Read Online Nothing Lost by John Gregory Dunne - Free Book Online Page A

don’t find that amusing,” Patsy Feiffer said, without looking at Allie.
    â€œYou think it’s suggestive and could be construed as sexual harassment?” J.J. said.
    Patsy did not reply.
    â€œYou think it’s an inappropriate story to tell in the middle of a murder trial?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou would prefer full focus on
The People
v.
Toledo.
”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œFull attention on his motion for a continuance?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo we can stiffen Tadeusz Lynch’s backbone?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd make sure his story rhymes?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou don’t think Murray Lubin would welcome that motion? You don’t think he’d love a continuance so he could gin up his own line on Mr. Lynch?” J.J. let the question sink in. “Give Murray two more days and he would rip Lynch’s heart out.” Patsy started to speak, then stopped. “We don’t give him that chance. We put Lynch on first thing. He places the murder weapon in Bobby Toledo’s hand. Murray maybe gives him a bloody nose, but that’s all, nothing we can’t handle, Tadeusz is back in leg irons and on the bus home to Durango Avenue before the afternoon break.” J.J. looked from Patsy to Harvey. “Any objections?” Neither spoke. “Didn’t think so. See you in court.”
    Patsy closed the evidence trunk and wrestled it to the floor. When she opened the door, J.J. said, “Patsy, could you get me a bottle of water and put it under my chair.” Patsy hesitated, her back stiffening. She did not turn around. “And make sure it’s cold.”
    Patsy maneuvered the wheels of the trunk over the door saddle and let the door slam behind her.
    After a moment, Allie said, “What did that story about Wendell X . . .”
    â€œZ . . .”
    â€œ. . . have to do with the Toledo case?”
    â€œNothing. I just thought the tension level needed to be lowered a bit.”
    â€œGood thinking. It really did the trick for Patsy.”
    â€œSarcasm’s not your long suit.”
    â€œI thought you were giving yourself time to figure out why a continuance motion was a crappy idea. Say something. Isn’t that what you told Patsy?”
    J.J. rose and slipped his jacket on. “On the money.” He stared at her for a moment. “Max Cline might turn you into a pretty good lawyer.”
    â€œWhen Max told that story, Wendell’s name was X. Mustafa X.”
    J.J. smiled. “It’s a courthouse classic. I was betting Patsy had never heard it. And Harvey’s brain-dead.”
    â€œYou’re a real shit.”
    â€œAgreed.”
    MAX
    Allie gave me chapter and verse later, after a class in cross-examination in my role as mentor-savant to the less than privileged, the not quite Caucasian, and the first-language-anything-but-English minorities who were my students at Osceola Community.
    â€œWhy was he so beastly to what’s-her-name?”
    â€œPatsy.”
    â€œSoftening her up?”
    Allie shrugged.
    â€œSo that she’s
soooo
surprised when she winds up in the kip with him?”
    Another shrug.
    â€œThat his MO with you?”
    â€œMOs don’t work with me, Max. Just a good stiff dick.”
    CHAPTER FOUR
    The warden’s office at the state penitentiary on Durango Avenue overlooked the visitors’ parking lot. On the wall opposite the warden’s desk, there were monitors showing each cellblock, and in the death-row holding cell a ceiling camera recorded what promised to be the last hours of Percy Darrow’s life.
    â€œWho do you think designed the electric chair?” Charley Buckles said.
    â€œA matter of some dispute, Charley,” J.J. McClure said. “Thomas Alva Edison was in the running. A direct-current man. George Westinghouse favored alternating. AC and DC. Each trying to corner the electricity market. Capitalism at work. Edison juiced a