Unlucky in Law

Kachung. Overhead. Negative balance sheet.

“Is the D.A. offering any kind of plea bargain? Do we really have to try this one?” Sean asked.

“Any felony conviction runs a risk of a Three Strikes enhancement, so we ca

Alan said in ungentlemanly fashion, “I referred him to you because I felt obligated, but I never understood why you took this case in the first place, Klaus. We’re mixed up in something-unsavory. There’s no new law to be made, no real money in it for the firm, no noble point to his crimes.”

Klaus stared at Alan, lips turned down, as if generally unhappy with his attitude toward their client. “Alleged crimes,” he corrected softly. “Yes, Mr. Turk, your objections from the start have been noted. However, I did not found this law firm forty years ago to make money. I founded it to seek justice and make law.”

“Oh, please,” Alan said, rolling his eyes. “The jails are full of guys just like him, probably a hell of a lot more worthy.”

“I am shocked at you, Mr. Turk,” Klaus said. “Mr. Wyatt’s brother was your client, and he needs help.”

Silence fell.

Bear said, “Give it a rest, Alan. You have enough money for a thousand years from your parents. The client’s family is paying most of the freight. Let’s get on with practicing law.”

“Somebody has to pay the secretaries,” Alan said, but without heat. He had decided not to take Bear on.

“It’s good to have you on board,” Sean told Nina.

“Thanks. I’m sure we’ll do fine,” Nina said briskly. “You’ll be seeing a couple of new faces around the office besides me. Sandy Whitefeather, my secretary from Tahoe, has come down to assist me. You’ll pass her in the hall. You might want to take the initiative with her and introduce yourself. She’s a very capable person but, uh, a little shy.”

“I ran into her this morning,” Sean said. “Shy might not be the right word for her. She’s-prepossessing. From the Washoe tribe, she said?”

“Right. Descended from the first inhabitants of Tahoe. Good people.”

“Big money in casinos these days,” Alan said.

“The Washoe have chosen a different way. Ask her about it. That, she’ll talk about.”

The meeting had settled back down, to Nina’s relief.

“You all know Paul van Wagoner, I think. He’ll be taking over as our investigator. And we’re bringing in Dr. Ginger Hirabayashi as our forensic pathologist.” Nina knew Ginger well and had made the suggestion to Klaus. Although he seemed satisfied with the work that had been done already, she had been relieved to discover that he was willing to go further based on her recommendations.

Klaus broke a smile and pushed his chair back. “And I am happy to repeat that we now have on board this lovely young lady, prepared to stagger us with her energy and legal skill. She will be the saving grace of this unfortunate young man. Let us have lunch and celebrate, eh?”

And so, although time was tight and Nina knew she should work through lunch, they all piled out the door, Nina in the place of honor, walking alongside Klaus at his sedate pace into Carmel’s tangy ocean air. They made their way through the tourists to the Alpine Bistro. Klaus went through the door into the heavenly smells waiting inside. As Nina prepared to follow, Bear pulled her aside onto the flower-filled veranda.

“I’m glad you’re back, Nina, really happy. Let us know what we can do to help. Anything.” The weather-beaten lines of his face shaped a wholehearted smile. “Klaus needs the help.”

Through the window, she saw Klaus sit down in the place where he had eaten lunch for forty years. The waitress and the manager stood by, ready to attend him. He caught her looking his way and gri

The meeting had disturbed her. It felt as if the other lawyers were indulging Klaus with this case. They hadn’t even tried to quiz him about strategy and defenses, questions she would have expected. Why were they all so worried?

Walking into the restaurant she received another unearned smile from Sean Eubanks. He was much too glad to meet her, she thought, sitting down beside him. He acted as if her presence relieved him of a burden. Only Alan, chewing sullenly on a carrot, was a relief from otherwise unalloyed delight.

What had she gotten herself into?

“You’re a champ for dropping everything to see me,” Nina said to Ginger when Nina finally got back at three. “Sorry I’m late. Lunch ran long.”

“I enjoyed the ride,” Ginger said. She gave Nina a warm hug, which Nina, surprised, returned. “Sandy and I have been catching up.” Encased in soft black leather from head to boot, she smelled of spicy perfume. Her black hair, tipped with white, spiked out like a sunburst, and she seemed to have a couple of new piercings in her ears. She was forty-five and looked a lot younger. She ran her own business now, after a long stint with the state lab in Sacramento, and was one of the top pathologists on blood evidence questions in California, much in demand by both defense and prosecution as an expert witness.

“Thanks for coming all the way down from Sacramento. I know how busy you always are, and I think you know I appreciate it. How are you?” she asked as Ginger took her seat. “It’s been a while.”

“Good work, bad affair, new girlfriend, bought a glam condo near Oldtown Sac since we last worked together,” she said. “You?”

“Left Tahoe, came here with Paul, so old new love,” Nina said, attempting the same game and giving up. “Let’s just say, after the court case in San Francisco in which my own State Bar tried to take me out and failed, I have been rethinking my life. I’m living too near my father, mostly at odds with him whenever we get together, getting together with Paul, and getting on Bob’s case. He’s mighty intense these days.”

Ginger spotted Nina’s ring. She took Nina’s hand into her own. “Wow. Fabulous! Art Deco, I do believe.” She lifted Nina’s hand up and down, as if weighing it. “Heavy commitment, this dazzler.” Letting go, she looked into Nina’s eyes, questioningly. “You’re going to marry van Wagoner and stay here? You won’t be going back to Tahoe?”

“I’m trying out the ring for size. Any words of wisdom?”

“He’s a pig,” Ginger said, “but you know that, and we love him in spite of his flaws.”

Nina smiled.

“You’re not imagining you’ll reform him, are you?”

“Not really. No.”

“He’s a macho control freak.”

“That’s a little harsh. Anyway, so am I.”

Ginger thought about that. “True. So I don’t know where that leaves you.”

“Making progress?”

“Right. Well, we’re not going to resolve your life or mine, but maybe we can make some headway on this case.”

They got down to it.

“What I’m seeing,” Ginger said a half hour later, after examining some of the documents the D.A.’s office had provided them, “is that the victim apparently was killed in the kitchen of her apartment in Monterey on Friday night, April eleventh. That’s what-nearly five months ago? It’s a strangulation. Hands-on, no evidence of a cord or anything like that. There were small signs of a possible struggle-some broken glass. Some of the glass had blood on it.”

“Right,” Nina said. “And as you can see, it appears from this report that all of the blood samples found at the crime scene have been identified as Stefan Wyatt’s.”

“Not good. The blood seems to have been reasonably fresh. The amounts were small for a decent analysis, so that’s an area we might challenge.”

“Does the state lab work look like it will stand up?”

Ginger shook her head. “Too soon to draw conclusions for you, Nina. Did you request samples for independent analysis?”