Read Online Lady Justice on the Dark Side (Volume 19) by Robert Thornhill - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Thornhill
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police department.”
“I did hear that. The department will miss you, I’m sure.”
“Well, I’m thinking about starting my own private investigation firm. I need an attorney to help me set everything up properly, and, of course, you were my first call.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I can’t help you this time. I’m a defense attorney and what you’re needing right now is a completely different kind of lawyer.”
She opened her drawer, pulled out a card and handed it to me.
“Give Brian a call. He’s our business expert. He can take care of everything for you.”
“Thanks, I will.”
I saw a big smile cross her face.
“So, my old Jedi Knight is going to the dark side. That’s going to be quite a change for you, Walt.”
“Excuse me? What exactly do you mean by the dark side?”
“You’ve been a cop for the last five years and you operated within the boundaries of the law. I’ve worked with dozens of private investigators over the years, and those guys go by a whole different set of rules.”
“I’m not following.”
“As a cop, if you want to search a residence, you go to a judge and get a warrant. The P.I. waits until dark and uses a lock pick to get into the house while the resident is away. If you’re a cop, you need probable cause to pull a driver over and search his vehicle. A P.I. will just wait ‘till the driver leaves and pop the lock with a slim-jim. It’s the difference between the light side and the dark side.”
“Are you saying I can’t be a private investigator unless I go to the dark side?”
“I’m just saying that’s the way 99% of them operate. Maybe you’ll be different. We’ll see. I hope you can be Anakin Skywalker and not turn into Darth Vader.”
“That’s certainly my goal.”
“Are you ready to take on a case? I was going to call a P.I. firm this morning, but I’m willing to give you a shot.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You bet I am! What’s the case?”
“My defendant is the co-owner of the Heart of America Art Gallery on Baltimore in the Crossroads District. I’m sure you’re aware that the Crossroads is the city’s main art gallery hub. There are over a dozen galleries within just a few blocks and the competition has been fierce.
“My client, Jason Knight, opened the gallery two years ago with his partner, Andrew Pitts. It’s been quite a struggle for them, and they were on the verge of bankruptcy when there was a break-in and two very valuable pieces were stolen.
“The pieces were insured, and since the payoff from the insurance company would have been enough to put the gallery back on its feet, the police looked into the possibility that the robbery might have been staged by the owners.
“Long story short, they found one of the pieces hidden in my client’s basement.”
“What about the other partner?”
“They found nothing to tie him to the robbery.”
“Did your guy do it?”
“That’s not really the point. Whether he did it or not, he still deserves a competent defense, but my gut says he’s innocent.”
“So what’s your take on it?”
“Everything is just too perfect. Jason Knight is no fool. If he actually took the pieces, I don’t think he would have been stupid enough to hide them in his basement. He’s been in the business long enough to know the insurance company would take a long look at him and his partner.”
“So are you thinking he’s been set up?”
“That’s certainly a possibility.”
“The partner?”
“Maybe.”
I certainly knew about being set up. A few months earlier, Ox and I had been framed for two murders and the theft of valuable Egyptian artifacts by a pair of corrupt cops. Kevin concocted an ingenious plan which exposed the real perps and
“I did hear that. The department will miss you, I’m sure.”
“Well, I’m thinking about starting my own private investigation firm. I need an attorney to help me set everything up properly, and, of course, you were my first call.”
“I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I can’t help you this time. I’m a defense attorney and what you’re needing right now is a completely different kind of lawyer.”
She opened her drawer, pulled out a card and handed it to me.
“Give Brian a call. He’s our business expert. He can take care of everything for you.”
“Thanks, I will.”
I saw a big smile cross her face.
“So, my old Jedi Knight is going to the dark side. That’s going to be quite a change for you, Walt.”
“Excuse me? What exactly do you mean by the dark side?”
“You’ve been a cop for the last five years and you operated within the boundaries of the law. I’ve worked with dozens of private investigators over the years, and those guys go by a whole different set of rules.”
“I’m not following.”
“As a cop, if you want to search a residence, you go to a judge and get a warrant. The P.I. waits until dark and uses a lock pick to get into the house while the resident is away. If you’re a cop, you need probable cause to pull a driver over and search his vehicle. A P.I. will just wait ‘till the driver leaves and pop the lock with a slim-jim. It’s the difference between the light side and the dark side.”
“Are you saying I can’t be a private investigator unless I go to the dark side?”
“I’m just saying that’s the way 99% of them operate. Maybe you’ll be different. We’ll see. I hope you can be Anakin Skywalker and not turn into Darth Vader.”
“That’s certainly my goal.”
“Are you ready to take on a case? I was going to call a P.I. firm this morning, but I’m willing to give you a shot.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You bet I am! What’s the case?”
“My defendant is the co-owner of the Heart of America Art Gallery on Baltimore in the Crossroads District. I’m sure you’re aware that the Crossroads is the city’s main art gallery hub. There are over a dozen galleries within just a few blocks and the competition has been fierce.
“My client, Jason Knight, opened the gallery two years ago with his partner, Andrew Pitts. It’s been quite a struggle for them, and they were on the verge of bankruptcy when there was a break-in and two very valuable pieces were stolen.
“The pieces were insured, and since the payoff from the insurance company would have been enough to put the gallery back on its feet, the police looked into the possibility that the robbery might have been staged by the owners.
“Long story short, they found one of the pieces hidden in my client’s basement.”
“What about the other partner?”
“They found nothing to tie him to the robbery.”
“Did your guy do it?”
“That’s not really the point. Whether he did it or not, he still deserves a competent defense, but my gut says he’s innocent.”
“So what’s your take on it?”
“Everything is just too perfect. Jason Knight is no fool. If he actually took the pieces, I don’t think he would have been stupid enough to hide them in his basement. He’s been in the business long enough to know the insurance company would take a long look at him and his partner.”
“So are you thinking he’s been set up?”
“That’s certainly a possibility.”
“The partner?”
“Maybe.”
I certainly knew about being set up. A few months earlier, Ox and I had been framed for two murders and the theft of valuable Egyptian artifacts by a pair of corrupt cops. Kevin concocted an ingenious plan which exposed the real perps and
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