William Bernhardt - Hate Crime

Manny twisted his arm around, trying unsuccessfully to get free. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ve outlived your usefulness. You’ve become a risk. An unacceptable one.”

“Hey-whoa now-wait a minute! Let’s talk about this.”

“We’ve talked long enough.”

“If you think you can cut me out now, after I-”

All at once, Manny felt the wind literally choked out of his throat. His visitor had pushed him backward, sprawled across the workbench, then pinned his neck down. The grip on his throat was even tighter than the vise.

“Just-wait!” he managed to choke out. “Let’s… talk about this! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Erasing those unpleasant memories.” With his free hand, the visitor picked up the electric drill-and turned it on.

Beads of sweat broke out on Manny’s forehead. He thrashed back and forth, but was unable to move. “What the hell are you going to do with that?”

“A little surgical procedure, I think.” The visitor smiled. “Amateur lobotomy.”

“You must be kiddin’! You can’t-”

“I’m afraid I can.” The sound of the whirring drill in Manny’s ear was deafening-and terrifying. Slowly, the bit approached Manny’s temple. “Here’s the best part, though. I won’t send you a bill. You won’t have to worry about whether your medical insurance will cover it.”

“Look! I’m sorry! I was just-I don’t know-I just-” Manny thrashed frantically, but he was unable to get free. “Forget everything I said!”

“I wish I could. But it’s you who will know the bliss of forgetfulness.” The visitor pressed the tip of the drill against his skull. “Good night, Manny. Pleasant dreams.”

“Come on. Come clean.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Christina, I insist on knowing what’s going on.”

“If I had anything to tell you, Jones, I would already have done so.”

Jones leaned over his desk in the front lobby of Kincaid & McCall. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Christina.”

“You’re imagining it.”

“Baloney. I saw the two of you, stuttering and coughing and getting all flush-faced. What’s the big secret?”

“There’s no secret.”

“Then why did you see Ben last night?”

“We told you already. We had a… thing.”

“There was no Inns of Court meeting. I checked.”

“It was… that other thing.”

“You two have been seeing a lot of each other.”

“What else is new? We’ve worked together since he opened this office.”

“Don’t give me that. This is something different.”

“Honestly, Jones, I don’t have time for this nonsense. Shouldn’t you be dunning debtors or something? Because I-”

“You’re dating, aren’t you?”

Christina froze. It took her more than a moment to recover. “Now you really are being ridiculous.”

He threw down his pencil. “I knew it! I told Paula last night, ‘Something weird is going down between those two.’ ”

“Jones, you’re being silly-”

“How long?”

Christina took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “About three months.”

“I knew it!” He pushed away from his desk. “And when were you planning to tell us?”

Her eyes moved skyward. “When there was something to tell?”

“Did you think this doesn’t concern me?”

“Well, frankly-”

“The two lawyers in the office start getting all snoochy-gooches with each other? It’s a recipe for disaster!”

“I think you’re exaggerating-”

“How can I effectively administrate this office when you two are behaving like this? How do I know what’s going on when you both stay in the office late working? Maybe you’re prepping for trial, or maybe you’re examining each other’s briefs.”

“Jones!”

“And what happens if you split up? What if you do a ‘hell hath no fury’ turn? Who has to leave the office? Who gets custody of Loving?”

“Jones! Calm down!” She checked the hallway outside Ben’s office. His door was closed. “It’s not that big a deal. I promise you.”

“How can it not be that big a deal?”

“It’s just… not… anything that…” She waved her hands in the air. “… because… nothing happens.”

He paused. “Nothing?”

She shrugged. “Not so’s you’d notice.”

“Then what were you-”

“We played Scrabble.”

He blinked. “You…”

“You heard me. That’s all we ever do.”

“But-” He ran his hand through his hair. “You were apologizing for last night.”

“I laid a phony blank on him. Turned a U tile over and played it as a blank. Bingoed for fifty bonus points. Sneaky, I know, but the rules permit it, and I was behind, and… I hate to lose.”

Jones stared at her. “So this big romance-”

“Scrabble.”

“And there’s been no-” He tilted his head back and forth.

“None.”

“Not even-”

“Not even a good-night kiss, if you must know.”

“How can you tell you’re dating?”

She frowned. “I’m optimistic.”

A few minutes later, the lobby doors opened, and a tall, attractive woman who appeared to be in her thirties entered. Christina was certain she’d seen the woman before, although she couldn’t immediately place her.

The woman hesitated just outside Jones’s desk. “Excuse me. Is this the law office of Ben Kincaid?”

Christina rose to her feet. “Yes. This is Kincaid and McCall.”

“Wonderful.” She clutched her purse with both hands. She seemed anxious about something. “I’m Ellen Christensen.”

“That’s it,” Christina said. “I’ve seen you in the courtroom. I was watching on the television when… well…”

“Yes. Of course.”

“That must have been terrifying.”

“It was,” she said, but Christina thought she seemed remarkably well composed.

“How is your son?”

“He’s recovering. It’s a trauma, seeing your best friend shot just inches away from you. Not that the press has shown him the least bit of sympathy.”

“No,” Christina said. “I suppose not.”

“I just thank God my Johnny wasn’t killed.” She was a thin woman, but her assured carriage gave her a bearing that exceeded her physical girth. She was actually much more attractive than she had appeared on television; her well-defined features had been blurred by the camera. “He’s the one that psychopath from the gay rights group wanted, you know. Kevin Mahoney just got in the way.”

Jones cleared his throat. “What brings you all the way from Chicago, ma’am? Is there some way we can help you?”

“I’m sure you’ve guessed why I’m here. Kevin Mahoney is stable, but he can’t possibly try a case in his current condition, and the court insists on plowing ahead with this travesty. All the newscasters and politicians are bearing down, of course. Demanding swift justice. Meaning a hanging, the sooner the better.”

Christina tried to steer her back on track. “So you’re here…”

“To ask Ben Kincaid to be Kevin’s replacement.”

She stared at the woman, blank-faced. “You want Ben to take over your son’s defense?”

“Yes, I do.” She seemed confused. “Is there a problem? I’ve heard he’s one of the top defense attorneys.” She paused. “Which doesn’t surpise me.”

“No, no-there’s no problem. You heard right.”

“I know he doesn’t normally work in Chicago-”

“That’s not a problem. We can ally with a local lawyer. Get admitted to the Illinois bar pro hac vice .”

“I only hope he can fit it into his schedule.”