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There was something about the case that disturbed Adam. Jennifer Parker's defense was too flimsy. If she were working for Moretti, he would have protected her with a reasonably plausible story. As it was, her story was so transparently naive that it had a ring of truth about it.
At noon Adam received a call from the District Attorney. "How goes it, Adam?"
"Fine, Robert."
"I understand you're handling the hatchet-man job on the Jennifer Parker matter."
Adam Warner winced at the phrase. "I've agreed to make a recommendation, yes."
"I'm going to put her away for a long time." Adam was taken aback by the hatred in the District Attorney's voice.
"Easy, Robert. She's not disbarred yet."
Di Silva chuckled. "I'll leave that to you, my friend." His tone changed. "I hear on the grapevine that you may be moving to Washington soon. I want you to know that you can count on my full support."
Which was considerable, Adam Warner knew. The District Attorney had been around a long time. He knew where the bodies were buried and he knew how to squeeze the most out of that information.
"Thanks, Robert. I appreciate that."
"My pleasure, Adam. I'll wait to hear from you."
Meaning Jennifer Parker. The quid pro quo Stewart Needham had mentioned, with the girl used as a p.a.w.n. Adam Warner thought about Robert Di Silva's words: I'm going to put her away for a long time. I'm going to put her away for a long time. From reading the transcript, Adam judged that there was no real evidence against Jennifer Parker. Unless she confessed, or unless someone came forward with information that proved criminal complicity, Di Silva would not be able to touch the girl. He was counting on Adam to give him his vengeance. From reading the transcript, Adam judged that there was no real evidence against Jennifer Parker. Unless she confessed, or unless someone came forward with information that proved criminal complicity, Di Silva would not be able to touch the girl. He was counting on Adam to give him his vengeance.
The cold, harsh words of the transcript were clear-cut, and yet Adam wished he could have heard the tone of Jennifer Parker's voice when she denied her guilt.
There were pressing matters claiming Adam's attention, important cases involving major clients. It would have been easy to go ahead and carry out the wishes of Stewart Needham, Judge Lawrence Waldman and Robert Di Silva, but some instinct made Adam Warner hesitate. He picked up Jennifer Parker's file again, scribbled some notes and began to make some long-distance telephone calls.
Adam had been given a responsibility and he intended to carry it through to the best of his ability. He was all too familiar with the long, back-breaking hours of study and hard work it took to become an attorney and to pa.s.s the bar. It was a prize that took years to attain, and he was not about to deprive someone of it unless he was cerain there was justification.
The following morning Adam Warner was on a plane to Seattle, Washington. He had meetings with Jennifer Parker's law professors, with the head of a law firm where she had clerked for two summers, and with some of Jennifer's former cla.s.smates.
Stewart Needham telephoned Adam in Seattle. "What are you doing up there, Adam? You've got a big case load waiting for you back here. That Parker thing should have been a snap."
"A few questions have arisen," Adam said carefully. "I'll be back in a day or so, Stewart."
There was a pause. "I see. Let's not waste any more time on her than we have to."
By the time Adam Warner left Seattle, he felt he knew Jennifer Parker almost as well as she knew herself. He had built up a portrait of her in his mind, a mental identikit, with pieces filled in by her law professors, her landlady, members of the law firm where she had served as a clerk, and cla.s.smates. The picture that Adam had acquired bore no resemblance to the picture Robert Di Silva had given him. Unless Jennifer Parker was the most consummate actress who ever lived, there was no way she could have been involved in a plot to free a man like Michael Moretti.
Now, almost two weeks after he had had that morning conversation with Stewart Needham, Adam Warner found himself facing the girl whose past he had been exploring. Adam had seen newspaper pictures of Jennifer, but they had not prepared him for the impact she made in person. Even in an old robe, without makeup, and her dark brown hair bath-damp, she was breathtaking.
Adam said, "I've been a.s.signed to investigate your part in the Michael Moretti trial, Miss Parker."
"Have you now!" Jennifer could feel an anger rising in her. It started as a spark and became a flame that exploded inside her. They still were not through with her. They were going to make her pay for the rest of her life. Well, she had had enough.
When Jennifer spoke, her voice was trembling. "I have nothing to say to you! You go back and tell them whatever you please. I did something stupid, but as far as I know, there's no law against stupidity. The District Attorney thinks someone paid me off." She waved a scornful hand in the air. "If I had any money, do you think I'd be living in a place like this?" Her voice was beginning to choke up. "I-I don't care what you do. All I want is to be left alone. Now please go away!"
Jennifer turned and fled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
She stood against the sink, taking deep breaths, wiping the tears from her eyes. She knew she had behaved stupidly. That's twice, That's twice, she thought wryly. She should have handled Adam Warner differently. She should have tried to explain, instead of attacking him. Maybe then she would not be disbarred. But she knew that was wishful thinking. Sending someone to question her was a charade. The next step would be to serve her with an order to show cause, and the formal machinery would be set in motion. There would be a trial panel of three attorneys who would make their recommendation to the Disciplinary Board which would make its report to the Board of Governors. The recommendation was a foregone conclusion: disbarment. She would be forbidden to practice law in the state of New York. Jennifer thought bitterly, she thought wryly. She should have handled Adam Warner differently. She should have tried to explain, instead of attacking him. Maybe then she would not be disbarred. But she knew that was wishful thinking. Sending someone to question her was a charade. The next step would be to serve her with an order to show cause, and the formal machinery would be set in motion. There would be a trial panel of three attorneys who would make their recommendation to the Disciplinary Board which would make its report to the Board of Governors. The recommendation was a foregone conclusion: disbarment. She would be forbidden to practice law in the state of New York. Jennifer thought bitterly, There's one bright side to this. I can get into the There's one bright side to this. I can get into the Guinness Book of Records Guinness Book of Records for the shortest law career in history. for the shortest law career in history.
She stepped into the bath again and lay back, letting the still-warm water lap at her, soothing away her tension. At this moment she was too tired to care what happened to her. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift. She was half asleep when the chill of the water awakened her. She had no idea how long she had lain in the tub. Reluctantly she stepped out and began toweling herself dry. She was no longer hungry. The scene with Adam Warner had taken her appet.i.te away.
Jennifer combed her hair and creamed her face and decided she would go to bed without dinner. In the morning she would telephone about the ride to Seattle. She opened the bathroom door and walked into the living room.
Adam Warner was seated in a chair, leafing through a magazine. He looked up as Jennifer came into the room, naked.
"I'm sorry," Adam said. "I-"
Jennifer gave a small cry of alarm and fled to the bathroom, where she put on her robe. When she stepped out to confront Adam again, Jennifer was furious.
"The inquisition is over. I asked you to leave."
Adam put the magazine down and said quietly, "Miss Parker, do you think we could discuss this calmly for a moment?"
"No!" All the old rage boiled up in Jennifer again. "I have nothing more to say to you or your d.a.m.ned disciplinary committee. I'm tired of being treated like-like I'm some kind of criminal!"
"Have I said you were a criminal?" Adam asked quietly.
"You-isn't that why you're here?"
"I told you why I'm here. I'm empowered to investigate and recommend for or against disbarment proceedings. I want to get your side of the story."
"I see. And how do I buy you off?"
Adam's face tightened. "I'm sorry, Miss Parker." He rose to his feet and started for the door.
"Just a minute!" Adam turned. "Forgive me," she said. "I-everybody seems to be the enemy. I apologize."
"Your apology is accepted."
Jennifer was suddenly aware of the flimsy robe she was wearing. "If you still want to ask me questions, I'll put some clothes on and we can talk."
"Fair enough. Have you had dinner?"
She hesitated. "I-"
"I know a little French restaurant that's just perfect for inquisitions."
It was a quiet, charming bistro on 56th Street on the East Side.
"Not too many people know about this place," Adam Warner said when they had been seated. "It's owned by a young French couple who used to work at Les Pyrenees. The food is excellent."
Jennifer had to take Adam's word for it. She was incapable of tasting anything. She had not eaten all day, but she was so nervous that she was unable to force any food down her throat. She tried to relax, but it was impossible. No matter how much he pretended, the charming man seated opposite her was the enemy. And he was was charming, Jennifer had to admit. He was amusing and attractive, and under other circ.u.mstances Jennifer would have enjoyed the evening enormously; but these were not other circ.u.mstances. Her whole future was in the hands of this stranger. The next hour or two would determine in which direction the rest of her life would move. charming, Jennifer had to admit. He was amusing and attractive, and under other circ.u.mstances Jennifer would have enjoyed the evening enormously; but these were not other circ.u.mstances. Her whole future was in the hands of this stranger. The next hour or two would determine in which direction the rest of her life would move.
Adam was going out of his way to try to relax her. He had recently returned from a trip to j.a.pan where he had met with top government officials. A special banquet had been prepared in his honor.
"Have you ever eaten chocolate-covered ants?" Adam asked.
"No."
He grinned. "They're better than the chocolate-covered gra.s.shoppers."
He talked about a hunting trip he had taken the year before in Alaska, where he had been attacked by a bear. He talked about everything but why they were there.
Jennifer had been steeling herself for the moment when Adam would begin to interrogate her, yet when he finally brought up the subject, her whole body went rigid.
He had finished dessert and he said quietly, "I'm going to ask you some questions, and I don't want you to get upset. Okay?"
There was a sudden lump in Jennifer's throat. She was not sure she would be able to speak. She nodded.
"I want you to tell me exactly what happened in the courtroom that day. Everything you remember, everything you felt. Take your time."
Jennifer had been prepared to defy him, to tell him to do whatever he pleased about her. But somehow, sitting across from Adam Warner, listening to his quiet voice, Jennifer's resistance was gone. The whole experience was still so vivid in her mind that it hurt just to think about it. She had spent more than a month trying to forget it. Now he was asking her to go through it again.
She took a deep, shaky breath and said, "All right."
Haltingly, Jennifer began to recount the events in the courtroom, gradually speaking more rapidly as it all came to life again. Adam sat there quietly listening, studying her, saying nothing.
When Jennifer had finished, Adam said, "The man who gave you the envelope-was he in the District Attorney's office earlier that morning when you were sworn in?"
"I've thought about that. I honestly don't remember. There were so many people in the office that day and they were all strangers."
"Had you ever seen the man before, anywhere?"
Jennifer shook her head helplessly. "I can't recall. I don't think so."
"You said you saw him talking to the District Attorney just before he walked over to give you the envelope. Did you see the District Attorney hand him the envelope?"
"I-no."
"Did you actually see this man talking to the District Attorney, or was he just in the group around him?"
Jennifer closed her eyes for a second, trying to bring back that moment. "I'm sorry. Everything was so confused. I-I just don't know."
"Do you have any idea how he could have known your name?"
"No."
"Or why he selected you?"
"That one's easy. He probably knew an idiot when he saw one." She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry, Mr. Warner, I have no idea."
Adam said, "A lot of pressure is being brought to bear on this. District Attorney Di Silva has been after Michael Moretti for a long time. Until you came along, he had an airtight case. The D.A.'s not very happy with you."
"I'm not very happy with me, either." Jennifer could not blame Adam Warner for what he was about to do. He was just carrying out his job. They were out to get her and they had succeeded. Adam Warner was not responsible; he was merely the instrument they were using.
Jennifer felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to be alone. She did not want anyone else to see her misery.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I-I'm not feeling very well. I'd like to go home, please."
Adam studied her a moment. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you I'm going to recommend that disbarment proceedings against you be dropped?"
It took several seconds for Adam's words to sink in. Jennifer stared at him, speechless, searching his face, looking into those gray-blue eyes behind the horn-rimmed gla.s.ses. "Do-do you really mean that?"
"Being a lawyer is very important to you, isn't it?" Adam asked.
Jennifer thought of her father and his comfortable little law office, and of the conversations they used to have, and the long years of law school, and their hopes and dreams. We're going into partnership. You hurry up and get that law degree. We're going into partnership. You hurry up and get that law degree.
"Yes," Jennifer whispered.
"If you can get over a rough beginning, I have a feeling you'll be a very good one."
Jennifer gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you. I'm going to try."
She said the words over again in her mind. I'm going to try I'm going to try! It did not matter that she shared a small and dingy office with a seedy private detective and a man who repossessed cars. It was a law law office. She was a member of the legal profession, and they were going to allow her to practice law. She was filled with a feeling of exultation. She looked across at Adam and knew she would be forever grateful to this man. office. She was a member of the legal profession, and they were going to allow her to practice law. She was filled with a feeling of exultation. She looked across at Adam and knew she would be forever grateful to this man.
The waiter had begun to clear the dishes from the table. Jennifer tried to speak, but it came out a cross between a laugh and a sob. "Mr. Warner-"
He said gravely, "After all we've been through together, I think it should be Adam."
"Adam-"
"Yes?"
"I hope it won't ruin our relationship, but-" Jennifer moaned, "I'm starved!"
5.
The next few weeks raced by. Jennifer found herself busy from early morning until late at night, serving summonses-court orders to appear to answer a legal action-and subpoenas-court orders to appear as a witness. She knew that her chances of getting into a large law firm were nonexistent, for after the fiasco she had been involved in, no one would dream of hiring her. She would just have to find some way to make a reputation for herself, to begin all over.
In the meantime, there was the pile of summonses and subpoenas on her desk from Peabody & Peabody. While it was not exactly practicing law, it was twelve-fifty and expenses.
Occasionally, when Jennifer worked late, Ken Bailey would take her out to dinner. On the surface he was a cynical man, but Jennifer felt that it was a facade. She sensed that he was lonely. He had been graduated from Brown University and was bright and well-read. She could not imagine why he was satisfied to spend his life working out of a dreary office, trying to locate stray husbands and wives. It was as though he had resigned himself to being a failure and was afraid to try for success.
Once, when Jennifer brought up the subject of his marriage, he growled at her, "It's none of your business," and Jennifer had never mentioned it again.