the doorway. I leaned against the frame, hesitating.
He gave me a look. “I can cut my normal fees because he’s gay— that’s not a problem. But I can’t do this pro bono.” He sat down. “I also know approximately how much he makes working at the airport. We can work out a payment schedule, that’s no big deal.”
I made a decision. “Well, I’ll do it for free.” Paul couldn’t be a killer. He just couldn’t. I rushed on, “I mean, he doesn’t have the money, would probably have to borrow some from me, and it seems kind of stupid to have to borrow money to pay me.”
“Honey, “ Loren said, “the only way I can get you involved in client-attorney privilege is to have you working for me on the case, and even then, a judge could easily decide it doesn’t apply, if the DA really wants to press it.” He sighed. “Print out a contract; I’ll retain your services for a dollar. I doubt a judge would want to know how much I’m actually paying you.”
“That presents another problem.” I said. Think of it as work. Paul isn’t your boyfriend, he’s the client. It was going to be hard to be objective.
“Which is?”
“I already have a client, one who has had business dealings with Mark Williams.” It was getting easier. Just another client, just another client . “There may be a conflict of interest.”
“Your client might have a motive?” A sly smile spread across Loren’s features. His eyes gleamed. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head.
“I can’t say, one way or another.” I held up my hands. “But there might wind up being a conflict of interest.”
“You don’t have privilege in court, you know,” Loren said as he lit another cigarette. I joined him.
“I know that. If called to testify, I will. But right now, I don’t know whether my client has motive or not. “
“So there may not be a conflict of interest.” Loren’s eyes glinted.
“But one may came up.” I pulled up my standard contract on the computer, typed in a little addendum about the possibility of my needing to dissolve the contract instantly and without explanation. “You realize any information I dig up that you might use in court might be considered ‘tainted’ by the district attorney since I also have this other client. And if it turns out, by whatever chance, my client is guilty, it will be even more tainted by my personal relationship with Paul.” Christ, what a fucking mess.
“I don’t have to prove he’s innocent, Chanse.” Loren signed the contract after I finished printing it, topened his wallet and handed me a dollar with a lopsided grin. “There—consider yourself retained. And don’t worry too much, okay? All I need is a shadow of a doubt, remember? The state has to prove he’s guilty. My job is a lot easier than theirs. And if I can’t get one single person on that jury to think Paul just might be innocent, then I’m not much of a lawyer, am I? And if you can’t find me some evidence to help create that doubt, you’re not much of a detective.” When I didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Look, Chanse, we’re both very good at what we do. Take comfort in that.” He picked up his briefcase and headed to the door. “Reasonable doubt, Chanse.” He looked at me carefully. “What do you think, Chanse? Do you think he’s guilty?”
“I don’t know what I think, Loren.” I opened the door for him. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, Chanse. I’ll be in touch.”
I watched him get into his Mercedes, waving as he drove off. I shivered. Yeah, he’s probably right, I thought as I walked back into the apartment and got out the joint. I put one of Paul’s Destiny’s Child CDs in the stereo, sat down on the couch, and lit the J. He was a good lawyer, and I’m good at my job. But I knew the only way I could ever be satisfied was to prove him one hundred percent not guilty.
Christ.
Hell of a day , I thought, as I let the smoke out
He gave me a look. “I can cut my normal fees because he’s gay— that’s not a problem. But I can’t do this pro bono.” He sat down. “I also know approximately how much he makes working at the airport. We can work out a payment schedule, that’s no big deal.”
I made a decision. “Well, I’ll do it for free.” Paul couldn’t be a killer. He just couldn’t. I rushed on, “I mean, he doesn’t have the money, would probably have to borrow some from me, and it seems kind of stupid to have to borrow money to pay me.”
“Honey, “ Loren said, “the only way I can get you involved in client-attorney privilege is to have you working for me on the case, and even then, a judge could easily decide it doesn’t apply, if the DA really wants to press it.” He sighed. “Print out a contract; I’ll retain your services for a dollar. I doubt a judge would want to know how much I’m actually paying you.”
“That presents another problem.” I said. Think of it as work. Paul isn’t your boyfriend, he’s the client. It was going to be hard to be objective.
“Which is?”
“I already have a client, one who has had business dealings with Mark Williams.” It was getting easier. Just another client, just another client . “There may be a conflict of interest.”
“Your client might have a motive?” A sly smile spread across Loren’s features. His eyes gleamed. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head.
“I can’t say, one way or another.” I held up my hands. “But there might wind up being a conflict of interest.”
“You don’t have privilege in court, you know,” Loren said as he lit another cigarette. I joined him.
“I know that. If called to testify, I will. But right now, I don’t know whether my client has motive or not. “
“So there may not be a conflict of interest.” Loren’s eyes glinted.
“But one may came up.” I pulled up my standard contract on the computer, typed in a little addendum about the possibility of my needing to dissolve the contract instantly and without explanation. “You realize any information I dig up that you might use in court might be considered ‘tainted’ by the district attorney since I also have this other client. And if it turns out, by whatever chance, my client is guilty, it will be even more tainted by my personal relationship with Paul.” Christ, what a fucking mess.
“I don’t have to prove he’s innocent, Chanse.” Loren signed the contract after I finished printing it, topened his wallet and handed me a dollar with a lopsided grin. “There—consider yourself retained. And don’t worry too much, okay? All I need is a shadow of a doubt, remember? The state has to prove he’s guilty. My job is a lot easier than theirs. And if I can’t get one single person on that jury to think Paul just might be innocent, then I’m not much of a lawyer, am I? And if you can’t find me some evidence to help create that doubt, you’re not much of a detective.” When I didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Look, Chanse, we’re both very good at what we do. Take comfort in that.” He picked up his briefcase and headed to the door. “Reasonable doubt, Chanse.” He looked at me carefully. “What do you think, Chanse? Do you think he’s guilty?”
“I don’t know what I think, Loren.” I opened the door for him. “Thanks, man, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem, Chanse. I’ll be in touch.”
I watched him get into his Mercedes, waving as he drove off. I shivered. Yeah, he’s probably right, I thought as I walked back into the apartment and got out the joint. I put one of Paul’s Destiny’s Child CDs in the stereo, sat down on the couch, and lit the J. He was a good lawyer, and I’m good at my job. But I knew the only way I could ever be satisfied was to prove him one hundred percent not guilty.
Christ.
Hell of a day , I thought, as I let the smoke out
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