In Love and Law

by Drake Koefoed

  Nancy could see the only friend Marie wanted in her bedroom was right there.

  * * *

  Will took Marie with him on Saturday to the thrift shops. He bought her some dresses and such that were so inexpensive it made you wonder. They found a thick Cashmere sweater priced at $2. It was a designer label. Probably $200 new. It fit her perfectly. Not for the first time, he thought how easy it would be to make her look good for the camera. He thought of Marcie in New Orleans. She had nothing much on Marie for looks, they were both stunners. But Marcie could put on a dress and do 36 poses in 50 seconds, change the film, please, while she changes dresses. Will had once shot a catalog at an airport, in 50 minutes between flights, with Marcie changing in the restroom. She had the modesty of a cat, and would have changed right in the concourse. He had shot 24 rolls of 36 frame 35 mm at her, shaking her tail around the concourse. When the catalog came out, it was a few stock photos and Marcie wearing this, and Marcie wearing that.

  He missed photography. Not so much the sex that came along with it; models often have the sexuality of rabbits, but the intense professional energy you felt doing something like a 50 minute shoot with Marcie at the airport. She could put her hands on her hips, and the sweater was the best you had ever seen. She would turn around and look over her shoulder, and those jeans sure looked good. She would buff her shoe on the back of her leg, and well, you had to have those shoes.

  He came to St. Vincent de Paul, and went into conference with Teresa, the manager. He got Marie lined out for some community service. He chatted with Teresa, who was very interested in his new house. She took down the address. “Will, you got $10?”

  He handed it over. “What is this for?”

  “A home entertainment center. I don’t have room for it, so from the truck to you, and may God bless you, Will.”

  A few hours later, some guys from Vinnie’s came, and tossed a bunch of stuff in the living room. A TV setup, with a tangled mass of cables, and a DVD player, and a VCR. Boxes of movies on DVD and VCR. Two rickety book cases made of particle board. He inquired about a hide a bed in the truck, and the guys took it into the dining room as well. He gave them $10 for that.

  Will got the cordless screwdriver and came in with some sheetrock screws to attach the rickety stuff to the wall, where it would not fall over. Little metal clips from the junk box saw to that.

  Marie untangled the cords, and hooked up the equipment. She cleaned the screen of the TV, and started it all up, testing everything.

  When Will had all the furniture secured, he went out to the shop, and put the screwdriver’s battery on the charger. He thought of Marie kneeling in front of the entertainment center. He knew he could have it any time he wanted, but he felt it was wrong. Not that this girl who had done who knows what for who knows whom would have a complaint, but something about being right with people. He couldn’t even make it out, but he knew he had to do it. He went back into the second bedroom.

  Marie paused the DVD. “Will, she did so good by you. There are about 200 movies, and they are good stuff.”

  “Let it play”

  She took it off pause. A fistful of dollars.

  “That’s a great movie.”

  “Sit here and watch it with me.”

  “You watch the movie. Tell me how it comes out.”

  He went out to the yard, and looked at the stars. Someone down the street was having a stupid argument at high volume, so he came back in. He went to sleep.

  Chapter 3; Seaching the quiet sea Musical theme; Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits

  Will walked into the jail. He asked if his client, Alan Richards, was receiving visitors. The deputies laughed. Deputy Stiles cornered Will. “Dorsey gonna give you any trouble, Will?” “I understand that is settled.” Stiles handed him a Walking Liberty half dollar. “It is. Although we all wish we’d have seen the fur fly.” “You would not have wanted to see that.” They saw him in to his client, who had little to tell him. It was another shoplift, and it could probably go for time served, two days. Alan said he would take two more if he could get it over with. Will saw his second client, Ann Rodrigues, charged with prostitution. Ann just wanted out, she didn’t care about a plea or a conviction. “Ann, I’m your lawyer, not your dad, but this is a real dead end profession. I will, of course, get you out as fast as I can, because that’s what you want. But I see a pretty young lady who will look 50 when she is 30, and end up picking up Jack the Ripper. I wish I could keep all that from happening.”

  “Nice of you to care. That brings up the count of nice guys in my life to one. Will, just get me out.” “I might find a good man for you. I’m not saying the guy on the Calendar, but a decent guy who would treat you like a lady.”

  “Thanks, Will. Just get me out.” He went into the little courtroom at the jail. Jeff Aines was the prosecutor. Will got in line to see him. It didn’t take long. “So, Alan Richards. Plead at arraignment time served considered served.”

  “Thank you, Jeff.” “And Ann Rodrigues. A girl has to work. Same deal.” “That will work, too.” “I wish I’d seen you and Dorsey. Especially if it had gone all the

  way.” “You would not want to see that.” “Maybe not.” Will showed him the Walking Liberty half. “Codfish deals are for sure, Will.”

  Will went back to the pews, but there were no free seats. He leaned on the wall.

  Judge Amos Jenkins was seated. He heard a bunch of cases.

  “State v. Rodrigues”

  Judge Jenkins looked at the file. Mr. Ames, how does your client wish to proceed?

  “Your honor, we have a plea agreement. Pursuant to that agreement, Ms. Rodrigues will plead guilty to the information, and will be sentenced to time served considered served.”

  “How about if the court does not accept this plea bargain?”

  “In that case, your honor, I would request that you put on Jimi Hendrix and turn the volume all the way up, because it’s time to rock and roll.”

  “You make it fun to do arraignments, Mr. Ames. It’s a unique talent you have. You behave outrageously, yet not offensively. Don’t try this at home, kids.

  “You have another case, Mr. Ames?

  “I do, your honor. Alan Richards. Same thing.”

  “And if the court does not accept the plea bargain?”

  “I didn’t want it to go this far, your honor, but I would ask for Janis Joplin.”

  “Time served considered served. Let’s get these people out of the court and back to the street where they can do the stupid things we expect of them.”

  “Right, your honor.”

  “Ever so right, Mr. Ames.”

  Will went out. He drove to a nursing home.

  “I’m here to see Mr. Albert.”

  He was shown in. “Hi, Hank.”

  “Been a long time.”

  “I should have seen you more.”

  “I was like that when I was young. It’s all right.”

  Will told Hank what was going on. He asked Hank what he should do.

  “Will, what is the most important part of philosophy?”

  “Ethics.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you can’t make a move without deciding if it’s right. You have to mark out what is wrong before you do anything. Otherwise, you are not living your beliefs.”

  “You want to be the Aristotelian virtuous man.”

  “Yes.” “Well, you have the easy answer. You could make Marie happy.” “But she isn’t what I want.”

  “I would start telling people she was my daughter. Or, well, she isn’t maybe quite young enough. Tell them she is your niece.”

  “The Aristotelian virtuous man tells lies like that?”

  “Will, people live in a world of fiction. You think it all ended with Santa Claus?”

  “No.”

  “You read The Truth About Epistemology.”

  “Of course. I have all seven of your books.”

  “I’ve said it, you’ve read it. We need myth
and legend. We have to have heroes who are better than we could ever be. We need God, although of course we had to create him in our own image. The subconscious is honest about it, and makes up whatever reality it wants. The conscious mind thinks it is reality based, but that is a part truth. A deal with the subconscious to combine some of the real world that needs to be dealt with, and some of the dream world that we really want to live in.”

  “Dad, would you like to come and see my new house?”

  “I sure would. Anything to get out of this place. I’d go look at the dump. And I’m pleased to be asked to play your Dad.”

  “My place is a little better than the dump, but.”

  They went out to Will’s car. Hank had his cane but he was carrying it. They drove to the house.

  When they came in, Will saw his tools all over the floor. “Marie, what’s going on?”

  “I’m cleaning all this stuff. Freddie came over and put the locks on the garage doors.” She handed him a key. “He left some more in that box. He said he has tons of them.”

  “I’m going to put a lot of this stuff in the garage, then. The car doesn’t need to be out of the rain. This is Hank. He’s my philosophy professor from way back, but he’s going to be my Dad, now.”

  “You just hire a Dad?”

  “My parents are dead, and so is my brother. You’re his daughter. My older brother’s daughter. My niece.”

  “I have anything to say about this?”

  “We’re listening.”

  “I want to be your wife, not your niece.”

  “But if you could be my niece, and you couldn’t be my wife.”

  “Well, then, I guess that makes Hank my gramps.”

  She ran over and hugged Hank. “Hi gramps!”

  “Let me show you the house, Dad.”

  They walked around, and ended up in the second bedroom. “You don’t like the nursing home, Dad.”

  “Nobody does.”

  “So this is your room, if you want it.”

  “I’ll think on it.”

  “You’ve had ten times as long to consider this as a man of your intelligence and education should need. You can pay rent if you like. You can hire Marie to assist you, since you have the money for that anyway.”

  “Four hundred sixty two a month.”

  “That’s a fortune to her.”

  “OK, Will. I’m in.”

  “We might be able to get a bed for you today.”

  “You Marines move fast.”

  “Maybe you can be one of us. The Few. The Deranged. The Jar Heads.”

  “They might not like that.”

  “Dad, I’m proud to be a Marine. I’m proud of the Corps, and the men I served with, the men who served under me. For what we spend, and for what we get, the Marine Corps is the best bargain the United States ever had or ever will.”

  Will called Teresa at St. Vincent’s. She had a bed, and a dresser, and she could deliver it all. She could have the truck stop by Will’s apartment and pick up a few things. They could pick Marie up at the house, and she would have two hundred dollar bills. That was all fine. Yes, they could bring a whole lot of cardboard boxes. Will’s niece was single and lonely, beautiful, and very nice, too. Teresa would think on that.

  Will called his answering machine at the office and took down the notes. He returned a couple of calls and wrote the rest down on some paper from the scrap heap in the box by the phone. He changed into a suit, and ran for court.

  The judge was Jack Blair. A little punk who bent the law in the state’s favor. A small man with a small man complex. Will was everything Jack Blair couldn’t or wouldn’t be, and Blair resented him.

  The hearing was on a motion to suppress. Will had moved for it because the cops had come to the client’s garage, and smelled at the space alongside the door, and known there was marijuana being grown in there. The state was relying on a case in which the police had come to someone’s door, and there seen some muddy boots. The court had decided that they had a lawful vantage point, since there was a presumption that it was all right for anyone to come to a front door. Will had distinguished the case by saying that the garage was not on the way to the front door. “All rise.” Will stood up. “Court is now in session, the honorable Jack Blair presiding.” “You may be seated.”

  “I have before me a motion to suppress, in case number 95-41805, State v. Anderson. Mr. Ames, you are the moving party. Please begin.”

  Will stood up. “Your honor, this case is very simple. The precedent is that anyone can come to the front door of a house, even the Girl Scouts.”

  Two women lawyers in the pews giggled. They were opposing each other on a discovery motion in a massive civil case that had been underway for four years. Neither of them cared about their own case, which would drag on, win or lose, anyway. They were watching Sir William.

  “I don’t have a problem with that, your honor. People have been going to the front doors of other people’s homes for a very long time. But going around the side of the house is a search. If someone went around the side of my house, I would come out with a gun.”

  “Counsel’s predilection for violence and firearms are known to this court.”

  “Thank you, your honor.”

  The women giggled again, but stopped when the judge looked at them.

  “In this case, your honor, there was a paved walk from the sidewalk to the front door. That was the only place a person exercising the privilege of coming on another’s property would walk. There is no presumption that one can go down a driveway. And you can’t. I certainly would not walk down your driveway. And I don’t think you would walk down mine.”

  “Nothing would induce me to do so, Mr. Ames. Nor any other rational person. Your driveway is certainly a very dangerous place.”

  “As, your honor, every citizen with a right to keep and bear arms should make his home, and the yard around it. Mr. Zeigler?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Ames. Ronald Zeigler for the state, your honor. The simple matter is, the officers came to the door, nobody answered, so they looked around the side, they smelled the plants, and they got a warrant based on that.”

  “The motion is denied. Mr. Zeigler, please submit an order, and of course, serve Mr. Ames with a copy for his possible objections. Olirani, inc. v. Western lubrication, inc.?

  The two ladies went up to the counsel tables, with smiles at Will and Ron.

  They went out the door. “You were right, Will. If you came to my house, and I didn’t answer the door, yeah, you could come around the side and see if I was in back. It’s fundamentally different for the state. Official business should be conducted in a very proper way.”

  “I agree. You want some coffee?”

  “We have coffee. Let’s drop your car at your office, and you can come in and drink the state’s coffee.”

  “OK.”

  They went to Will’s office, and then Will got into Ron’s car. “You like being a prosecutor, Ron?”

  “When I get a genuine bad guy yes. But these people who populate the system, no.”

  “Right.”

  They came up the steps, and then got in the elevator.

  “We need to figure something out, Will. Something better than this.”

  “But you know that the people who made things the way they are are the same people who would have to change them. They don’t want to.”

  They got out of the elevator. Doug came down the hall, and looked up, suddenly seeing Will. “Will! Got a minute? I have something to tell you.”

  “I was just here to have a cup of coffee with Ron.”

  “Well, that’s great. We need to build bridges, get things taken care of. Ron, could you return some calls or something, give me about 10 with Will?”

  “Sure.”

  “Come on over to my office, Will.”

  He was a lot harder to dislike in person than in the abstract. He had that thing about him that successful politicians do, of seeming to be everyone’s friend.


  They went in his office. He hit the intercom. “Jane, could Will Ames and I have some coffee?”

  “Yes you can.”

  He sat behind his desk, motioning Will to the chair in front of it. “Will, I am hearing that some people think my employees cannot date defense lawyers. That isn’t so. I’m glad to have you here to work with us in resolving cases to be fair to everyone. I trust Ms. Jasmine, whether she dates you or not. I would maybe want to review a settlement of a major felony, but shucks, Will. You guys are good.”

  “I’m glad to hear you think that.”

  Jane came in with coffee, Will’s with a lot of milk in it. “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  She smiled at him for a second, then scurried.

  “Will, I know you can do the right thing. Plea bargaining is the engine that runs this office. We cannot do without it; you know that. You and Ms. Jasmine can sit down with ten cases, and in an hour, do what the court would spend a week on. There is an understood honesty. If your client is a son of a bitch, you would not tell her he is a nice guy. You’re a great trial lawyer. I wouldn’t take cases against you because it would hurt my average. You get the best deals this office can give, because we know how good you are. Ask her out if you want.”

  Will walked out of the office. He went down to Ron’s.

  He knocked, and Ron let him in. he sat in the chair.

  “I’m a great trial lawyer, the office loves me, I can date the girls, we need to build bridges.”

  “The girls pinned his ears back.”

  “What did they do?”

  “I don’t know, or want to. You’re a lion, Will. What is even more dangerous than the lion?”

  “His pride. One lioness is nothing compared to the lion. But all ten of them?”

  “Right. You could run Doug right on out of his office without hardly trying.”

  “Me, run for DA?”

  “You’re so innocent politically. If the vote was taken in this office, it would be a landslide.” “Why would I run for DA?”

  “The money. The power. The possibility of doing good. Take your pick.”

  “That’s what Doug is afraid of.”

  “It’s not a monster under his bed.”

  “If I did it, what do you think the chances are?”