Jack shrugged. “I’ll either drop out and get high a lot and play my Fender Strat, or I’ll appraise properties. I love real estate, and I always wanted to work in the town you just left. Just finished a few courses. I’m prepared.”
“San Francisco real estate, now that sounds like such a kick, so stress-free.” Paul laughed for a long time. “I don’t believe you, okay? You’re totally hooked on taking care of the world’s sad sacks.”
“Paul, life’s short. I’m getting gray hair on my chin and my favorite tunes are going on twenty years old. I miss Johnny Rotten. I’m single and always end up being the beta male while the alpha carries off the girl. Now that I’m trying to remedy. I’ve got myself such a fine woman and I sure would like to keep her.”
“How long has Remy worked with you?”
“A couple of years. I hardly even noticed her the first year.”
“Unbelievable,” said Paul.
“You get busy and blind on this job.” Jack pulled in front of the sheriff’s station. “Shall we try for another climb next weekend? I enjoyed that.”
“I’ll let you know,” answered Paul. “A couple of hot bodies might just cross my path between now and then.”
“You’re making a rapid recovery from your pending divorce.”
“I’m in recovery, yeah. That’s a good way to put it. I gave up on monkhood pretty fast. Female company makes me feel better for a short while. Nothing I like better than to chill on a comfortable couch with my arm around a honey who doesn’t mind watching New York beat Dallas.”
Paul took his pack out of the backseat and leaned his arm on the car door, looking thoughtfully at Jack. “As for you, be careful, buddy.”
CHAPTER 21
ON MONDAY MORNING, THREE DAYS BEFORE THANKSGIVING, Richard Filsen opened up his spacious law office in Seaside early. He liked how much he could afford in this neighborhood, and he liked that in this case his innate parsimony came off as a demonstration of a democratic nature to his snootier fellows. As usual, a couple of homeless types were propped against the sun-warmed wall. “Hey, Counselor, dollar for the poor,” said the younger one.
He gave them a dollar apiece and a business card apiece, then said, “Now get away from my office.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not gonna happen.”
He got the coffee going and opened the shades, then sat down at his desk the whole morning thinking about how royally, how imperially, pissed off he was, and how he would soon mete out punishment to all concerned.
Old, failing Ginny Reilly and the deal she thought gave her some kind of power over him. As if. He could mow her down with a feather. Tell Nina. Ruin their relationship forever. Leverage. Secrets. How he loved the game.
He had an important entry in his daybook: a junket to Reno the next weekend, an all-nighter at his favorite casino-hotel, the good old Nugget. He needed at least $10,000 in case he didn’t hit a hot streak for a while at the poker tables, though he was sure this time would be different from the previous few times.
Nobody would pay him this week, unfortunately. They would be spending all their money on Thanksgiving turkey with all the trimmings.
He checked his voice mail. His part-time secretary wasn’t in today.
Perry came in at ten, his jaw swollen from dental work and arms full of files. Richard could relate to the jaw. His own had been receiving too much attention lately. He sat impatiently while Perry ran through a list in his deliberate fashion, asking for Richard’s approval on things and giving him letters and pleadings to sign. Perry was a fucking pain in the ass, but he was a detail-oriented pain in the ass, and indispensable for the dirty work.
Perry put his files away and said, “Could we talk about—about my employment again?”
“I’m pretty busy right now. Somebody’s got to get out and bring in clients.”
“Could we talk about it for five minutes?”
“Oh, if you insist.”
Perry was obviously not feeling too well. He held his jaw and said, “I’ve been working for you for over four years.”
“This is true.”
“I’ve done a good job for you. Worked hard six days a week, done whatever the firm needed.”
“I acknowledge that.” Ugh.
“It was my work that brought in the big fee from the oil company case, but you didn’t even give me a bonus. I handle the accounts and I see you’ve made several large payouts to yourself and we’ve almost spent the money.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a bonus.”
“How much? When?” Perry’s rabbity ears had turned red. “I need something more specific.”
“Perry, I have to apologize. I have been insensitive and unjust to you. I’m going to make it up to you. I’ll give you more than a bonus. Know what I’m gonna do? Make you a partner in this firm.” Richard smiled widely, stood up, and shook Perry’s hand. Perry’s eyes widened and he stood up, too. His eyes were suspiciously bright.
“Do me a favor. Please don’t weep.”
“I can’t thank you enough. It means a lot to me.”
“You keep us going, my friend,” Richard said. “You are the heart of our enterprise. It’s true, I have had some special budgetary needs these past few months, and I did have to take the profits from the oil case, but next time we have a win like that, we’re going to split the fee.”
“Fifty-fifty?”
“Of course not fifty-fifty. I’m still the senior partner. How about”—Richard tapped his lips—“eighty-twenty. How about that?”
Perry shook his head. “I—that doesn’t seem quite fair.”
“Your name will be on the door in big silver letters. I know how long you have been imagining it. ‘Law Offices of Filsen and Tompkins.’ You can put an announcement in the paper.”
“But eighty-twenty—”
Richard let out a small exasperated sound. He allowed a disapproving expression to cross his face. Perry looked away like the beta boy he was.
“Seventy-five–twenty-five. Because it’s you, Perry. Because you’re my right-hand man. You’ve shown your loyalty. You love this place as much as I do. Together we’ll build this into the biggest and best law firm in Monterey County.”
“When would this happen?”
“Well, there’s no money to split right now, but rest assured it’ll happen soon.”
“I need a definite time.”
Richard knew that stubborn expression. It seemed that the worm was developing a nascent spine. Perry might possibly have another job offer. Richard pursed his lips. “All right. January first.”
Joy spread over Perry’s features. “Really?”
“No question.”
“I can’t wait to tell my wife.”
“Thought you two had broken up.”
“This will help,” Perry said. “She told me my career was going nowhere.”
“Well, you tell her, you’re gonna be rich and it won’t be long. We’ve got some hot cases and you’re gonna make them work for us. Right?”
“Right.” Perry had forgotten about the bonus.
“Damn straight. Now I have to run. I gotta bring us in some bacon by the end of the week.”
“From who?”
“Dr. Albert Wu.”
Wu’s offices on Cass Street were open. An Asian girl at the desk said the acupuncturist was with a patient, but she would tell Dr. Wu his lawyer had arrived.
Wouldn’t she have seen Virginia Reilly? Filsen paced around the anteroom, looking at the delicate bird paintings on the wall. Old habit kept him from sitting down—it put you in too passive a position. Two more patients waited: an attractive athletic type leafing through a magazine, and a mother-daughter combo.
When the acupuncturist came out, wiping his hands on a towel, a young woman was with him. He escorted her out the door before he turned to Filsen.
“Counselor!” Wu said, smiling. “What a surprise!”
Filsen followed him back past an examining room to a big office with
a Chinese rug and jade frogs with coins in their mouths, koi watercolors on the wall—the whole restful-decor thing. One wall was taken up by a massage table.
“You’re doing well, Dr. Wu,” Richard remarked, settling into a straight-backed, carved rosewood chair.
“Western people are finally accepting the virtues of acupuncture. Back problems, neck problems, knee problems, problems with bad habits.” Wu leaned forward suddenly. “You perhaps could use a course of treatment yourself, Counselor. Please forgive my suggesting it.”
“Nothing wrong with me. I do fifty miles a day on my bike.”
Wu sat back. “What brings you here?”
“You called me, remember?”
“I didn’t know lawyers made house calls.”
“Attorneys do all kinds of things that might surprise you, Dr. Wu. I’m here because we have something to discuss.”
Wu steepled his fingers. Long and graceful, they were weighed down by a ludicrously heavy gold ring. “I’m concerned about this woman. Mrs. Reilly. I’d like to know how all this is going. Ever since she called my office last month and said she had hired this law firm, that she was going to sue me—”
“I told you, I’ll get you off this hook in a jiffy. But you have to trust me and let me handle it.”
“Why not tell me the details?”
“It’s my job to protect you.”
“That’s not an answer, Mr. Filsen.”
Richard made his voice harder. “I guarantee this woman will go away by the end of the year. That’s thirty-six days away. She will trouble you no more. Your only job is to be patient.”
Wu bit his lip.
Richard stretched out his legs, looking Wu right in the eye. “Remember the case with the girl? Didn’t I dispose of that quietly and without any trouble? You want this taken care of just as quietly, don’t you?”
Wu looked down, no doubt recalling the disagreeable nature of that case, which had cost Wu plenty. But he had been glad to pay.
And Richard had also, during the disposition of that case, discovered an exhilarating detail that should make Wu’s stiff bow tie droop some, once he heard Richard knew.
“I would just like to know how—”
“There will never be a lawsuit, and it won’t cost you a dime over your legal fees. Trust me.”
“But how can you settle this? I can’t compromise. I never touched this woman. Meantime, I can’t sleep at night, Counselor.”
Richard had to laugh. Wu, with his big, broad innocent Buddha smile, carried concealed weapons, knives to stick you in the back. Richard had seen him in action before, when the man had violated a patient too drugged up to testify about what had really happened when the time came. He would never forget that.
“Let me get this straight. This sick lady, Virginia Reilly, who has probably never done a thing wrong in her life, although I’m certainly going to check into that, made up a story about you for no reason and has no proof that you treated her? Was she stupid enough to pay you in cash?”
“Many of my patients pay in cash.”
“Let me guess. Because you demand it?”
“I never treated her.”
“What’s your daily planner gonna say about that? No appointment notation?”
“She made an appointment, but she never came in.”
Why oh why did all of his clients lie? Didn’t they realize he was on their side?
“She won’t have a canceled check cashed by you?”
“No.”
“No receipt?”
“I often misplace my receipt book.”
“What happened after her fucking finger fell off due to your treatment? Did she at least call to complain?”
“You offend me, Counselor.”
“And no one, not that smart-looking girl you’ve got out there in your reception area, no other waiting clients, no chauffeur or cabbie, absolutely nobody saw her or spoke with her directly about her injury.”
“Correct.”
Richard nodded. “Good.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Of course I believe you. I was only playing devil’s advocate for a moment to keep you aware that this is indeed a serious situation, although I will have it resolved shortly. Now. Are we clear? You will not question my methods, and I will give you the result I have guaranteed?”
“I suppose I can wait another month to see if you can deliver,” Wu said.
“I will need another twenty thousand dollars. Additional fees. In cash. By Friday.”
That got Wu up on his feet. The genial smile turned poker-faced. “What? Our arrangement was for an initial five thousand, which I have already paid.”
“You’re not licensed to practice acupuncture in the state of California. The opposition will be onto that in a second. I have to work fast and hard here. That’s gonna blow your image, pal.”
Wu’s expression did not change.
“Why don’t you have a license, anyway? You have plenty of money. You seem to be well educated, but I don’t see an OMD among those certificates on your wall.”
“I am well educated. I know what I’m doing.”
“I always check on my clients’ licenses.” Perry had quickly turned up Wu’s problem.
“You are a diligent man,” said Wu, curling his lip at him as if at a stinking salmon. “Right. I passed the national exam but not the state one. I do not have much formal training in acupuncture. And there were some irregularities. But—I’m good at what I do. I’ve studied extensively, both here and in China. I view the lack of a license as an arbitrary decision made by ignorant bureaucrats. Unfortunately, I now have to deal with an unscrupulous character like you.”
“Look. Twenty-five grand total and the case goes away. The alternative is far, far worse. You could lose everything, your business especially.”
Wu dropped the calm Buddha face. “You are blackmailing me.”
Richard said with just the right touch of injured incredulity, “What? Of course I’m not doing anything of the sort. I’m requesting a supplemental legal fee. I’m cheap at the price. Think about it. By Friday. Cash. Or—”
“Or what?”
“Why, I will not be able to prevent the unfortunate working out of your own karma.”
Wu remained impassive. “I have also checked your reputation. Your record is”—he cleared his throat, English suddenly nonaccented and much less formal—“spotty, in spite of all your recent successes. You’ve had trouble with the state Bar. You lost a huge case a few years back that cost your original firm hundreds of thousands of dollars and got you fired. Now you work with one associate. You have a high profile, but few big cases. Do you carry malpractice insurance?”
“Of course I do,” Richard lied. What? Pay those shysters for the privilege of fucking up? He never intended to fuck up again.
“I’ll need to see the certificate of insurance, considering your gambling addiction,” said Wu with that meditation-music calm of his.
“Sure, sure. I’ll get around to that when I get around to it.”
“What would your associate do if he realized you were frittering away all the firm profits playing high-stakes poker in Nevada?”
For one brief second, Richard thought he had met his match.
Nah. “Pay up or close up shop,” Richard said. “Friday.”
The poker face grew dark. Wu’s face meridians must be in full flow. Richard got up, too, happy to make use of his few inches of extra height.
“Your guarantees are as slippery as your fee structure. You’ll hear from me,” Wu said after a minute. He pressed the intercom button. His sharp-eyed assistant came in. “Escort Mr. Filsen out.”
On the way back to Seaside, Filsen continued to smile. This case alone would cover his junkets for a bit, and a few bills that needed paying. He’d give Perry a couple thousand, just because he really needed Perry right now on the custody thing with Bob.
Richard and Wu were like a married couple, knowing each other’s secrets,
a mutual protection society. And Wu knew Filsen delivered.
So many balls in the air, and he juggled so well. In his office, settling himself in his red chair, he called Remy Sorensen. A message claimed she was out of her office for two days, so he left a message for her to call him back first thing Wednesday morning. He could wait.
Reilly v. Wu et al. would never come to trial. Counsel for the defendant was on the case, and all because of an incredible stroke of good luck that had fallen like manna upon him. He was being watched over by angels, and he hoped they’d stick with him over the weekend at the poker tables.
At 5 p.m. he had just pulled the Jim Beam bottle out of his drawer when he heard the unlocked outer door open. Maybe it was a courier with a check from Wu.
But it was a false alarm. Nobody was there. Shrugging, he turned back, thinking about how everything comes together in the end.
CHAPTER 22
WEDNESDAY MORNING JACK CALLED REMY AS SOON AS he woke up. He had expected her back on Tuesday night, but she hadn’t answered the phone even though he had called until midnight.
“At last.”
“What time is it?” Remy asked in a growly, sleepy voice that aroused him instantly.
“I haven’t had a minute alone with you in weeks,” Jack said, unhappy with the yearning he heard in his voice but unable to control it. Remy brought out the visceral in him. He had to tell her how he really felt or allow her to slip through his fingers once and for all. “You’ll come to the cabin for Thanksgiving, won’t you?”
“Hang on one second.”
As he waited, his mind hinted that she might be moving to another phone for privacy. When she returned, she sounded edgy.
“You know how busy I am. I spent the past two days in Sacramento and I wish you could see what’s waiting on my desk. With these trials coming up and everything else—listen, why not meet me at the grocery store at Carmel Rancho Center in about an hour? Maybe we can take a quick walk around the Barnyard before I have to get to the office.”
Contact! Lifting a detailed list from the refrigerator, Jack walked out to his dirt driveway. The price of living in the Highlands was having to drive miles to the nearest supermarket. And he had fancy plans for tomorrow’s dinner with Paul and a few other friends: stuffed Cornish game hens and pecan pie. Might as well take care of that chore, along with meeting up with Remy.
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