Lisa Scottoline - Dirty Blonde

“You’re a woman.” George shrugged. “There was no reason to. He didn’t invite that sort of friendship, nor did I. I didn’t waste his time, and he didn’t waste mine. We shook, we congratulated each other, he said ‘Send me a bill,’ and I said I would.”

Boy intimacy. “You let him get a cab?”

“No, he said he had a car coming. He just excused himself and went out at six, as he’d said he would.” George’s light eyes clouded, a flicker of regret. “I wish I’d gone with him now, of course. I don’t know if he would have been killed if a witness had been there.”

“Or you could have been killed with him. After all, if the killer was Marz, presumably he’d have the same grievance against both of you.”

“Evidently he didn’t, and even the most aggrieved plaintiff distinguishes between lawyer and client.”

“Not really.” Cate considered it. “In fact, it makes me wonder why, if it were Marz, he didn’t go into the restaurant to shoot you, too. He had to know you were there. Either he’d guess it or he followed you.”

“I have no idea.”

“It couldn’t be because it would increase the risk of getting caught. Why worry about getting caught, if you’re going to commit suicide, anyway?”

“I’m sure the police asked these questions.”

Cate made a mental note. “Did Simone have any enemies besides Marz, that you know of?”

“Art Simone was an enormously successful Hollywood television producer. What do you think?” George smiled, but Cate didn’t.

“Did he mention anyone specifically?”

“No.”

“Ever hear him in an argument with anyone?”

“No.”

“Do you know anything about his marriage?”

“Now wait a minute-”

“This is important. People are trying to run me over. I’m entitled to ask a few questions of my own.”

“The police asked me all this.”

“It’s the police who tried to run me over,” Cate shot back, and George paused.

“I think his marriage was fine. We never discussed it.”

“Kids?”

“One, in France, studying art.”

“Okay, back to that night. Please, finish the story.”

“Then almost as soon as Art went outside, we heard a loud shot. The sound was unmistakable, a gunshot.” George shuddered visibly. “We got up from the table, and the staff at the restaurant went running for the door, and there he was lying on the pavement.” George wrinkled his nose. “It was really quite awful.”

“Did somebody call 911?”

“Courtney did. I bent down to do CPR.” George couldn’t clear the disgust from his expression. “It was obvious he was dead. The bullet was point-blank in the forehead. Even in the dark, I could see that.”

“Did you go to the funeral?”

“Yes, I flew in and out. It was very sad. His wife, bereft.”

“Who invited you?”

“Erika called me personally. Lovely woman.”

“Yes, I saw her on TV. Was Micah invited?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t see her there.”

“Was your associate invited?”

“Yes, but she had to work. We have another case going to trial next week and she had to draft some pretrial motions.”

Cate thought back to her confrontation with Micah. It seemed like so long ago, in the Attorneys@ Law office. “ Erika wants to keep it small, so it’s only immediate family. ”

“What about the jury consultant with the red hair?”

“Courtney Flavert? What about her?”

“Was she invited?”

“Yes.”

So Micah had been excluded. Why? “She went?”

“Yes.”

“Did you fly out together?”

“Yes.” George looked away and reached for his coffee, taking two long sips and replacing the cup with a tiny clink . “Now, can we change the subject? This is so morbid. Why did you call me?”

“Wait, I’m just curious, was it a big funeral? Did you see any celebrities?”

George brightened. “It was huge, I would say three hundred people, and all the actors from the show, plus the cast of The Sopranos , and Law amp; Order , too. It was a real treat. I got Dennis Farina’s autograph. The man reeks of credibility. He was a real detective, did you know that? Before he became an actor? He was great in Crime Story . Remember Crime Story ?” George seemed to get happier, merely thinking of Dennis Farina. “Now, so, what is the representation you came to see me about?”

Cate had gotten all the information he could give her, so she switched gears. “I need you to go to war for me.”

“I’d be honored to represent you.” George smiled. “I did run a conflicts check and we’re not conflicted out. We represent the Inquirer , but we don’t represent the Daily News . Though they’re owned by the same entity, they divide their legal work among all the top-tier firms.”

“No, I’m not suing a newspaper. It’s not a defamation matter. All of what they printed about me is true.”

“Oh.” George’s eyebrows flew upwards, but at least he didn’t point and laugh.

“As you probably read, the chief judge has effectively relieved me of duty, and I don’t think he has the power to do that. It’s a constitutional question, probably of first impression. Let me frame the issue for you-does the active sex life of an unmarried federal judge qualify as impeachable conduct within the meaning of Article III of the U.S. Constitution?” Cate reconsidered. “Okay, to be fair, you probably have to include that some of my…paramours had criminal records.”

“You want me to sue the chief judge of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania?”

“And the circuit executive, and the clerk of court.” Cate thought a minute. “And the chief judge of the Third Circuit, on a respondeat superior theory, since he’s essentially the administrative boss.”

George reddened.

“I want my job back.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Why not? Are you man or mouse?”

“Judge.” George shifted in his comfy chair. “You have to understand.”

“How can I?” Cate asked, angering. “You haven’t explained it.”

“I’ve headed this trial group for seven years. My partners are in front of that bench and those judges, all day long. Furthermore, I’m managing partner now. I represent three hundred and twenty-one lawyers, in this office alone.”

“Good. I need a big gun, that’s why I’m here. It’s a cutting-edge legal question. It could go up to the Supremes. Let’s make some law.”

George shook his head. “I can’t afford the retaliation factor. If I litigate against the chief judge, it’s career suicide.”

“Or it’s protecting my right to my job.”

“I can’t do it.” George sighed heavily and smoothed down his tie. “No big firm could, and none would. You can’t fault me.”

“So you’re a mouse.” Cate rose to her feet, not completely surprised, and walked the few steps to the door. “You’ll beat up on a kid like Marz, but you won’t take on a chief judge.”

George rose, too, spreading open palms. “That’s just reality, Judge.”

“I thought you represented the legal principle.”

“But this is different.”

Cate turned on the threshold. “How?”

George blinked.

“Thought so,” Cate said, and left. She was already feeling more herself, thinking of where to go next. Because as much as she missed her job, she had realized something she could never have known before she got fired, however unconstitutionally.

You don’t need a robe to do justice.

Odd . Despite the cold, the front door with the stenciled number 388 stood propped wide open with a brick, and Cate slipped through and climbed the stairs, almost banging into Micah as she descended, carrying a huge cardboard box that held papers and files, a chrome gooseneck desk lamp, and her white iBook.