to Agatha. The Prof has organized more domestics than any union ever could. Newspapers were covered with red circles, I looked over his shoulder. All ads for lawyers. You had a car accident? Slip and fall in front of a supermarket? Your baby born brain–damaged? Give us a call. No fee unless successful. The stuff about "expenses payable at conclusion of case" was in much smaller type. He was running the game down, Agatha nodding her head, focusing, getting her act together.
"You want this to last, you got to move fast," he was saying to Agatha. "Fiona's gonna be at the hospital. Say what you got to say, don't let them play. One call, that's all. Got it?"
She nodded. He gave her a handful of quarters and she waddled off to the pay phones.
I lit a cigarette, sipped the cup of hot chocolate the waitress brought over, waited.
"Here's the slant on the plant, brother. You know Fiona? Works the trucks in the meat market? She's in the hospital. Some psycho chased her right up on the curb with his car. Broke her leg, ripped up some stuff inside. She's gonna need operations for days."
"So she needs a lawyer?"
"For what, man? The citizen who hit her, he disappeared. It'll go as a hit–and–run…those ain't no fun."
"Where's the money?"
"Agatha calls up about a dozen of these lawyers…the ones who advertise, dig it? She tells each one that Fiona is her daughter, okay? Sixteen years old. Tells them she was hit by an Exxon truck on her way to school. Ain't a shyster in town wouldn't grab that one, right?"
"Right."
"So Agatha tells them some sleazy lawyer got tipped to the case by one of the ER nurses, right? And the lawyer came to the hospital, signed up the case. Now Fiona, she's only sixteen, okay? Agatha wants to know if this is legit, see? She don't like the idea of vultures moving in on her poor baby. Wants a new lawyer."
"So?"
"So the lawyer, he calls the hospital. Verifies that Fiona's a patient, had some real harm done to her, vehicle accident. The boy thinks he got money in the bank. Agatha tells him she'll sign the retainer, no problem. Sweetens the deal a bit—tells the lawyer that Exxon already sent a guy over to the hospital, offered her a hundred grand to sign a release, see?"
"Okay, so she gets fifty different lawyers on the case. So what?"
"Here's where we score. Agatha tells the lawyer she needs some cash to tide her over. Got to quit her job, spend every minute with her baby–child in the hospital, needs cab fare to visit her, buy her some presents, keep her spirits up, all that. Some get the message, some don't."
"So what could she get, couple a hundred bucks?"
"Yeah. Couple a hundred bucks. Maybe ten, fifteen times before today's over. Not so shabby."
"Does it bounce back on the kid?"
"What kid? Fiona's twenty–five if she's a day. Been turning tricks since she came in from the sticks. They come around, ask her some questions, she don't know nobody named Agatha. Her poor mama been dead a long time."
"It's a lot of work for a little piece of change."
His eyes went sad. "Thought you'd dig the play, man. Stinging lawyers. And no risk."
"Yeah, but…"
"Maybe you got a better plan, 'home? Let's see now, what would a big–time thief like you need for a major–league take? How about a pistol and a getaway driver…then all you'd need is a liquor store."
"I wasn't downing your play, Prof."
"You ain't got the bail, you stay in jail, chump. You know why they call some plans foolproof, schoolboy? 'Cause even fools like you couldn't fuck it up."
"I got something else now."
"I wasn't offerin' to cut you in, Jim."
"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? It's a good plan."
His eyes held mine, alert now, homing in on the target. "You not getting a touch of that fever again?"
"What fever?"
"Monster fever, man. A kid gets done, it's just fuel for your duel, fool. You hear the bell, you go to hell. Like before that mad dog Wesley checked out. When you almost jumped the track."
I lit a smoke, cupping the match even
"You want this to last, you got to move fast," he was saying to Agatha. "Fiona's gonna be at the hospital. Say what you got to say, don't let them play. One call, that's all. Got it?"
She nodded. He gave her a handful of quarters and she waddled off to the pay phones.
I lit a cigarette, sipped the cup of hot chocolate the waitress brought over, waited.
"Here's the slant on the plant, brother. You know Fiona? Works the trucks in the meat market? She's in the hospital. Some psycho chased her right up on the curb with his car. Broke her leg, ripped up some stuff inside. She's gonna need operations for days."
"So she needs a lawyer?"
"For what, man? The citizen who hit her, he disappeared. It'll go as a hit–and–run…those ain't no fun."
"Where's the money?"
"Agatha calls up about a dozen of these lawyers…the ones who advertise, dig it? She tells each one that Fiona is her daughter, okay? Sixteen years old. Tells them she was hit by an Exxon truck on her way to school. Ain't a shyster in town wouldn't grab that one, right?"
"Right."
"So Agatha tells them some sleazy lawyer got tipped to the case by one of the ER nurses, right? And the lawyer came to the hospital, signed up the case. Now Fiona, she's only sixteen, okay? Agatha wants to know if this is legit, see? She don't like the idea of vultures moving in on her poor baby. Wants a new lawyer."
"So?"
"So the lawyer, he calls the hospital. Verifies that Fiona's a patient, had some real harm done to her, vehicle accident. The boy thinks he got money in the bank. Agatha tells him she'll sign the retainer, no problem. Sweetens the deal a bit—tells the lawyer that Exxon already sent a guy over to the hospital, offered her a hundred grand to sign a release, see?"
"Okay, so she gets fifty different lawyers on the case. So what?"
"Here's where we score. Agatha tells the lawyer she needs some cash to tide her over. Got to quit her job, spend every minute with her baby–child in the hospital, needs cab fare to visit her, buy her some presents, keep her spirits up, all that. Some get the message, some don't."
"So what could she get, couple a hundred bucks?"
"Yeah. Couple a hundred bucks. Maybe ten, fifteen times before today's over. Not so shabby."
"Does it bounce back on the kid?"
"What kid? Fiona's twenty–five if she's a day. Been turning tricks since she came in from the sticks. They come around, ask her some questions, she don't know nobody named Agatha. Her poor mama been dead a long time."
"It's a lot of work for a little piece of change."
His eyes went sad. "Thought you'd dig the play, man. Stinging lawyers. And no risk."
"Yeah, but…"
"Maybe you got a better plan, 'home? Let's see now, what would a big–time thief like you need for a major–league take? How about a pistol and a getaway driver…then all you'd need is a liquor store."
"I wasn't downing your play, Prof."
"You ain't got the bail, you stay in jail, chump. You know why they call some plans foolproof, schoolboy? 'Cause even fools like you couldn't fuck it up."
"I got something else now."
"I wasn't offerin' to cut you in, Jim."
"Hey, I'm sorry, okay? It's a good plan."
His eyes held mine, alert now, homing in on the target. "You not getting a touch of that fever again?"
"What fever?"
"Monster fever, man. A kid gets done, it's just fuel for your duel, fool. You hear the bell, you go to hell. Like before that mad dog Wesley checked out. When you almost jumped the track."
I lit a smoke, cupping the match even
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