Parnell Hall - The Anonymous Client

“No, no. Really.”

“’Cause I value your opinion,” Judy said. “I mean, you were an actor, you’ve always given me good advice about auditions and-Say! Nice mail.”

Steve looked down at the letter that was still lying on his desk. In spite of himself, he started giggling.

Judy stared at him. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head, but he couldn’t stop giggling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just too funny. I have a secretary out there giving me the cold shoulder because of this envelope. This envelope happens to contain a bit of evidence that I mailed to myself because I don’t want the cops to get their hands on it. I can’t tell her because I don’t want her to know about it. The cops have grilled her once about my business, and they may grill her again. That’s for starters. What she thinks of you, I wouldn’t even want to imagine.”

Judy cocked an eyebrow at him. “Whatever have you done to make the poor girl so possessive?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

Judy nodded. “Ah, the old indifferent act. Good move. Gets them every time.”

“Yeah.”

Judy looked at him. “You’re really in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m bantering with you, and you’re not bantering back. In fact, you just told me about your secretary giving you a hard time, which is totally out of character for you, and not something you’d ordinarily tell me. Which means you’re so preoccupied with something you can’t think of anything to say other than the simple truth. So what’s wrong?”

Steve sighed. “Yesterday I testified before the grand jury. I’m holding out evidence in a murder case. The D.A. knows it, and if he can prove it he’s going to try to get me disbarred.”

Judy looked at him. “Oh. Good. I thought it was something serious.”

Steve shot her a look.

“Sorry,” Judy said. “I can’t help myself. Here, let me make your day.” She reached down the front of her dress and pulled out a piece of paper. “Ta da!”

“You got it.”

“Damn right, I got it. Is this it?”

Steve unfolded the paper. Smiled. “That’s it, all right.”

“Great. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“The main thing is to forget you ever saw this.”

“Consider it done. Are you sure you can’t tell me what this is all about?”

“Not unless you’d like to risk going to jail as an accessory to murder.”

“Not today, thanks.”

The intercom buzzed.

“Ah,” Judy said. “That will be Miss Warmth, telling me my time is up.”

Steve grimaced, picked up the phone. “Yes?”

“A Mr. Fitzpatrick to see you.”

“Tell him I’ll be right with him.”

“A client?” Judy asked.

“A lawyer.”

“Sounds like my exit cue. Don’t worry. I’m in your corner all the way and my lips are sealed.”

Steve opened the door for her and smiled. Judy could be a pain in the ass in a lot of ways, but in a lot of others she was a brick.

Steve had just had time to have that charitable thought, when Judy stopped halfway through the outer office, turned back and said-largely for Tracy’s benefit, he was sure, “Do call me about dinner.”

Steve sighed, turned, gestured to his inner office, and said, “Mr. Fitzpatrick?”

Fitzpatrick’s manner was certainly different from when Steve had encountered him at the Harding mansion. The chubby face that had been so flushed and angry looked practically congenial.

He wasted no time with any amenities, however. The minute the door was closed he turned on Winslow and said, “You testified before the grand jury yesterday.”

“That’s right.”

“I read the transcript. You didn’t tell ’em much.”

“No.”

“Among the things you didn’t tell them was the substance of your conversation with my client.”

Steve said nothing.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Do you care to comment?”

“Not really. You came to me, Fitzpatrick. You’re going to have to carry the ball.”

“I’d like to know what you discussed with my client.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“I’m asking you.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve said. “From which I gather your client hasn’t told you.”

“You can gather what you like. I’m asking you a question.”

“Client clammed up on you, eh?”

Fitzpatrick frowned. “My client is reticent upon certain matters. I’m wondering how much of that reticence I owe to you.”

“I’m sure I couldn’t tell you.”

“Interesting thing about the transcript of your testimony.”

“Oh?”

“Dirkson kept asking you if you’d ever been Marilyn’s attorney. Your response in every instance was qualified with the phrase, ‘to the best of my knowledge.’”

“Naturally. Any response I’m going to give can only be to the best of my knowledge.”

“Exactly. That phrase could apply to the answer to any question. Which is why there’s no reason to say it. And yet in every answer you made regarding whether or not Marilyn had ever employed you, you were careful to include that phrase.”

“If you say so. I haven’t read the transcript.”

“But you gave the testimony. And you knew what you were doing.”

“Thank you for your assessment of my testimony. Now look, Fitzpatrick, it’s real nice swapping words with you and all that, but would you mind telling me why you’re here?”

“I thought we might discuss the case. It occurs to me we might have similar interests. We might be able to help each other.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Look. I don’t know what your connection is to my client, but you obviously have some interest in this case. And I have an interest in this case. Those interests are probably similar.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, I do. Now let’s get down to brass tacks. I got a problem, and a big one. Confidentially, the case against my client is pretty bad. And she’s not helping me any. And you obviously know something about her situation. And you know what you and she discussed. If you can give me some information to make her open up and level with me, well, we might just crack this thing.”

Steve looked at him. “What sort of information did you have in mind?”

“Anything to crack her shell and start her talking. The fact that she knew she was in trouble before the Bradshaw business happened. Just the fact that she made overtures to you would be enough. Just so I get her talking and can find out what this is all about. And if I had some inkling of what it was, I might learn something that would benefit you, and then I’d be in a position to reciprocate.”

Steve considered that a moment. He smiled. “Bullshit,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?”

Steve shook his head. “Bullshit. Here you are in the spirit of friendship and cooperation. Mutual interests, indeed. You’ve just come from the District Attorney’s office, haven’t you?”

Fitzpatrick looked somewhat taken aback. “Well, I-”

“Sure you have. Now I’ll tell you what’s going on here. Yesterday I testified before the grand jury. I didn’t give ’em squat, but what I did give ’em, they don’t like. Dirkson’s pissed off and he’s ready to throw the book at me at any given opportunity. And now you come here in the spirit of cooperation. And what do you want to know? If your client ever consulted me. And why? Because I told the grand jury she didn’t. Which means if you can just get me to admit she did, that’s all Dirkson needs. He’ll get me for perjury and obstructing justice, and he’ll have me disbarred. He’s so eager to get me, I bet he offered to let Marilyn cop a manslaughter plea if you could trap me into an admission. That’s what you were talking to Dirkson about, and that’s why you’re here.”