David Rosenfelt - One Dog Night

“How do I get myself into these situations?”

Laurie and I are in bed; she’s reading, and I’m watching a Seinfeld rerun. I don’t actually have to “watch” Seinfeld, since once I hear a single sentence of any episode, it triggers my memory bank, and I know everything that is going to happen from that moment on. So this way I’m able to enjoy the show and obsess about life simultaneously.

Tara lies in the corner, on a large, puffy dog bed. She used to sleep in bed with us, but now prefers to be able to stretch out by herself.

“Which situation might that be?” Laurie asks.

“I have absolutely no desire to have a client, and I’d rather have a root canal without Novocain than take on a trial, much less a murder trial. So I accept a client for no reason at all-”

Laurie interrupts, pointing to Tara. “You did it as a favor to her.”

That doesn’t seem worthy of a response, so I don’t give her one. Instead, I continue. “But I catch a break. This client doesn’t want to go to trial; he wants to confess to anyone who will listen. So what do I do? I talk him out of pleading guilty, so that maybe we can have a trial.”

“Andy, you did the right thing. Now if you are finished beating yourself up, I’m trying to read this book.”

“How many words are in it?”

“How many words are in what? This book?”

“Yes, a publishing house wants Willie to write a book, but he’s afraid it’s going to take too many words.”

“God help us,” she says.

“Let’s get back to my situation,” I say. “Do I now have to investigate this thing?”

“You know you do.”

“Full scale, or a sweep-under-the-rug job?”

“Full scale,” she says.

“Will you help?”

“Now?”

“You know what I mean.” Laurie is an ex-cop, who when she’s not teaching college-level criminology, serves as my lead investigator. That’s obviously only when I have a client, but because I’m an idiot, I seem to have one now.

“Of course I will,” she says. “Now can I finish my book? I’ll count the words later; it might be distracting to do it as I read.”

“What are you reading?” I can’t tell, because she’s got one of those e-book readers.

“ War and Peace, by Willie Miller,” she says.

I want to get back to obsessing about Noah’s case, so I say, “I’ll call a meeting of the team for tomorrow morning. With any luck we can find out that Noah is guilty as hell by the end of the day.”

“Mmmm,” Laurie says, not really listening because she’s started reading again.

“You know, we’re at an impasse here,” I say.

“How is that?”

“Well, you’re reading, and I want to have a conversation.”

She puts the book device down. “That is quite an impasse. How about a third choice? We could make love.”

“Sex?” I ask, not quite believing what I just heard.

She nods. “I believe there will be some sex involved. Consider it a reward for doing the right thing and helping Noah and Becky Galloway.”

“I see injustice and I need to right the wrong. That’s just who I am.” I’m undressing as I talk, to cut down on the time Laurie has to change her mind. It doesn’t seem like she will, because she has her clothes off faster than I do.

“Here’s to winning the trial,” she says.

“Don’t kill the mood.”

It’s been a while since the team has assembled.

Not as long as I’d like, but right now I don’t seem to have a choice. Any slight hope I had of backing out ended with my acceptance of Laurie’s “reward” last night. Not only wouldn’t I have given it back, but my intention is to perform just as nobly in the future, so as to get more rewards.

Present at this meeting, in addition to Laurie, Hike, Edna, and myself are Sam Willis and Marcus Clark. Sam is my accountant, but that is not his role here, especially since our client can’t afford to pay us. He is here because of his talent as computer hacker supreme. If we need to find out anything at all about anything at all, Sam can find it, so long as it resides in some computer, somewhere. Which is good, because pretty much everything in recorded history is in some computer, somewhere. The fact that much of the information is illegally obtained is something that has never kept either Sam or I awake at night.

Marcus Clark is an outstanding investigator, and an even better bodyguard. To perform both functions, he takes full advantage of the fact that he is the scariest and toughest human being on the planet.

He hardly ever talks, and when he does Laurie is the only one who can understand what he is grunting. But occasionally he seems to listen, so the goal is not to say anything that might make him angry.

In fact, no one in Marcus’s presence wants to even look at him; it seems the safest way to stay alive. So everybody just acts nonchalant, as if no one is terrified. It’s as if Godzilla walked through the streets of Tokyo, and the citizens just sauntered along, whistling and chatting amiably, as if nothing was amiss.

I grab some coffee and come into the room. Hike is telling Sam how the world is soon to end from an asteroid strike. “There are more asteroids out there than we have grains of sand on our beaches,” he says. “We’re like in a shooting gallery.”

“We’re not getting hit,” Sam says. He is the optimistic opposite of Hike.

“That’s what the dinosaurs said. You see any of them on the bus coming in this morning?”

“So you’re saying we’re all going to die?”

Hike nods solemnly. “If not this week, then next. Law of averages.”

I call the meeting to order. “We’ve got a client,” I say. “His name is Noah Galloway. We haven’t received the discovery yet, but Edna will pass out copies of the information we have so far.”

Edna looks stunned. “I was supposed to make copies?”

I nod. “Now that you say so, that’s probably a good way to do it. That way we’ll each have our own.”

She stands, folder in hand, and makes the trudge to the copy room. When she’s finished, we are going to have one exhausted Edna on our hands.

I give them the basic outline, which they can supplement by reading the documents, should Edna succeed in copying them. Then I lay out the individual assignments.

“Hike and I will go through the discovery, which I’m told we’ll have by close of business today. Sam, you should focus on digging up all available information on the fire, the victims, and Danny Butler.”

He seems disappointed. “That’s it? Did I mention I got a gun permit?”

“Yes, I believe you did. And if we need to shoot anyone, you’re our man.” Sam feels inhibited by being assigned only computer work; he wants to be out on the street gunning down bad guys.

“Laurie, you’ll be in charge of the investigation itself, and Marcus will work with you.” I briefly look over at Marcus to see if he has any reaction, but he doesn’t. He likes Laurie, so I use her as a buffer whenever I can.

Edna comes back into the room and announces, with obvious relief in her voice, that the copier is out of toner. I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to rectify that technical a problem, so Sam says he’ll reload it when the meeting is over.

“We don’t have a lot of time on this,” I say, trying to get things back on track. “If it goes on too long, our client is going to preempt us and plead guilty.”

“Is he guilty?” Sam asks.

“He thinks so, but I’m not so sure.” I take a few minutes to explain my doubts. “If we find out he’s right, he pleads guilty and we ride out of town.”

The phone rings, and everybody looks at Edna, waiting for her to answer it. By the third ring, she gets the idea and reluctantly picks it up. After a brief hello, she holds the phone toward me. “It’s Pete Stanton.”