The Simple Truth

Youre not on the visitors list, the young guard said. He eyed Michaels dark blue suit and intelligent features with contempt.A rich, smartass, pretty boy from the city,Michael could read in the mans eyes.

I called several times, but I never got through to anyone who could tell me the procedure for being put on the list.

Up to the prisoner. Generally speaking, if he wants you to visit, you do. If he dont, you dont. Only control these boys got. The guard cracked a grin.

If you tell him that an attorney is here to see him, Im sure hell put me on his visitors list.

Youre his lawyer?

Im involved with an appeal of his right now, Michael said evasively. The guard looked down at his ledger. Rufus Harms, he said, evidently confused. Hes been here since before I was even born. Exactly what sort of appeal could somebody like him have going after all this time?

Im not at liberty to discuss that, Michael said. My work is covered by attorney-client privilege and is absolutely confidential.

I know that. What, you think Im stupid?

Not at all.

If I let you in and it turns out I wasnt supposed to, then my keesters in a lot of trouble.

Well, I was just thinking that you might want to check with your superior. That way, its not your call and you cant get in trouble.

The guard picked up his phone. I was already going to do that, he said in a very unfriendly tone. He spoke into the phone for a couple minutes and then hung up.

Somebodys coming on down. Michael nodded. Where you from? the guard asked.

Washington, D.C.

How much does somebody like you get paid? It was clear that whatever sum Michael stated would be too much. He took a deep breath as he observed the approach of the uniformed officer. Actually, not nearly enough.

The young guard quickly stood and saluted his superior officer. The officer turned to Michael. Please come with me, Mr. Fiske. The man was in his fifties, with the lean build, calm but serious ma

If you tell Mr. Harms that Im here, hell see me.

The man twirled a pen between his fingers, his eyes dead center on the young lawyer. This is rather puzzling. Rufus Harms just received a visit from his lawyer not too long ago. And that person wasnt you.

Is that right? Was his name Samuel Rider? The man didnt answer, but the momentary surprise on his features made Michael inwardly smile. His hunch had proven correct. Harmss former military counsel had enclosed the typewritten sheet of paper. A person can have more than one lawyer, sir.

Not someone like Rufus Harms. He hasnt had anyone for the last twenty-five years. Oh, his brother visits pretty regularly, but all this interest in the man has us puzzled. Im sure you can appreciate that.

Michael smiled pleasantly, but his next words were spoken in a firm ma

The officer stared at him for a few moments and then picked up the phone and spoke into it. He hung up and looked back at Michael without speaking. Five minutes passed before the phone rang again. When the man put it back down, he nodded at Michael and said curtly, Hell see you.

["C14"]CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When Rufus Harms appeared in the doorway of the visitors room, he looked confused as his gaze settled on the young man. He shuffled forward. Michael rose to greet him and was met with a bark by the guard behind Rufus.

Sit down.

Michael did so immediately. The guard watched closely until Rufus took a seat across from Michael, and turned to the lawyer. You were previously instructed as to the rules of conduct during visitation. In case you forgot any of them, theyre posted clearly right over there. He pointed to a large sign on the wall. No physical contact is permitted at any time. And you are to remain seated at all times. Do you understand?

Yes. Do you have to stay in the room? There is such a thing as attorney-client confidentiality. Also, does he have to be chained like that? Michael asked.

You wouldnt ask that if youd seen what he did to a bunch of guys inside this place. Even all chained up he could snap your ski

Then Id appreciate your letting us get started, said Michael. The guard said nothing else and moved over to his post against the door. When Michael looked at Rufus he found the big mans gaze squarely on him. Good afternoon, Mr. Harms. My name is Michael Fiske.

That name dont mean nothing to me.

I know, but Im here to ask you some questions.

They said you were my lawyer. Youre not my lawyer.

I didnt say I was. They just assumed that. Im not associated with Mr. Rider.

Rufuss eyes narrowed. How do you know about Samuel?

Thats really not relevant. Im here to ask you questions, because I received your writ for certiorari.

You did what?

Your appeal. Michael lowered his voice. I work at the United States Supreme Court.

Rufuss mouth fell open. Then what the hell are you doing here?

Michael nervously cleared his throat. I know this isnt actually orthodox. But I read your appeal, and I wanted to ask you some questions about it. It makes a number of very damaging allegations against some very prominent people. As he looked into Rufuss astonished eyes, Michael suddenly regretted ever coming here. I looked into the background of your case and some things dont make sense to me. I wanted to ask you some questions and then, if things check out, we can get your appeal going.

Why isnt it going already? It got to the damned Court, didnt it?

Yes, but it also had a number of technical deficiencies that would have caused it to be denied processing. I can try to help you with those. But what I want to avoid is a scandal. You have to understand, Mr. Harms, that the Court receives bags of appeals from prisoners every year that have no merit.

Rufuss eyes narrowed. Are you saying Im lying? Is that what youre saying? Why dont you spend twenty-five years in this place for something that wasnt your fault and then come here and tell me that?

Im not saying youre lying. I actually think theres something to all of this or, believe me, I wouldnt have come here. He looked around the grim room. He had never been near a place like this, sitting across from a man like Rufus. He suddenly felt like a first-grader getting off the bus and realizing he was somehow in high school. Believe me, he said again. I just need to talk to you.

You got some ID shows you are who you say you are? I aint been in a real trusting mood for the last thirty years.

Supreme Court clerks were not issued ID badges. The security perso

A radio? Michael shook his head. Rufus lowered his voice even more. Then start humming.

What? Michael said, bewildered. I cant really . . . I mean, Im not really musical.