Phillip Margolin - Fugitive

Amanda had gone to college in the Bay Area and law school in Manhattan, so she wasn’t totally ignorant of fashion, but the woman sitting across from the solitary setting was obviously an expert. She wore black Manolo Blahnik slingback pumps, black crepe pants, and a gray tweed Donna Karan belted jacket with black trim. A gold link necklace graced her neck, gold earrings dangled from her ears, and she told time on a Cartier tank watch. Next to her on an empty seat was a large black leather Prada hobo bag. Brice’s nails were manicured, her makeup was perfect, and her hair looked as if a stylist had just worked on it. No one would ever guess that she’d flown a redeye cross-country.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Jaffe,” Brice said.

“Nifty wheels,” Amanda answered as she completed her survey of the Gulfstream’s interior.

“I like it. Can I offer you orange juice, coffee?”

Amanda slid into the seat with the place setting. “Orange juice would be great, and I bet your chef can whip up a latte.”

“Single or double?” Brice asked as an amused smile creased her lips.

Amanda smiled back. “A double, please.”

Brice looked up at Jennifer Gates, who poured Amanda a glass of orange juice then walked to the back of the plane to place her order for a latte.

“Now that I’m suitably impressed, do you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Do the names Gabriel Sun or Charlie Marsh mean anything to you?”

“Satan’s Guru! Of course I know who he is. The trial of Sally Pope was my father’s biggest case.”

“Mr. Marsh is returning to Oregon to face the charge that he murdered Congressman Arnold Pope Jr. I would like you to represent him. You’ll be paid a five-hundred-thousand-dollar retainer. If the retainer is insufficient to cover your time, additional fees will be provided.”

Amanda had been given some large retainers, but nothing like this. It took all of her courtroom training to keep her excitement from showing.

“Why is World News willing to fund Gabriel Sun’s defense?” she asked.

“It’s not. Do you remember Mr. Marsh’s best-seller?”

“The Light Within You? Of course. I was in college when my father defended Sally Pope. I’ll bet every student at Berkeley read that book.”

“I’ve negotiated a contract with Charlie’s old publisher on his behalf for a new book; an autobiography that will take up where his first book left off. Charlie will tell all about the shooting at the Westmont Country Club, his flight to Africa, his life in Batanga, and his trial-the trial you will conduct.”

Brice leaned forward slightly and locked eyes with Amanda.

“There’s no question that Charlie’s new book will be a best-seller. Everyone in America will read it, and you will become the best-known criminal defense attorney in the country. Are you interested, Ms. Jaffe?”

Brice leaned back and let her pronouncement sink in.

“Of course I’m interested,” Amanda said just as Brice’s chef appeared with her pancakes. Jennifer Gates was following a few steps behind, carrying Amanda’s latte.

The Pope case had made her father’s reputation. The trial of Sally Pope and the continuing saga of Charlie Marsh’s flight to Africa had dominated the airwaves for more than a year. Amanda was already famous in Oregon-and she was known in professional circles outside of the state-but she would become a household name in every state in the Union if she defended Satan’s Guru.

“What’s your relationship to Charlie Marsh?” Amanda asked as she poured hot maple syrup over the stack.

“It’s strictly professional.”

“Then what are you getting out of this?” Amanda asked before taking her first bite.

“Exclusive access. He’s agreed to speak only to World News and to permit us to embed one of our reporters in your defense team during the trial.”

Amanda lowered her fork. “Whoa, wait a minute. What would this reporter be doing?”

“His name is Dennis Levy. He’s a very competent young man. I think you’ll like him.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Mrs. Brice. What do you envision Levy doing during the trial?”

“I envision him being a fly on the wall. He’ll be present in court, of course, but he’ll also sit in on strategy meetings, your conferences with Mr. Marsh, interviews with witnesses. Then he’ll also do one-on-one interviews with you and your team. We’ll have an edge on every other newspaper, magazine, and TV news program.”

“We may have a problem. I can’t have your reporter setting out my strategy in your magazine for everyone in the DA’s office to read.”

“Of course not. Dennis won’t do anything to compromise Mr. Marsh’s case.”

“And he’s not going to be able to sit in on my meetings with Mr. Marsh. He’s not an attorney so he’s not covered by the attorney-client privilege. If a third party is present during a conversation I have with Mr. Marsh, the privilege disappears. Your reporter could be called as a prosecution witness and be forced to testify about everything Mr. Marsh said to me in confidence.”

“What about his First Amendment protections as a member of the press?”

“I’m not an expert in this area, but I’m pretty certain the courts have held that the First Amendment doesn’t protect a reporter in these circumstances.”

“I’ll have my legal staff look into the question. Again, I’m not going to do anything that could hurt Mr. Marsh’s chances at an acquittal.”

“Mr. Levy would have to follow my instructions. I’m going to want to review his articles before they’re published to make sure nothing he writes will tip our hand or reveal a confidence.”

“I think we can work that out. So, are you on board?”

“I’m definitely interested, but I may have a conflict. You know that my father-Frank Jaffe-represented Sally Pope, Mr. Marsh’s codefendant?”

Brice nodded.

“As I said, I was in college when the trial was held, but we’re partners now and I have to make certain that no conflict exists.”

“Mrs. Pope was acquitted, wasn’t she?”

“The case was dismissed with prejudice, in the middle of the trial. The legal effect is the same.”

“So where’s the problem?”

“There may not be one, but I have to make certain. If there is none, I’ll definitely take the case. That is, if Mr. Marsh wants me as his lawyer. You understand that you won’t be my client, he will. If he wants me, I’m in.”

“Good.”

“Where is Mr. Marsh now?”

“En route to New York. He’ll stay in an apartment World News owns.”

“You’re not going to announce his return, are you? I don’t want the district attorney to know where he is. He’d have him arrested.”

“I have no intention of letting anyone know that Mr. Marsh is back in the States until you tell me it’s okay.”

“Good. The first thing I’ll do, as soon as I’m certain I can take the case, is to arrange Mr. Marsh’s voluntary surrender. This will give me time to set up a bail hearing. I don’t want him in jail while we’re preparing for trial if I can prevent it.”

Brice reached into her hobo bag and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to Amanda.

“This is your retainer and a list of phone numbers that will reach me. Let me know as soon as possible about the conflict problem.”

“I’ll want to speak to Mr. Marsh immediately, once I’m on board.”

“I’ll send the jet for you and you can meet in New York, if you’d like.”

Amanda ran her hand over the leather-upholstered seat. “I might just take you up on that if you throw in another free breakfast. These pancakes are delicious.”