A Game of Inches

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A Game of Inches Page 16

by Webb Hubbell


  Maggie was already in; coffee and her pot of hot water waited in the conference room. Clovis was already on his second cup, and Stella was buried in a computer.

  “I thought I’d be the first one here.”

  Clovis said, “Stella got me up at six to run the Mall. We needed to run off last night’s dinner.”

  “Please don’t tell me any more about Cantler’s. I had nachos at the bar. What time does Micki arrive?”

  “I think it will be both Larry and Micki. They should land within the hour,” he responded.

  “Larry’s coming? Good for Micki.” Stella said at exactly the same time as Maggie asked, “Who’s Larry?”

  “Larry Bradford—he’s a terrific artisan carpenter. Micki found him when she needed some cabinetwork done at her place. He’s a little younger, cute as a button, and hardly ever speaks.”

  “Micki told me he had great hands.” I interjected.

  Stella laughed. “Jack, I think she was referring to his woodworking skills. He’s really very talented.”

  “Sure she was,” I responded dryly.

  Maggie began to squirm a little. “Do Micki and …Larry… understand the risk of their participation?”

  “I brought it up, and Micki promised to tell him he could be in real danger. I hope she did, but I’ll ask again when they get here,” I said.

  Stella wasn’t finished. “Don’t underestimate Larry. His family is old Little Rock, and he was educated at St. Albans and Princeton. He surprised everyone when he didn’t return to work in the family financial business after college. Instead he spent eight years in New Hampshire and Vermont as an apprentice to master carpenters and furniture makers.

  “He returned to Little Rock after his father died and opened a small woodworking studio. Several of his pieces have been exhibited at the Arts Center and in the decorative arts section of Crystal Bridges, the new museum in Bentonville. He may be a quiet man, but he has brought a measure of calm into Micki’s life that she badly needed.”

  While we waited for Micki, Stella distributed new phones to Maggie and me. She also gave me a new fully loaded Apple laptop.

  She said, “I would like to check out the network you’ll use at Barker’s.”

  “If the antagonist knows I’m at Barker’s, the game’s up anyway. Barker is anal about privacy. I bet he has an extremely secure network.” Listen to me, acting like I knew what I was talking about.

  “Still, after a few days we’ll need to figure out how I can check it out.”

  Maggie asked. “Our phones are safe again, but what about other people’s? For example, can I call Walter?”

  “I’ll check Walter’s phone tomorrow as part of our supposed reason for being here. There’s no reason not to behave normally. Just don’t tell anybody anything about Jack. Maybe we should all act as though Jack’s off on an extended vacation. You know, answer the phones as usual, but Jack’s not available. Paul has given Beth a new phone by now. Sorry, Jack, phone security isn’t cheap. My biggest worry is you might get the urge to call your new girlfriend. Should I be concerned?”

  “No, you shouldn’t.” I frowned, thinking her question was a little cheeky, even for Stella.

  “Judge Fitzgerald will have to be schooled after Jack talks to him. He needs to come straight to me after your meeting so I can explain phone and computer security. Clovis had me check out his wife and the boys’ phones and computers while we were still in Little Rock. Not a thing. Don’t you think it’s strange that so far no one seems to be bothering with the Judge?”

  “I thought about that this morning. It’s as if they don’t mind Marshall helping Billy, but they don’t want me near him,” I said.

  “Or all this has nothing to do with Billy Hopper. You’ve pissed off someone for an entirely different reason,” Clovis said.

  He had a point.

  “It will be interesting to see if there’s any reaction to Micki when she enters her appearance. I have to believe it’s all connected to Hopper, but I could be dead wrong.”

  “Speaking of Micki,” he continued, “she just texted that they’ve landed and she’s on her way in.”

  “Before Micki gets here I want your promise about something,” I said seriously. “I thought about this last night and again this morning. You all know that what we are about to embark on entails a fair amount of risk. I want each of you, especially you, Maggie, to tell me when I’ve crossed the line and you feel uncomfortable.”

  “I think you crossed that line when you decided to represent Billy Hopper. And it’s not the first time.” Maggie looked glum.

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry. But this time it will be different. With both Woody and Doug Stewart, I was out front and center, the target for bullets and speeding cars. This time I’ll be sitting in a comfortable chair while each and every one of you are on the front lines. Even Marshall will be at more danger than I am.”

  For a few seconds the room was silent. I was glad my words had sunk in.

  Maggie broke the silence.

  “Jack, I promise to let you know if you push the envelope too far. Now here’s something I thought about last night. You have great instincts. You believed in Woody Cole when not one other person in the world did. You fought for Doug Stewart when he didn’t have a chance in the world. Now your instincts tell you that if you don’t step in, Billy Hopper will find himself in jail for the rest of his life. And whoever murdered that poor woman will get off scot-free. So I’m in without reservation.

  “However, just because I trust your instincts when it comes to crime, women are another matter.”

  I deserved that.

  “So if you go too far this time, if you follow lust rather than logic, you won’t need to worry about any sniper.” She didn’t smile. Clovis looked uncomfortable. Stella just chuckled.

  36

  MICKI WAS A sight for sore eyes, she always is. Her plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots reminded me of the first time we met. She was thinner, and her hair was a little longer and darker, but her arrival made me go flush with wonderful memories.

  She gave everyone hugs, leaving me for last. Not too long ago she would have kissed me flush on the mouth, but not today. She extended her hand.

  “Thanks for sending the plane. Larry now thinks a private jet is the only way to fly.”

  Not much of a way to greet a former lover and current friend, but if she wanted to keep it professional, I’d go along.

  “Where is he? And does he know this could get dangerous?” I blurted out immediately.

  She didn’t flinch. “I told him, and he said he would come if for no other reason than to protect me. Right now he’s somewhere at the Smithsonian, studying a special exhibit of eighteenth century furniture. He wants to learn how to duplicate some of their methods. That man loves wood.” She laughed easily.

  I didn’t know why I felt so testy. I needed Micki, and if that meant getting Larry too, well, we’d deal with Larry. The group spent a little time catching up. It had been a while since Maggie and Micki and seen each other, and I admit it hurt when Maggie suggested that Micki and Larry join her for dinner. The food at Barker’s was pretty good, but…

  Micki caught me looking at my watch. “Okay, partner, now that I’m here, what’s your game plan?”

  “Stella will give you a run down on using the phones and computers, and Martin and Clovis will coordinate your security. In a nutshell, the plan is for me to go missing for the next two weeks, while you’re out front and center representing Billy Hopper.”

  “Why go missing? Clovis can protect you, he always has.” Micki asked.

  “I want whoever sent me that warning shot to believe I’m running scared. If I’m out of the picture there’s no reason for whoever to think about going after Beth, Maggie or Carol. Or you, for that matter. By the way, and I guess this sounds silly, but since I have no idea who the bad guy is, we’ve been calling him whoever or whomever, as grammar dictates. Does that work for you?”

  She mer
ely shrugged her shoulder, so I continued. “Clovis can’t protect me while he’s investigating the murder. He’s got a tough enough job pretending he’s on vacation while he tries to find out who really murdered the young woman.”

  “Seems to me you’re putting off the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to come out of hiding. What happens then? Two weeks isn’t very long. It’s taken the prosecutor over a month just to bring an indictment, and you think you can solve the crime and convince the prosecutor to drop the charges against Hopper in two weeks. You’re dreaming.”

  I appreciated her blunt assessment. “You’re absolutely right, and if either you or Larry become targets, I’ll come out of hiding immediately. When I meet with Marshall tomorrow I’ll tell him exactly that. I will not put you or anyone else at risk more than you already are. We’ll all withdraw and turn over the defense to a seasoned criminal defense lawyer.”

  “Why not do that now?” Maggie asked again. She hadn’t quite given up.

  “My gut instinct is that when Marshall came into the picture, whoever realized I might get involved, might start asking questions. Who was the girl? If Billy didn’t do it, why was she killed? Why was Billy set up? I admit to having a reputation for being a pain-in-the-ass.”

  “Anything more than gut instinct?” Micki asked.

  “Lucy Robinson invited me to her wedding announcement party, presumably so her husband could talk me into becoming the Lobos’ anti-trust lawyer. Among the conditions of the retainer is one that prohibits me from representing any NFL player. Our offices and phones have been bugged, our computers hacked. Then there’s the little incident with the sniper who obviously knew I would be at Carol’s on Friday night before her other guests arrived.

  Maggie asked, “Why would Red Shaw implicate his best player in murder? I hear he’s a ruthless businessman, but do you think he would really have someone killed? And why would he hire a sniper to scare off his brand new anti-trust attorney?”

  “Maggie, I honestly don’t know. To complicate things further, two days ago he changed his mind. Told me he’d been too hasty, hoped I would represent Billy. He even released Billy’s money so he could pay his lawyer. Maybe he found out I’m a terrible criminal attorney. I don’t want to think he’s involved, but I can’t rule it out,” I answered.

  “What about your new girlfriend? She shows up out of the blue at Lucy’s party, makes a play for you, and is one of the few people who knew you were going to be alone with her the other night. Is she on your list of suspects?” Micki asked.

  “Your points are valid. And she also works for Red Shaw. But that bullet could easily have killed her—we were pretty close at the time. If she’d known about the sniper, surely she would have kept her distance.”

  Maggie intervened. “It’s none of our business why she was so close, but maybe she didn’t know what was about to happen. You did say that Red Shaw was a last minute guest. Maybe he came to reassure her that the warning shot wasn’t meant for her.”

  “I don’t know why he came to the Eastern Shore, and it will be tough to find out since I can’t talk to Carol. Tough to figure out from my monastery at Barker’s.”

  Micki relaxed and laughed. I asked her what was so funny.

  “It’s hard to imagine you in a cloistered monastery with no female companionship. Aren’t there any women members?” She put her hand over her mouth, trying to stop laughing.

  I acted offended, but Clovis wasn’t having it.

  “You’ve got to admit, Jack, a case without a woman involved is inconsistent with the other cases we’ve worked on together.” That got the whole crew to laughing.

  Well, if laughing at my expense improved the atmosphere, it was worth it. Moreover, it was true.

  “Okay, okay. Enough.”

  “How about some marching orders?” Clovis asked.

  “Until I talk to Marshall, there aren’t any. I need his buy-in for Micki to represent Billy before we can do anything else. Why don’t you and Stella use this time to see the sights, enjoy Washington as tourists? Micki, I hope you can find Larry at the Smithsonian. The Hay-Adams is a pretty nice hotel.

  “You know, Jack, when we checked in Larry was pretty intimidated. You sure we need to stay at such an expensive place? It might inhibit our sex, doing it on those expensive sheets.”

  I wished she hadn’t said that, but at least she sounded more like the old Micki I knew.

  Blushing slightly, Maggie jumped in before I could respond in kind.

  “Clovis, why don’t you and Stella join us all for dinner. It seems logical for all of us to go out together—and safer. Plus, if we’re followed, Jack’s absence will be obvious.”

  “Good idea. May I ask where you’re going?” At least I could eat vicariously.

  “I’m not quite sure. After a month of Italian food, I know Walter would prefer something different. What about that nice French bistro in Georgetown? I think it’s called Bistro François. Not too fancy, but quite good. How does that sound to everyone?”

  I groaned.

  We were about to leave when Micki said, “You haven’t talked about Marshall. How are you going to convince him to be a part of your plan? Once he hears about the shooting, you know he’ll insist you bow out. He loves you, Jack. He’s not going to let you put your life on the line.”

  “I’m not sure. While y’all are enjoying steak frites and trout almandine, I’ll have plenty of time to figure something out.”

  * * *

  MONDAY

  * * *

  April 25, 2016

  37

  MR. KIM SMILED. Micki Lawrence had checked into the Hay-Adams. So Marshall had given up on Patterson. He should have expected Fitzgerald to bring her in, not that Lawrence wasn’t good. She was better than good, but she was predictable. Every indication was that Patterson had been scared off. He should know where Patterson was hiding by the end of the day; his tech people were monitoring all the phones. Patterson couldn’t go a day without talking to his precious Maggie.

  Jones and Rice had dinner with the Matthews, Micki, and her latest paramour, but Patterson was nowhere to be seen. It really looked like he’d fled the District, if not the country. It still bothered Kim that Jones was staying at the Mayflower, but Bridgeport Life regularly put their contractors up at that hotel. After all, it was only a Marriott.

  New Orleans was still a problem. They were still insisting on pre-approval for hits. He didn’t want risk their wrath if he went against their rules, but at the same time he didn’t like telegraphing his intentions. If Patterson was really out of the picture it wouldn’t matter.

  *****

  I ate breakfast in Barker’s dining room. Fried eggs, sausage, hash browns and biscuits that melted in your mouth even before you added butter and honey, left me in a good mood. The coffee was dark and strong, and I lingered with the Post, knowing there wasn’t much to do until Marshall and Walter arrived for lunch. For now, at least the print press had lost interest in both Billy and me.

  I spent a while in the small library Barker kept for guests, fascinated by the books others had chosen to leave. Before long I sank into an old armchair, my thoughts turning to Marshall. He was one of four black students who had integrated Westside High the day I started high school in Little Rock. Sam Pagano convinced us both to try out for football, and we showed up for practice on the same day. It soon became clear that the coach wanting nothing to do with Marshall—a story for another time. We quickly became the gang of four very close friends—Marshall, Sam Pagano, Woody Cole, and me.

  Marshall graduated summa cum laude from Stafford State, went to Yale Law, and got his masters in law at NYU. The four high school friends have remained close during college and beyond, although time, distance, and circumstances put a strain on our friendships on occasion.

  At 12:30 precisely, I was informed that Marshall and Walter were waiting for me in the main dining room.

  I gave Marshall a hug, and Walter spoke. “It’s been great to spend a lit
tle time with Marshall, but I assume I’ve done my duty, and you would like me to leave.”

  “On the contrary. If someone were watching and you left immediately, they would guess Marshall and I were meeting. No attorney-client privilege is involved, nothing you can’t tell Maggie later.”

  I trusted Walter Matthews, both personally and professionally, more than anyone in the world, except perhaps his wife. I welcomed his perspective and his advice.

  “Let’s order lunch and then talk.”

  Marshall quickly ordered a Cobb salad, hardly looking at the menu. He was clearly nervous, not uncomfortable, but nervous.

  “Something bothering you?”

  “When we arrived the man at the front door said you were staying here. I remember you said Barker’s would be the perfect place to hide. Why are you hiding, Jack?”

  So much for my carefully calibrated explanation.

  “Marshall, last Friday night at a friend’s house on the Eastern Shore, a sniper shot a high powered bullet within a few inches of my head. I wasn’t hurt, neither was my friend. I think whoever took the shot was trying to warn me off representing Billy Hopper.”

  His brows shot up and his mouth and eyes twisted into a deep frown.

  “I saw Micki in the lobby. I assume you’ve sent her home by now.”

  “No, if you agree, you are going to introduce her to Billy, and she will enter her appearance as Billy’s lawyer soon thereafter.”

  “Why would you be willing to put her at risk, when you are clearly running scared?” That hurt, but it was exactly the conclusion I hoped others would come to.

  “Because we both believe the warning shot was specific to me. Marshall, I believe Billy Hopper is innocent, and if we don’t screw this up, I hope to represent him, too.”

  I had thoroughly confused my logical friend. I signaled for our server and asked her to bring Marshall a cold Sam Adams. He sighed in relief.

 

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