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“Well, yes,” Mr. Peabody, Jr., admitted. “We’ve been trying to serve this man for more than a year. His name is William Carlisle. He lives on an estate in Long Island and he never leaves his house. To be quite truthful, a dozen people have tried to serve him. He has a bodyguard-butler who keeps everyone away.”
Je
Mr. Peabody, Jr. leaned forward. “There’s a great deal of money at stake here. But I can’t get William Carlisle into court unless I can serve him, Miss Potter.” Je
Je
At two o’clock that afternoon, Je
Half a block down the street was a gardener’s truck. Je
Je
One of them straightened up. “I am.”
“I have a little job for you…” Je
“Sorry, miss. Too busy.”
“This will only take five minutes.”
“No. Impossible to—”
“I’ll pay you one hundred dollars.”
The three men stopped to look at her. The chief gardener said, “You pay us one hundred dollars for five minutes’ work?”
“That’s right.”
“What we have to do…?”
Five minutes later, the gardener’s truck pulled into the driveway of William Carlisle’s estate and Je
They took their spades from the truck and began to dig. Before a minute had gone by, the front door burst open and an enormous man in a butler’s uniform came storming out.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Long Island Nursery,” Je
The butler stared at her. “You’re what?”
Je
“That’s impossible! Mr. Carlisle would have a fit!” He turned to the gardeners. “You stop that!”
“Look, mister,” Je
“No!” the butler shouted. “I’m telling you there’s been a mistake! Mr. Carlisle didn’t order any trees dug up.”
Je
“Where can I get in touch with your boss?”
Je
The butler glared at her, furious. “Just a minute! Don’t do anything until I return.”
“Keep diggin’,” Je
The butler turned and hurried into the house, slamming the door behind him. A few moments later the door opened and the butler returned, accompanied by a tiny middle-aged man.
“Would you mind telling me what the devil is going on here?”
“What business is it of yours?” Je
“I’ll tell you what business it is of mine,” he snapped. “I’m William Carlisle and this happens to be my property.”
“In that case, Mr. Carlisle,” Je
Early the next morning Adam Warner telephoned. Je
“I thought you would like to know,” Adam said, “that the disbarment proceedings have been officially dropped. You have nothing more to worry about.”
Je
“Justice isn’t always blind.”
Adam did not mention the scene he had had with Stewart Needham and Robert Di Silva. Needham had been disappointed, but philosophical.
The District Attorney had carried on like a raging bull. “You let that bitch get away with this? Jesus Christ, she’s Mafia, Adam! Couldn’t you see that? She’s co
And on and on, until Adam had tired of it.
“All the evidence against her was circumstantial, Robert. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she got mousetrapped. That doesn’t spell Mafia to me.”
Finally Robert Di Silva had said, “Okay, so she’s still a lawyer. I just hope to God she practices in New York, because the minute she sets foot in any of my courtrooms, I’m going to wipe her out.”
Now, talking to Je
Adam knew he must never see her again.
There were days and weeks and months when Je
The nights were worse than the days. They were endless, for Je
She was consumed by loneliness. She went out on occasional dates with young lawyers, but inevitably she found herself comparing them to Adam Warner, and they all fell short. There would be di
The most interesting men who propositioned Je
Christmas came and New Year’s Eve, and Je