A Game of Inches

by Webb Hubbell

  “Sit back and relax, my friend. Let me tell you how I think Micki and I can best help Billy.”

  I went over our plan in as much detail as I could, considering details were sorely lacking. Micki would be the public face of Billy’s defense, learning what she could from the prosecutor and Billy. I would orchestrate Clovis and Stella’s investigations.

  I was glad to have Walter at the table; his presence provided both a buffer and a kind of affirmation. If Walter was in on the plan, I couldn’t be entirely nuts. Moreover, I’d taken it for granted that Bridgeport would provide the front for Clovis and Stella, not to mention the protection and investigative help Martin and his men could provide. Fortunately, he had no problem with my assumptions.

  “Whatever you need. The sooner you figure this out, the sooner I’ll get my wife back, and the sooner I can quit worrying about her safety and yours.” No smiles, he was dead serious.

  I could tell Marshall was still bothered.

  “Jack, think about it. Someone tried to shoot you. You’re actually in hiding, and your family and colleagues may be in danger as well. I can’t let you do this. I’m sorry I ever got you involved. It’s time for me to find a different lawyer.”

  “I appreciate your concern, but I’m not sure hiring a different lawyer will end anything. Maybe that shot was meant for my friend Carol, or maybe it had nothing at all to do with Billy Hopper. In that case, my involvement won’t change a thing. Two days ago you asked if I could sit by idly, watching as an innocent man was convicted of a crime he didn’t do. Well, I can’t. I listened to Billy, and I believe him. Not much makes sense so far, but that shot does. If Billy’s guilty, why would someone want to warn me off?

  “That sniper may go after me again regardless of who you hire. Let’s make a deal. We’ll all do our best for the next two weeks. I promise to shut the whole thing down if anything goes wrong. I really will drop out of sight for a while.”

  “I don’t like it, but I know how stubborn you can be, Jack Patterson. I really don’t think I have a choice, do I?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  I spent the next half-hour making sure Marshall knew the role he was to play. He was to work with Micki on Billy’s defense, but under no circumstances was he to tell a soul where I was or that I was even involved, not even Grace or Billy. I knew both Micki and Stella would watch him like a hawk.

  It would have been nice to linger, but I didn’t want to arouse suspicion. I signed the bill and was about to rise, but Marshall had another question.

  “Why are you doing this, Jack? Billy Hopper means nothing to you. Don’t tell me this is about injustice. There’s plenty of injustice to fight that won’t get you shot.”

  I thought about it for a minute. What causes a man to take unreasonable risks? I hoped it wasn’t ego. My friendship with Marshall? Maybe. Billy Hopper? I’d spent less than an hour with him. If I my “gut” was right, people I loved could be in real danger. Maybe I should play it safe, disappear for real, taking Carol with me.

  I had tried not to think about Carol, but the box was opening. Was she real or was she a puppet of Red Shaw, or maybe some other client I didn’t even know?

  The brain is an amazing organ. It was less than ten seconds before I responded to Marshall.

  “Well the truth is I don’t like being shot at.”

  38

  AFTER THEY LEFT, I wandered back into the library. Barker’s boasted a nice outdoor garden and patio, but I felt less exposed, safer, in the empty library. I picked up a novel and tried to read, determined not to check my mail for at least an hour. I gave up after forty-five minutes. Stella had emailed to say Marshall was a quick study, had easily figured out the phones and computers. Micki’s message said that she and Marshall were about to review both the logistics of meeting with Billy and the paperwork that would formalize her representation of Billy. Micki had been admitted to the DC bar several years ago as part of our plans to work major cases together. So far, our plan hasn’t worked out, but now we were ready.

  I needed to hear a voice, so I called Clovis.

  “Strap on the pads, buddy, it’s time for action.”

  “Put me in the game, coach.”

  We both knew the sports banter was corny, but what can I say? It was our shtick. It had gotten us through more than a few tough moments.

  “I want you to focus on three things—the girl, the hotel, and Billy’s past. The girl didn’t just appear out of thin air. Somebody has to know who she is, has to miss her. And try to find the three girls who were at the banquet. Did they come back to the hotel? Micki will try to get the prosecutor’s file, but let’s face it: so far we know shit.”

  “Jack, if the law can’t figure out who she was, we’re pretty much up a creek. And how can I play tourist while I’m doing all this?”

  “Use Martin’s people. Walter said not to hesitate, and you know they’re reliable. That reminds me—I told Carol’s Pat that Martin could provide him backup if he needed it. I’d like to put a couple of guys in place now. If Pat won’t agree, do it anyway.”

  “You think she’s still in danger now you’ve been warned off?” Clovis asked.

  “No, not while I’m in hiding. But if they get wind I haven’t backed off, she’s a likely target.”

  “More than Beth?” he asked.

  “Not more, but close.”

  I knew he was thinking I was closer to this woman than I had let on. He was right.

  “The hotel—I want to know the layout, especially the floor with Billy’s room. Does security have any video footage from that night? The prosecutor probably has any physical evidence, but check it out. Also, we know Billy called Marshall, 911, and hotel security that morning. Check his hotel phone records, and also ask Stella if she can find out who Billy called from his cell phone during the preceding few days.”

  “I’ve already started down that road. It’s tough to do, but you’d be surprised how people like to talk in this town.”

  “Good,” I said. “Billy’s past is indeed a tough one. Ask Marshall to give you as much background as he can. Billy told me he was trying to find his birth family. It’s a long shot, but they could have some bearing. That’s enough for now, but remember we’re already on the clock.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting one other thing?” Clovis asked.

  “Am I? What?”

  “Carol Madison,” he replied.

  “What about her? I already told you to talk to Martin about her security.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about? You said, yourself, you couldn’t rule out her involvement.”

  I knew I had to face the possibility.

  “You’re right. Check her out, but do me a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “If you uncover anything that’s not relevant to this case—old boyfriends, financial problems, anything personal like that–don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. You have to promise me.”

  Clovis understood. “You have my word.”

  “She can never know you’re doing this.” I pleaded, knowing that in the end she’d find out.

  “You really like this woman, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, Clovis I do.”

  *****

  I carefully returned the timeworn novel to the shelf, couldn’t remember I word I’d read. I needed Maggie, but it was too risky to bring her to Barker’s. So I punched in her cell number, hoping that Stella had gotten rid of any bugs.

  “Maggie, do you have time to talk? I’ve got so much…” She didn’t let me finish.

  “Of course I do—you’re my boss, remember?”

  I laughed. “Well sometimes it doesn’t… Okay, first thing: I need you to call Red Shaw. Give him the wiring instructions for our trust account. Let it slip that Micki has agreed to represent Billy. Tell him we’re collecting the funds due Billy to help pay her fee.”

  I sensed her hesitation, but she agreed, adding, “Marshall and Micki have gone to the jail, and Stella has gone to the
Hay-Adams. Apparently our office, phones, and computers are bug free now, but she says it’s only a matter of time before the hackers realize they’ve been discovered.”

  “Time is our worst enemy right now. Normally we’d have a year to do what we need to do in two weeks,” I said.

  “I’m sorry to ask again, but why not turn everything over to another lawyer, one who’ll have the time to do it right?”

  “Because I’d be looking over my shoulder every time I walk down the street, worried about you, Beth, and Carol so much I couldn’t do any work. I think whoever is behind this knows a lot about me, and I won’t rest easy until I know just as much about him.”

  “Or her,” Maggie pointed out.

  “Or her.” I kept an even tone.

  “What do you want me to do while everyone else is feeding you information?”

  “You and I are going to focus on Red Shaw. He’s the only actual suspect I have right now. He said that Billy Hopper cost him millions. How can a rookie sensation cost an NFL owner that kind of money? He pays Hopper a rookie minimum contract, and Billy brings in thousands of fans and merchandise sales. Seems to me that Billy should have made Red a small fortune. I have to wonder if Red was gambling or betting against his own ballplayer in some kind of big stakes fantasy game.”

  “Even if he had, why would he set Billy up for murder? Maybe he had a different reason,” Maggie responded.

  “Well, maybe—I hadn’t thought about that. We need to learn as much as we can about Red’s past, how he came to be the owner of the Lobos, and the financial operation of the Lobos. Red gave me the name of my contact person with the Lobos, a Regina Halep. Tell her you need all the financial information on the team and any subsidiaries. You know the drill—ask the same questions you ask any new antitrust client: financials, economic analyses, and market studies. Don’t ask for anything that will raise a red flag.

  “And call David Dickey. Ask him to find out as much as he can about Red Shaw’s companies.”

  David was one of Walter’s favorite investment advisors. I had enjoyed his good advice many times over the years, both for the Foundation and for my own clients.

  “Won’t he be just a little curious?” Maggie asked.

  “David never talks out of school. Besides, we have the perfect reason to call David. Remember, as of today we work on retainer for the Lobos. When you talk to Regina, ask her where we should send our first bill?”

  “That’s a bit cheeky, don’t you think?”

  “It signals that I am out of the criminal defense business and back to being an antitrust lawyer.”

  “What if Red or Regina ask where you are?”

  “Tell them I had to go out of town on family business, but I’m keeping up through texts and email. Stella gave me a secure phone which can’t be traced. I’ll call them back. The more we act like its business as usual, the better off we are.”

  “How are you doing at Barker’s?” Maggie asked.

  “The accommodations are fantastic, but I really miss not being right in the middle of the action. It’s no fun working through email and phone calls. I know it’s only been one day, but it’s going to take all I’ve got to stay put.”

  “By the way, Susan Sandlin called. She’s anxious to move forward with the house sale and wants to meet with you. She says word is getting out that your house is going on the market. Several agents have already called to preview.”

  “Tell her to send the paperwork to you.”

  “She says she needs to meet with you in person. Apparently she wants to show you the comps for similar homes in your neighborhood before you and she can agree on a price. Jack, she’s bound to wonder what’s going on—I’m glad to know she’s so ethical.”

  “Okay—tell her fine, I’m happy to meet her at the house, but I won’t be back for at least a week. And no previews of the house before we meet.”

  I didn’t want to think about the house or Susan, but knew I would have to at some point. I’d acted quickly, almost on a whim, but I shouldn’t let the pressure of the situation control my judgment. I let it go, knowing I could trust her.

  “How’s the press?” I asked.

  “Disappeared, for the most part, thank goodness. As soon as Micki enters her appearance, I’m sure she’ll get all their attention. Fortunately, the hotel will serve as a haven as long as they’re inside. By the way, Rose won’t buy the family business story. She knows the only family you have is Beth,” Maggie warned.

  “I’ll tell her I’m in Memphis. She knows I have cousins in Memphis.”

  “You’re not a very good liar, Jack. You’ll tell her how nice the weather is right before she asks about the tornado.” Maggie was right.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “I’d feel better if you really were staying at the Peabody in Memphis rather than here in DC. Secrets don’t last very long in this town, and you know it. If one person lets it slip you’re at Barker’s, the whole jig is up.”

  “I know that. Guess we’ll have to trust in a little luck.”

  * * *

  TUESDAY

  * * *

  April 26, 2016

  39

  I WOKE UP Tuesday morning with a dull headache, probably the result of one more glass of cabernet than was good for me. I’d spent the rest of Monday night trying to become an expert in fantasy sports. The more I learned about fantasy, the more the integrity of the actual game seemed to be in danger. A phenomenal amount of money was being bet on the individual performances of the athletes who were supposed to be playing a team game. The potential for abuse and corruption was pretty obvious. The impact on sportsmanship, including running up the score or risking injury to pump up statistics, was subtler but just as real. Use of inside information by athletes, owners, and team employees was an obvious area of concern.

  I hoped a good breakfast would take care of my hangover—as good a cure as any. I’d just had time to glance at The Post before my phone beeped the arrival of emails. Stella had discovered that Marshall’s room was being monitored, as was his usual table in the dining room. Hotel security was most apologetic. They asked no questions and agreed to cooperate fully. I wondered if Stella might gain another client. Micki’s room hadn’t been bugged, much to her relief. Stella would spend the morning working with Martin on Bridgeport Life’s security to further our story line. I hoped she’d have time later in the day to work on the few ideas I’d given her.

  Clovis had zero luck with the Mayflower’s management—they’d been told by the prosecutor not to say anything to anyone. He had been able to get a blueprint of the floor plan for Billy’s floor. He hoped he would have better luck with the hotel employees. I suggested he try to find out if anything unusual had occurred at the hotel during the few days before or after the murder.

  Clovis hoped Micki would soon be able to get the dead girl’s autopsy and photographs. No one even vaguely fitting her description had been reported missing in the area. He’d come up with a good cover to check out the Mandarin Hotel: he and Stella were looking for a place for their wedding reception.

  He had to wait on Micki and Marshall to begin the investigation of Billy’s background. I didn’t ask him about Carol, except to verify that Martin’s men were backing up Pat. He had accepted the help, but didn’t want to alarm her with the extra security. For my part, I wondered why she felt safer at the Shore than in DC. Our phones were supposed to be secure, so I thought about calling her, but my better judgment kicked in.

  Maggie reported that Red Shaw had been most cordial: the money had already been wired. The money from James Stockdell had already cleared the bank. I was impressed—not many people can write a check for half a million dollars. Red was a little surprised to hear Micki had been hired, remarking, “Jack must have his reasons.” He reinforced that Maggie could get anything I needed from Regina Halep. She was waiting for “Gina” to get into the Lobos office in LA to make that call. She said Red had closed with an offer to contribute to Billy’s
defense fund.

  After reading all the reports and responding to each with suggestions, I called Micki.

  “I’m damn glad my room wasn’t bugged last night. Larry and I were a little enthusiastic on these fancy sheets.” Enough of their sex life, she’d made her point.

  “Well good for you. I’m glad you’re comfortable, but I’m not interested in the details. Let’s stick to business. When do you meet with Marshall and Billy?” I asked.

  “You’re no fun this morning. You sure you don’t want to know…”

  “Micki, stop it. I’m quite sure.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m meeting with a deputy US attorney at one o’clock and with Billy at two-thirty. I had breakfast with Marshall this morning. He was pretty upset to learn his room had been bugged—the possibility had never occurred to him. Grace called to tell him the press had left which I could tell was a relief. He and Larry have gone to see the American History Museum and the World War II monument. I’m glad to have them out of my hair.”

  “What can I do to help?” I asked.

  “I’d love you to be out front with the press. You know how irritated I get with them. In fact, I’d love to have you in charge of this whole damn thing. I still can’t believe you convinced me to represent a woman killer. I’m only doing this for you, you know.” She sounded serious.

  “I know, and I apologize for asking you to go against your principles. But I’ll challenge you the same way Marshall challenged me. If you still believe Billy did it after you’ve met with him, I’ll find another way to do this. I respect you too much to ask you to go against your principles.” I meant it.

  “What happened to ‘everybody is entitled to a lawyer’?” she asked.

  “I believe I already asked you that same question. Don’t worry; Billy can afford the very best. We can always get another lawyer,” I answered.

  “Then why me? You could stay in hiding and still have a damn good defense lawyer taking the lead.”