Robert Whitlow - Deeper Water

I went upstairs to Gerry Patrick's office. The firm administrator's door was open. She was on the phone but motioned me to come inside. I stood in front of her desk and waited until she finished the call.

"How can I help you?" she asked.

"You'd mentioned the possibility of a cubicle where I could work. Is that still available?"

"Did you and Julie have another problem?" Ms. Patrick asked with an edge to her voice.

The fact that the previous day's incident was common knowledge in the hierarchy of the firm worried me, but I knew interoffice communication only required a few computer keystrokes and the click of a mouse.

"No ma'am. Each of us met with Mr. Carpenter, and our relationship is better than ever. But I need to do some research without any distractions. Julie and I work well together, but we still take a few minutes here and there to talk."

"What are you working on that requires that level of privacy? Julie is also an employee of the law firm."

It was an insightful question that rendered me temporarily speechless.

"You're right," I said after an awkward pause. "There's no good reason for me to set up in a second workstation."

Ms. Patrick looked down at her desk. "Good. Have a nice day."

I MADE COPIES of all the newspaper articles and put them in a separate folder. I had no option but to talk to Zach. His door was closed. I knocked lightly and opened it a crack before he answered. He was staring at his computer screen and tugging on his ponytail.

"Hey," he said. "Did you get the dates for the trial calendars?"

"Not yet, but I will. Do you have a few minutes?"

"Yeah."

I sat down next to the now familiar picture of Zach's sister. "Do you promise not to get upset at me if I ask for some advice?"

Zach gave me a puzzled look. "Have I been that hard to work with? My only goal is to help you mature as a lawyer as quickly as possible. The best way for that to happen isn't to coddle you, but to challenge you and keep you focused."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No. I've told my parents all about you."

"What did you say?" I asked in surprise.

"The truth as best I know it." Zach smiled. "They know how unusual it is to meet a woman with your faith and convictions. I'd like to meet your family."

"Really?"

"Of course. How can we make that happen?"

"I'm still working on it," I answered, perplexed. "But this case is all I can think about right now. I need your help. How can someone access the firm microfilm records?"

"Through Gerry Patrick. She has a key to the storage facility. It's on Abercorn Road near the mall."

"Would you mind asking her? Ms. Patrick doesn't like me."

"Why?"

"For some of the same reasons you think I'm a woman of faith and conviction. We've had misunderstandings that make her suspicious of anything I say."

It was Zach's turn to give me a puzzled look. "That makes no sense. Just tell her the name of the case, and the supervising attorney. She shouldn't give you any problem."

I grimaced. "You're the supervising attorney. It has to do with State v. Jones."

Zach sat up straighter in his chair. "Start talking."

Thirty minutes later, I finished. Zach read a couple of the articles while I nervously fidgeted in my chair.

"Is that all?" he asked, looking up from the newspaper clippings.

"Pretty much. I don't think I left out any important details."

"And Mr. Carpenter isn't aware of your suspicions?"

"I don't think so."

"He's a smart man."

"I know."

"Do the partners know Vince is helping you?"

"No. I think he worked after hours."

Zach frowned. "Have you thought this through to its logical conclusion?"

"What do you mean?"

"We've had this discussion before-Moses, a man named Floyd Carpenter, the shiny dollar, and Lisa Prescott's body in the Ogeechee River. What changed?"

"Additional information makes it seem more plausible."

"Which still doesn't address the ultimate issue. What is the significance of solving a missing person case after everyone except our client is dead? Lisa was an only child, and her parents are deceased, right?"

"Yes."

"And Floyd Carpenter is dead?"

"Yes."

"Which leaves Moses, an old man, alive." Zach spoke with emphasis, "And our client."

"But the truth needs to be known."

Zach picked up a pen and twirled it around with his fingers. I steeled myself, determined not to back down.

"What are you going to do if you search the firm archives and find out that Floyd Carpenter consulted with Mr. Braddock or his father about the disappearance of the Prescott girl? What if there are incriminating notes, even a written confession? What if Moses Jones is mentioned by name as an accessory or principal in the commission of a crime? Are you going to violate your ethical duty and turn the information over to Maggie Smith? Would you run to the newspaper and humiliate the Carpenter family in a massive expose? What would be helped by that except a reporter's career? If you contact the newspaper, make sure you suggest a headline that includes the verse about the sins of the fathers being visited on their children to the fourth generation."

With each question, my resolve weakened. "But don't you want to know what happened to Lisa?"

"Of course I'm curious. But a lawyer has to consider the consequences. It's a boring analogy, but I leave out favorable contract provisions if I think they might trigger a response from the other side that could cause greater harm to my client's primary interests. Your decision is much more important because of the impact on Moses' freedom."

Zach's last comment gave me an idea. "If Moses isn't guilty and can shed light on what really happened to Lisa Prescott, it could help his trespassing case."

I could tell from the look on Zach's face that for once, I'd brought out a point he hadn't considered.

"That's far-fetched," he said.

"It would enable the police and district attorney's office to solve a crime and close a file even if it's decades too late to bring someone to justice."

Zach still looked skeptical.

"And I'm not ignoring all the good points you made about not humiliating Mr. Carpenter and his family, but I can't get away from the belief that I'm supposed to dig as far to the bottom of this as I can. I need to get over pretending to be a crusader and go forward only to the extent I should as a lawyer-"

"Law student."

"Who is acting in a professional, ethical manner. I'm working at the firm with at least a small hope of landing a job after graduation. Throwing that away for no reason would be stupid. I don't want newspaper publicity for myself and don't want to hurt someone else's reputation. I've been persecuted enough to know how it feels."

"But once you release information, you can't control where it goes. We should try to lessen interest in Moses so he can slip back into the river marsh and live out his life in peace, not make him an unwilling celebrity."

"That sounds nice," I said, "but you're wrong. Moses Jones is not at peace."

"And you're not his pastor." Zach glanced at his watch. "Look, I have a meeting with Mr. Appleby and a client in five minutes. Do you still want the key to the storage facility?"

"Yes."

"I'll okay it, but tell me what you find out. I can't escape the responsibility that will fall on me if you get out of line."

I'd not considered the possible risk to Zach's job.

"Yes. And I've listened to what you said."

Zach leaned forward and spoke with intensity. "But have you heard?"

I bit my lower lip and nodded.

Zach left to get the key from Gerry Patrick. In at least one way, this morning's conversation had been a success. I'd avoided an emotional meltdown when Zach Mays challenged me. Returning, he handed me the key.