of all his best friends.
“I don't mind telling him to go to hell. It's my sister. Of course he made her get on the line.”
“Just tell them you can't do it.”
“Of course I can't do it.”
Thank God for Colleen. What would he have done if he had no one to talk to about this? He crumpled the napkin and sent it in an arc to a wastebasket.
“Three points.” There was applause from those who had noticed. Colleen smiled. He took her hand in his.
“They can't make you do it.”
“Of course not.”
Before the call came, if he had thought about it, he would have realized how well his career had gone since coming to Mallard and Bill. And here he had met Colleen. Some of her attraction was due to the contrast with the predatory Aggie. But of course that had just been the beginning. They worked so well together, but that too was only a part of it. They might have been waiting into their thirties for one another.
He had been driven by the need to free himself of his Milwaukee connections. The memory of the day Lucy had married Jimmy Kane was a painful one. Throughout the Mass, afterward at the reception, recognizing many of the questionable characters who had shown up and who were impossible to ignore at the reception, he kept telling himself he should have done everything he could to dissuade Lucy from marrying Jimmy Kane. But what good would he have done if he
had tried? She was in love, hard as that was to accept. She had fallen for one of the most disreputable men in the city. The one time they had talked about it, it was clear she knew all about him.
“He is going to change, Mario. He promised. It was a condition of my acceptance.”
“And if he doesn't?”
“He will. He
promised.”
Ever since, he had been waiting for the kind of phone call that had come today. Sooner or later people like Jimmy Kane were brought low. Then they whined and cried and sought help wherever they could find it. He could imagine Jimmy promising him that if he only got out of this, he would be a changed man. Well, he wouldn't get out of it. Jimmy was shrewd enough to know that this time it was different. And he wanted Mario Liberati in court with him so they could all go down together.
The following day, Mario was wanted in Mallard's office. Bill was there as well, two symbols of rectitude sitting in shirtsleeves, one behind the desk, the other in a chair in the corner.
“Something disturbing has arisen, Mario,” Mallard said.
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know a man named Jimmy Kane in Milwaukee?”
“He is my brother-in-law.”
Two pairs of eyebrows raised. “I have looked over your original application and find no mention of that. You remember the section that asked if there were any compromising facts in your background that could affect the reputation of the firm?”
“He lives in Milwaukee.”
“That is no excuse. You appreciate that it is a serious matter if one of us is connected with a known racketeer?”
“I am not connected with him. My sister is. I have never had anything to do with him.”
“He is currently under indictment in Milwaukee.”
Mario said nothing.
“Did you know this?”
“He called me.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Did he call you as a brother-in-law or as a lawyer?”
“Both. He asked me to defend him. Of course I said no.”
“Of course.”
The two partners allowed a long silence to develop.
“What do you want me to do?”
Bill spoke. “This is a sad day, Mr. Liberati.” Mr. Bill was always formal.
“What do you think you ought to do? You will appreciate that for us the reputation of the firm is paramount. We have neverâneverârepresented anyone like this Jimmy Kane. Everyone deserves legal representation, true. But not from Mallard and Bill,” Mallard said.
“Do you want me to resign?”
“You have been one of the best hires we have made in years. You have fulfilled every expectation we had of you.”
Bill said, “We will make it as financially attractive for you as we can, Mr. Liberati.”
He was being asked to resign; he had known that the moment he walked in. Somehow they had heard of Jimmy Kane and his connection with the star of the firm, and painful as it might be to them, they could not permit him to continue with the firm. It would not do that one of them had such connections.
“We can hope that none of this will reflect on Mallard and Bill despite your departure. But I needn't tell you what the situation demands.”
“How did you find out about this?”
“That scarcely matters, does it?”
“Did he call you?”
“Good God, no.” The idea that someone accused of what Jimmy Kane was accused of would have the temerity to call either of the senior partners of Mallard and Bill shook the two men.
“Your severance package will serve to cushion the blow somewhat, Mr. Liberati,” said Mallard.
“I cannot tell you how this grieves me, Mario,” added Bill.
“I understand.”
“We were certain you would.”
When he emerged from the office, in a daze, Aggie was in the hall, just dipping toward a water fountain. She stared at him.
“What's wrong?”
“Not a thing.”
“Mario, if there is anything I can doâ”
Why did he think that she had already done all she could do? Colleen was waiting for him in his office. “What did they want?” “Does everyone know?”
“You know this place. Aggie has been spreading the word.”
“Aggie! How did she know?”
“Mario, everyone knows. Is it bad?”
“I am being let go. I am to get together with the accountants to discuss a historic severance settlement.”
She flew into his arms and, embracing her, unable to hold back, he wept. That quickly the life he had built was destroyed. He had proposed to Colleen in the full confidence that his future was secure. How could he hold her to their engagement now, when he did not know what he would do next?
“It was about Jimmy Kane being your brother-in-law.”
“Of course.”
“I'll talk to Tim.”
“Why?”
“You know how he admires you as a lawyer. Everyone does.”
“His firm will probably have the same objection. Now I'll know better than to try to conceal the fact that my sister married that bastard.”
“Don't be silly. How many firms are as staid as this one? Have they bothered Tim about Dad and Uncle Austin?”
“They're not drug dealers.”
She pressed herself more closely against him, as if she wanted to draw all his pain into herself.
“Colleen, about the engagement ⦔
“Don't you say another word. Not one.”
“If I love you I should free you.”
“I am going to leave here too.”
He stepped back. “That's crazy.”
“Is it? I am very employable. I do not need Mallard and Bill and neither do you.”
They had dinner together, they went to her place and talked until midnight. Outside, snow was falling steadily, huge moist flakes. While he drove home, all the strength and reassurance he had drawn from Colleen seeped away. For the rest of the night, before at last he fell asleep, he thought back to where he had begun, a kid in Milwaukee, prospects dim. Mallard and Bill presided over his dreams, two implacable judges in their expensive snow-white shirts, pointing like angels his way out of the Garden of Eden.
Tuttle was seldom surprised that following someone around for a few days turned up odd things. Jack Gallagher's niece was not his niece but a lawyer who worked in the same firm as did his daughter; Mallard and Bill, a starchy outfit that made Amos Cadbury look like a free spirit. Tuttle was impressed against his will that a man Jack's age was still at it. He had gotten some sense of his client's character from the program manager at Jack's old station.
“So you're representing Jack.” Hove was short, fat, bald and a master of sarcasm. “I always hated that pompous son of a bitch.”
“I have to know everything I can about my client.”
“You've come to the right fella.”
Hove was a font of carping criticism of the onetime star of the station. Jack was a notorious womanizer and the women acted as if he was doing them a favor. He received them in his office as if he were a prize bull and they had come to be serviced. Listeners loved him. It was not a restful thought to think of one of Amos Cadbury's acolytes interviewing Hove. Tuttle asked Hove if anyone else had talked with him about the case.
“I wish they would. Do you know that I am one of the few people still here that worked with Jack? His photograph is on the wall in the reception area, but no one who works here now remembers him. One day he was king, the next ⦠What does he do with himself nowadays?”
No need to mention the bogus niece. “He is enjoying his retirement.”
“Retirement. If what he did is work, I'm a brain surgeon. Judy made the musical selections, Jack just improvised when he was on the air. He had nothing to do with preparation, he was above all that.”
“Judy?”
“She's the other survivor of those days. Do you know that one day his brother-in-law came here and punched him out because he had heard of how Jack was playing around? His son worked here one summer and of course he heard the buzz about his old man.”
Tuttle was almost sorry he had come. Hove would make Cadbury's case for him, if Amos condescended to check out his opponent. It was difficult to imagine Amos in this smoke-filled office, listening to the sarcastic twang of Hove.
“Is Judy here now?”
“You want to talk to her?”
“Yes.”
Hove picked up the phone and dialed. “Judy? Jack's lawyer is here. The one who is representing him out in Fox River. He was knocked down twice and now wants to win the fight in court.”
The upshot was that Judy would talk to Tuttle. Her office was next door to Hove's.
“I wish you had come to me first. Hove always hated Jack.”
“So he told me.”
“He was jealous.”
Judy weighed maybe a hundred pounds, skin and bone and buck teeth that didn't look too bad when she smiled, which was a lot, as if someone had told her.
“Jack Gallagher was a giant of Chicago radio. A giant. The irony is that he would have flourished in the present era too. Radio is all talk now and Jack was nothing if not a talker.”
“You were his assistant?”
“I was. He was wonderful to work for.”
Is everybody made up of as many different people as those who knew him? Maybe nobody really knows anybody. Judy got out old promo material for Jack Gallagher's radio show, offered to give him tapes of typical shows.
“I called him to offer my sympathy when I heard what had happened to him, but he just laughed it off.”
“Do you see him much?”
“See him? The last time I saw him was when he walked out of here on his last day. He was too proud ever to come back.”
“Why did he leave?”
The smile faded. “Radio stopped being what it was. His ratings dropped; advertisers wanted something else, they didn't know what. There was not the slightest gratitude for what he had done for them and for the station. He read the handwriting on the wall and left with his head high. Of course he was given a big phony send-off at the Palmer House.”
“What about him and women?”
“That's slander. Several times he called me to his office to help him get rid of some overwrought fan. One was actually pulling off her
blouse when I got there, tugging him toward the couch. Of course women like that would talk to get back at him.”
“So there was nothing to it?”
“Nothing like what you hear.”
“Hove said his son heard about his dad when he worked here one summer.”
“The poor boy. Why do children think so little of their parents?”
Tuttle thought of his own father. He could not imagine himself and his father in such a situation.
“It's a mystery.”
He left with an armful of promo material and his pockets filled with cassettes, tapes of the Jack Gallagher show. If he had a machine, he might play them.
Driving back to Fox River, Tuttle felt that he did not know his client at all. The guy was likeable, no doubt about that. Tuttle liked him, despite the lie about the niece. If Cadbury sent one of his minions to the station, Judy and Hove would cancel one another out. Tuttle's next step was to look into Austin Rooney's background. Or it would have been.
When he awoke the following day and listened to his police radio while shaving he nearly sliced off his nose. He stopped and listened. A woman's body had been found in the West End development where Jack had his condo. Strangled and left in a snowbank. Her name was Agatha Rossner and she was a young lawyer in a prestigious Chicago firm.