“And that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Why did you go?”
“I had a business matter to discuss.”
“What kind of business matter?”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential.”
“The police will ask you the same question.”
“Then I shall answer it,” Reynolds replied. “But you are not the police, are you?”
Ben felt his fists tighten. Reynolds’s air of passive serenity was making his skin crawl. “I’d like to look at Lombardi’s business records.”
“I’m afraid that is impossible.”
“Mr. Reynolds, it may be very important to Christina’s case.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Mr. Reynolds, I have a responsibility to my client—”
“As do I, Mr. Kincaid.” For the first time, Reynolds’s voice increased minutely, both in volume and speed. “Those documents are strictly confidential. At least until we’ve completed probate. Then you may take the matter up with Tony’s heirs.”
“That could take months!”
“I’m afraid that will likely be the case. I’m sorry.”
His voice, Ben thought, gave little indication of either fear or sorrow. “Mr. Reynolds, think about Christina, your own legal assistant. This could be a matter of life or death for her.”
“Mr. Kincaid,” Reynolds said, “there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”
“I can subpoena those records.”
“You can try. But you will have to convince the judge that the business records are somehow relevant to your murder case, and that may be rather difficult.”
Yeah. Especially with the judge I drew.
“And of course,” Reynolds continued, “your subpoena will put the federal district court judge in conflict with the state probate court judge. Those interjudicial disputes are always messy…and extremely time consuming.”
I get the message, jerk. I might as well lay off, because I don’t have that much time. The government has already filed a complaint and the date for the preliminary hearing was set; under the Speedy Trial Act, the countdown to Christina’s trial had already begun. A lawyer of Reynolds’s ilk could file motions and countersuits and cause all manner of delays for a good deal longer than it would take Moltke to get Christina into the courtroom. While Reynolds sat around playing lawyer games, Christina would go to trial, on schedule.
Whether she had any defense or not.
Christina sat in her office staring at the walls. The cardboard boxes had multiplied while she was gone—whether by spontaneous generation or inbreeding, she wasn’t sure. But they totally covered all four walls now; there wasn’t even a space where she could pretend there was a window. She had never liked this claustrophobic decor, but now it provided a distinct reminder of a certain six by-eight-foot cell she had no desire to ever see again in her life.
She was distracted from her interior decorating reverie by a timid knock. Alf Robins was standing in the doorway. “What’s up, Alf? Come by to see if the slammer changed me?”
Alf stepped cautiously into the office. “I…er…need to discuss something with you.”
“Well, don’t be shy. I live to serve. Have a seat.”
Alf sat in the chair opposite her desk. He was one of five attorneys in the firm for whom Christina worked. Alf was the youngest of them by far; he had just graduated from TU law school the previous May. “I’ve been asked to…well, to deliver a message.”
“Oh?”
Alf fiddled with his fingers. “I want you to know this isn’t my idea. I’m just the messenger.”
Christina definitely didn’t like the sound of that. “What’s it all about, Alfie? Are you here to tell me the firm isn’t going to pay me for the time I was in jail? If so, don’t sweat it—I think that’s fair. The firm’s disability policy probably doesn’t cover incarceration.”
“I’m afraid it’s a bit…more than that,” Alf said. He was beginning to stutter, and he looked as if he sincerely wished he was anywhere other than where he was. “It seems the firm has decided to let you go.”
Christina stared back at him. “Me? You’re kidding.”
“I wouldn’t kid about something like that.”
“But why? I’ve kept my billable hours up. I’m the most experienced legal assistant in the firm. Every litigator here has been trying to get me on his team.”
“I know,” Alf said, hugging his knees. “I know.”
“Then why the hell am I being fired?”
“I believe the firm feels there could be adverse publicity resulting from having—” He looked down at the floor. “—an accused murderess on the payroll.”
Christina leaped out of her chair. “But I didn’t do it!”
Alf held his hands in front of himself, as if to hold her back. “I’m sure…I mean, I know—”
Christina slapped his hands away. “Don’t be such a wimp, Alf. I’m not going to hurt you.” She widened her eyes and held her hands like claws. “We murderesses only strike at night, when the moon is full.”
“It wasn’t my idea,” Alf said hastily. “The decision was made by the Executive Committee by consensus.”
“And they sent you, the lowest man on the totem pole, to give me the bad news. What a bunch of cowards.”
“Believe me, Christina, I didn’t want to do this.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But you didn’t want to lose your job either, huh? Who gave the order? Reynolds?”
Alf cleared his throat. “I’m…er, not altogether sure I should say.”
“As I thought. Reynolds.” She strode toward the door. “Well, by God, I’m not leaving without giving him a piece of my mind!”
“Christina, wait!”
It was too late. Christina was already down the hall and around the corridor. She arrived at Reynolds’s office just as he was escorting Ben out.
“Ben!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Reynolds and I were having a little chat,” Ben said succinctly.
“Yeah?” She glared at Reynolds. “Well, I’m going to have a little chat with you too, you miserable pantywaist.”
Reynolds fingered his shirt collar. “I believe you should, uh, be speaking to Mr. Robins.”
“I’m not going to waste my time with your toadies, Reynolds. I’m going straight to the horse’s butt!”
“What’s this all about?” Ben asked.
“This miserable SOB fired me! Can you believe it?”
Ben faced Reynolds. “Is this true?”
Reynolds shrugged uncomfortably. “The economy being what it is…Cutbacks became necessary.…”
“Bull,” Christina said. “He’s cutting me loose because he’s afraid of adverse publicity. He’s convicting me before the trial begins!”
“I assure you the firm will provide a full two-week severance package—”
“I ought to sever you from your head!” Christina shouted. “I’m the best legal assistant you ever had!”
Reynolds glanced up and down the hallway. A crowd was beginning to gather. “Perhaps we should step into my office—”
“I’d sooner die, you miserable worm,” Christina said. “How can you live with yourself, anyway?”
Ben grabbed Christina’s arm. “Christina, perhaps you should calm down.…”
“Why should I? I’ve never been fired in my entire life. And now this cretin puts a permanent stain on my record!”
Ben stepped between Christina and Reynolds. “Mr. Reynolds, I would ask you, as one attorney to another, to reconsider your decision. The prosecuting attorney will almost certainly use this against us. He’ll make sure the jury knows Christina is unemployed and will either suggest that she is a shiftless loser or that the people who know her best believe she is guilty.”