John Grisham - The Whistler

Lacy wore black slacks and flat shoes. She could walk without a limp but her left knee was still swollen. She also wore a beige blouse and a silk Hermès scarf on her head. She had debated whether to walk into the meeting with no hat, no scarf, nothing to hide her shaved scalp and jagged cut with the suture indentions still fresh. On the one hand, she wanted Claudia McDover to see the damage, to be forced to stare at a living, breathing casualty of her corruption. But on the other hand, Lacy’s vanity said cover it up.

They climbed the stairs to the third floor and found the office of the Honorable Claudia F. McDover, Circuit Court Judge, Twenty-Fourth Judicial District. Inside, a receptionist greeted them without a smile. Michael said, “I’m Mr. Geismar and I believe I spoke with you on the phone. We have an appointment with the judge at 5:00 p.m.”

“I’ll tell her.”

Five o’clock came and went. At 5:15, the receptionist opened the door and said, “Judge McDover.” They walked into her office and she greeted them with a smile that was plainly forced. Lacy avoided shaking her hand. In a corner of the large room, two men rose from a conference table and introduced themselves as Judge McDover’s lawyers. Their presence was not a surprise. Michael had called the day before to arrange the meeting; thus, Judge McDover had twenty-four hours to begin lawyering up.

The older guy was Edgar Killebrew, an infamous white-collar defense lawyer from Pensacola. He was tall and thick and sharply dressed in navy pinstripes, and his thinning gray hair was slicked back and fell beneath his collar. By reputation he was loud and flamboyant, and intimidating because he was always ready for a fight and seldom lost before juries. His associate was Ian Archer, an unsmiling sort who refused to shake hands with anyone and reeked of surliness.

Awkwardly, they settled around the conference table. Judge McDover sat on one side with a lawyer at each elbow. Michael faced her, with Lacy and Justin at his sides. Small talk was useless. Who cared about the weather?

Michael began, “A formal complaint was filed against Judge McDover forty-five days ago. We’ve done the assessment, and as you know our initial threshold is not very high. If it appears that the complaint may have merit, then we pass it along to the judge. That’s why we’re here today.”

“We understand this,” Killebrew said sharply.

Lacy stared at McDover and wondered if it was all true. The years of payoffs in return for favorable decisions; the outright stealing from the Tappacola; the murder of Hugo Hatch; the private jets and unlimited cash and homes around the world; the wrongful conviction of Junior Mace. No, actually, at that moment it did not seem possible that this attractive woman, an elected judge from a small town, could be involved in such ugly and far-reaching crimes. And what did McDover see when she looked at Lacy? The scarf hiding the wounds? A lucky girl who could have died? A nuisance to be dealt with later? A threat? Whatever the judge was thinking, she revealed nothing. Her face was all business, as unpleasant as it was.

The beauty of Lacy’s strategy was that at that moment McDover had no idea what the mole had already told them. No idea they had an inkling of the cash, jets, homes, all the goodies. She was about to realize that her four condos had raised suspicions, but that was all.

“Could we see the complaint?” Killebrew asked.

Michael slid across the original and three copies. McDover, Killebrew, and Archer grabbed them and began reading. But they were careful not to react. If the judge was shocked, she hid her surprise well. Nothing. No anger. No disbelief. Nothing but a cool, dispassionate reading of accusations. Her lawyers read the complaint and managed to convey a smug indifference. Archer made a few notes on a legal pad. The minutes ticked by. The tension was thick, palpable.

Finally, McDover said, without a trace of emotion, “This is absurd.”

“Who is Greg Myers?” Killebrew said coolly.

“We’re not going to reveal his identity at this time,” Michael replied.

“Well, we’ll find out, won’t we? I mean, this is defamatory as hell and we’ll sue him immediately for a ton of cash. He can’t hide.”

Michael shrugged and said, “Sue who you gotta sue. That’s none of our business.”

Archer asked, with an obnoxious nasal tone that indicated he was far more intelligent than anyone else in the room, “During the assessment, what did you learn that indicated these allegations have merit?”

“We’re not required to divulge that at this time. As I’m sure you know, from a careful review of the statutes, Judge McDover has thirty days to respond in writing. During that period, we will continue to investigate. Once we receive your response, we will respond to it.”

“I got a response for you right now,” Killebrew growled. “This is defamatory, libelous, and a complete crock of shit. It’s all lies. The Board on Judicial Conduct should be investigated for taking this rubbish seriously and defiling the name of one of the highest-rated judges in the State of Florida.”

“You gonna sue us too?” Lacy asked coolly and knocked him off stride. Killebrew glared at her but did not take the bait.

“I’m concerned about confidentiality,” Judge McDover said. “I’m not worried about these allegations, because they are groundless and we’ll prove that in short order. But I have a reputation to protect. This is the first complaint filed against me after seventeen years on the bench.”

“Which proves nothing,” Lacy said, itching for a little skirmish.

“Correct, Ms. Stoltz, but I want assurances that this matter will be kept quiet.”

Michael replied, “We are quite aware of the need for secrecy, that we are dealing with reputations, and for this we closely follow the statute that makes our investigations confidential.”

“But you’ll be talking to potential witnesses,” Killebrew said. “And word gets around. I know how these investigations go. They can become witch hunts where the gossip flies and people get hurt.”

“People have already been hurt,” Lacy said as she glared, unblinking, at Judge McDover, who returned the stare as if she could not have cared less.

For a moment there was no air to breathe. Michael finally moved on with “We handle these investigations every day, Mr. Killebrew. I assure you we know how to keep things quiet. Oftentimes, though, the chatter seems to come from the other side.”

“Nice try, sir, but there will be no chatter from us,” Killebrew said. “We’ll file a motion to dismiss as soon as practical and get this crap thrown out.”

Michael replied, “I’ve been with the BJC for almost thirty years and I have yet to see a case in which the Board dismissed the complaint before the responses were filed. But go ahead and try.”

“That’s great, Mr. Geismar, and in your years of vast experience how often do you serve complaints in which the identity of the complaining party is not revealed?”

“His name is Greg Myers. Right there on the front page.”

“Thank you. But who is Mr. Greg Myers, and where does he live? There is no address, no contact information, nothing.”

“It would be inappropriate for you to contact Mr. Myers.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to contact him. We just want to know who he is and why he is accusing my client of something that amounts to bribery. That’s all.”

“To be discussed later,” Michael said.

“Anything else?” McDover asked. The judge was in charge and ready to adjourn.

“No, not from us,” Michael replied. “We will await your response in thirty days, if not sooner.”

Without a handshake and with hardly a nod, they stood and left the room. Nothing was said as they walked to the car and drove away. As the town faded behind them, Michael finally said, “Okay, let’s hear it.”