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On Je
In March, Otto Wenzel decided to move to Florida with his wife.
“My bones are getting too old for these New York winters,” he told Je
“I’ll miss you.” Je
“Take care of Ken.”
Je
“He never told you, did he?”
“Told me what?”
He hesitated, then said, “His wife committed suicide. He blames himself.”
Je
“She caught Ken in bed with a young blond man.”
“Oh, my God!”
“She shot Ken and then turned the gun on herself. He lived. She didn’t.”
“How awful! I had no idea that…that—”
“I know. He smiles a lot, but he carries his own hell with him.”
“Thanks for telling me.”
When Je
“Yes.”
Ken Bailey gri
“I guess so.”
And in a way, Je
Je
A few clients walked in off the street. They were usually poorly dressed, bewildered and, in some instances, out-and-out nut cases.
Prostitutes came in to ask Je
Whenever a client came to see Je
Je
A few of the clients who came into Je
They were well dressed, with an air of affluence about them, and the cases they brought to her were not the nickel-and-dime cases Je
“Where did you hear about me?” Je
The replies she got were always evasive. From a friend…I read about you…your name was mentioned at a party…It was not until one of her clients, in the course of explaining his problems, mentioned Adam Warner that Je
“Mr. Warner sent you to me, didn’t he?”
The client was embarrassed. “Well, as a matter of fact, he suggested it might be better if I didn’t mention his name.”
Je
She found herself thinking of Adam Warner more and more often. She kept remembering the evening he had come to her apartment and how badly she had behaved. He had been wonderful to put up with her childish behavior when she had taken out her anger on him. Now, in addition to everything else he had done for her, he was sending her clients.
Je
“Is there any message?” his secretary asked.
Je
Je
From time to time Je
Most of Je
When one of her clients was arrested for shoplifting, mugging, prostitution or drugs, Je
“Bail is set at five hundred dollars.”
“Your Honor, the defendant doesn’t have that much money. If the court will reduce bail to two hundred dollars, he can go back to work and keep supporting his family.”
“Very well. Two hundred.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Je
“You again, Parker! For God’s sake, don’t you ever sleep?”
“Hi, Lieutenant. A client of mine was picked up on a vagrancy charge. May I see the arrest sheet? The name is Co
“Tell me something, honey. Why would you come down here at three A.M. to defend a vagrant?”
Je
She became familiar with night court, held in Room 218 of the Centre Street courthouse. It was a smelly, overcrowded world, with its own arcane jargon. Je
“Parker, your client is booked on bedpain.”
“My client is booked on what?”
“Bedpain. Burglary, with a Break, Enter, Dwelling, Person, Armed, Intent to kill, at Night. Get it?”
“Got it.”
“I’m here to represent Miss Luna Tarner.”
“Jesus H. Christ!”
“Would you tell me what the charges are?”
“Hold on. I’ll find her ticket. Luna Tarner. That’s a hot one…here we are. Pross. Picked up by CWAC, down below.”