Guthrie shook his head. "Sorry, Amanda, but I'm sticking to my guns. It's a noncontact visit or nothing."
"I can get a court order."
"You'll have to."
Amanda saw that it was useless to argue and she knew that Guthrie meant well.
"I'll take what I can get, for now, but I'm going right to Judge Robard as soon as I'm through."
Guthrie nodded. "I expected you would. No hard feelings I hope?"
"This just reinforces my opinion that you're a narrow-minded redneck," Amanda said with a smile.
"And proud of it," Guthrie laughed. Then he sobered. "You watch yourself with this son of a bitch. Don't let him con you and don't you let your guard down for an instant. Jon Dupre is very, very dangerous."
"Don't worry, Matt. He's one client I am definitely not going to underestimate."
"Okay, then." He stuck out a massive paw, which Amanda shook. "Say hi to your dad for me."
Guthrie left and Amanda showed the contents of her briefcase to the guard, then went through the metal detector. As she waited for Kate to follow, Amanda had to admit that she was relieved that there would be a concrete wall and bulletproof glass between her and Jon Dupre.
The noncontact visiting room was so narrow that Kate Ross had to stand behind Amanda with her back pressed against the door. Amanda sat in a gray metal bridge chair and rested her notepad and file on a ledge that projected out from a wall that was directly in front of her. The bottom of the wall was concrete and the top was bulletproof glass. It was impossible to hear through the glass, so attorney and client communicated through phones attached to the wall on both sides.
A door opened on the other side of the glass, and a guard pushed Jon Dupre into an identical space. Amanda's first impression of her new client was that he was handsome and hyperalert. Dupre's ankles were shackled, which forced him to shuffle forward unsteadily. The prisoner riveted his eyes to Amanda's, and they stayed on her. It was unnerving, but Amanda sensed fear as well as aggression. When he drew closer, she saw that Dupre's eyes were red and swollen, and there were bruises on his face.
The guard pressed Dupre down onto his chair and left. The jumpsuit her client was wearing was short-sleeved. He placed his manacled hands on the metal ledge, revealing a row of stitches on his right forearm and cuts on the sides of his fingers on both hands.
Amanda forced a smile as she picked up the receiver of her phone and gestured for Dupre to do the same.
"Who the fuck are you?" he asked.
"I'm Amanda Jaffe and I've been asked by the court to be your attorney."
"Jesus, they sent me a cunt for a lawyer. Why don't they just give me my lethal injection now."
Amanda stopped smiling. "You've been appointed a cunt for a lawyer, Mr. Dupre, because all the swinging dicks were too scared to take your case."
"And you're not?" Dupre said, tapping the receiver against the bulletproof glass.
"The jail commander wouldn't let us meet face-to-face. As soon as I'm through here, I'm going across the street to the courthouse to get an order forcing him to let us meet in a contact room."
Dupre pointed the receiver at Kate. "Is she your bodyguard?"
"No, Mr. Dupre. She's your investigator. Now, are you going to keep testing me or can we get down to work? I've got a number of questions I'd like to ask you. You're in a lot of trouble. You murdered a prominent attorney and you're looking at a very real possibility of a death sentence."
Dupre sprang to his feet, leaning against the ledge to maintain his balance. Even though there was a wall between them, Amanda pushed her chair back, stunned by Dupre's sudden rage.
"I didn't murder anyone and I don't need a DA's flunky for an attorney. Get the fuck out."
"Mr. Dupre," Amanda shouted into the phone. Dupre smashed the receiver against the glass, struggled to the rear wall, and slammed his manacled hands against the steel door. The door opened and the guard stepped back to let Dupre into the hall that led to his cell. Amanda sagged onto her chair.
"What an asshole," Kate said.
Amanda gathered her papers, her eyes still on the door through which her client had disappeared.
"What are you going to do now?" Kate asked as she opened the door into the hall.
"I'm going to give Dupre time to cool off while I get a court order from Robard. Then I'll set up a contact meeting and hope it goes a little better."
"Good luck."
"Meanwhile, you and I will draw up a game plan for the trial and the penalty phase."
Kate pressed the button for the elevator.
"We should spend most of our time on figuring out how to keep the jury from sentencing Dupre to death. I've read the police reports. I don't think that the guilt phase is going to take too long."
"That's negative thinking," Amanda answered with a tired smile. "We don't do that at Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi."
"Hey, I'm positive. I've even got a few theories of defense. Martians may have beamed powerful thought rays through the concrete walls, which forced Dupre to chop up Mr. Hayes, and the Sci Fi channel had this movie about demonic possession. I'll write for their research file."
The elevator took them down to the reception area of the jail. When the doors opened they could see a group of reporters milling around.
"Oh, shit," Amanda said. "Someone tipped them off."
The reporters shouted questions at Amanda as she walked through reception. She stopped in the lobby. The lights from one of the TV cameras blinded her for a moment, and she squinted.
"Are you representing Jon Dupre?" one reporter asked.
"Did you meet with him face-to-face?"
Amanda held up her hand and the questions stopped.
"Judge Robard asked me to represent Mr. Dupre and I've just come from a meeting with him . . . ."
"Were you frightened?" someone shouted.
"Did Dupre admit that he murdered Senator Travis?"
Amanda waited patiently until the reporters quieted down.
"Those of you who know me know that I believe that the proper place to resolve a matter of this seriousness is in a courtroom and not in the press. So, I won't be discussing the case with you and I certainly will not reveal any attorney-client communications."
Several reporters continued to ask questions. Amanda waited patiently for the shouting to subside.
"I'm not going to comment on this case in the press," Amanda repeated. "I'm sorry, but that's my position. Let's go, Kate."
Amanda and her investigator walked away from the reporters and through the main doors of the Justice Center just as Tim Kerrigan jogged up the stairs from the street. The prosecutor stared for a second as if trying to place her, then smiled when he did.
"Hey, Amanda, it's been a while."
"Two years, the Harrison case."
"In which you were a graceful winner, if I remember correctly."
"You know my investigator, Kate Ross? She used to be PPB."