bono?”
“Sure. I have a conscience.”
Adam ignored the banter and stared at Daniel Rosen. Go ahead and fire me, he wanted to say. Go ahead, Mr. Rosen, terminate me so I can go bury my grandfather, then get on with the rest of my life.
“And if he’s executed?” Rosen asked in the direction of Goodman.
“We’ve lost them before, Daniel, you know that. Three, since I’ve run pro bono.”
“What are his chances?”
“Quite slim. Right now he’s holding on by virtue of a stay granted by the Fifth Circuit. The stay should be lifted any day now, and a new execution date will be set. Probably late summer.”
“Not long then.”
“Right. We’ve handled his appeals for seven years, and they’ve run their course.”
“Of all the people on death row, how’d we come to represent this asshole?” Rosen demanded.
“It’s a very long story, and at this moment it’s completely irrelevant.”
Rosen made what appeared to be serious notes on his legal pad. “You don’t think for a moment you’ll keep this quiet, do you?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe hell. Just before they kill him, they’ll make him a celebrity. The media will surround him like a pack of wolves. You’ll be discovered, Mr. Hall.”
“So?”
“So, it’ll make great copy, Mr. Hall. Can’t you see the headlines—LONG-LOST GRANDSON RETURNS TO SAVE GRAMPS.”
“Knock it off, Daniel,” Goodman said.
But he continued. “The press will eat it up, don’t you see, Mr. Hall? They’ll expose you and talk about how crazy your family is.”
“But we love the press, don’t we, Mr. Rosen?” Adam asked coolly. “We’re trial lawyers. Aren’t we supposed to perform for the cameras? You’ve never—”
“A very good point,” Goodman interrupted. “Daniel, perhaps you shouldn’t advise this young man to ignore the press. We can tell stories about some of your stunts.”
“Yes, please, Daniel, lecture the kid about everything else, but lay off the media crap,” Wycoff said with a nasty grin. “You wrote the book.”
For a brief moment, Rosen appeared to be embarrassed. Adam watched him closely.
“I rather like the scenario myself,” Goodman said, twirling his bow tie and studying the bookshelves behind Rosen. “There’s a lot to be said for it, actually. Could be great for us poor little pro bono folks. Think of it. This young lawyer down there fighting like crazy to save a rather famous death row killer. And he’s our lawyer—Kravitz & Bane. Sure there’ll be a ton of press, but what will it hurt?”
“It’s a wonderful idea, if you ask me,” Wycoff added just as his mini-phone buzzed somewhere deep in a pocket. He stuck it to his jaw and turned away from the meeting.
“What if he dies? Don’t we look bad?” Rosen asked Goodman.
“He’s supposed to die, okay? That’s why he’s on death row,” Goodman explained.
Wycoff stopped his mumbling and slid the phone into a pocket. “I gotta go,” he said, moving toward the door, nervous now, in a hurry. “Where are we?”
“I still don’t like it,” Rosen said.
“Daniel, Daniel, always a hard ass,” Wycoff said as he stopped at the end of the table and leaned on it with both hands. “You know it’s a good idea, you’re just pissed because he didn’t tell us up front.”
“That’s true. He deceived us, and now he’s using us.”
Adam took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Get a grip, Daniel. His interview was a year ago, in the past. It’s gone, man. Forget about it. We have more pressing matters at hand. He’s bright. He works very hard. Smooth on his feet. Meticulous research. We’re lucky to have him. So his family’s messed up. Surely we’re not going to terminate every lawyer here with a dysfunctional family.” Wycoff grinned at Adam. “Plus, all the secretaries think he’s cute. I say we send him south for a few months, then get him back here as soon as possible. I need him. Gotta run.” He disappeared and closed the door behind
Alaska Angelini
Cecelia Tishy
Julie E. Czerneda
John Grisham
Jerri Drennen
Lori Smith
Peter Dickinson
Eric J. Guignard (Editor)
Michael Jecks
E. J. Fechenda