His breath was rancid with coffee and cigarettes.
“Sure,” I said. “I get it.”
I moved around him and out to the elevator alcove. He followed me and watched silently as I pushed the down button and waited. I looked over my shoulder at him.
“This may take a while, Lankford.”
“I’ve got all day.”
I nodded.
“I’m sure you do.”
I turned back to look at the elevator doors for a moment and then glanced back over my shoulder at him. I couldn’t resist.
“You look different, Lankford.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“From last time I saw you. Something’s different. You get hair plugs or something?”
“Very funny. But, thankfully, I haven’t seen your ass since La Cosse’s first appearance last year.”
“No, somethin’ more recent. I don’t know.”
That’s all I said. I turned back to concentrate on the elevator doors. Finally the light went on overhead and the doors opened, revealing a car with only four people on it. I knew it would be packed wall to wall and well over the safety code weight limit by the time it got down to the lobby.
I stepped on the elevator and turned back to look at Lankford. I doffed an imaginary hat in saying good-bye.
“It’s your hat,” I said. “You’re not wearing your hat today.”
The elevator doors closed on his dead-eyed stare.
20
The confrontation with Lankford left me agitated. On the ride down I shifted my weight from foot to foot like a boxer in his corner waiting to answer the bell. By the time I reached the ground floor I knew exactly where I had to go. Sly Fulgoni Jr. could wait. I needed to see Legal Siegel.
Forty minutes later I stepped off another elevator onto the fourth floor at Menorah Manor. As I passed the reception desk, the nurse stopped me and told me I had to open my briefcase before she would allow me to go down the hall to Legal’s room.
“What are you talking about?” I said. “I’m his lawyer. You can’t tell me to open my briefcase.”
She responded sternly and without any give.
“Someone has been bringing food from the outside to Mr. Siegel. Not only is it a violation of the health and religious policies of this facility, it is a risk to the patient because it interferes with a carefully considered and scheduled nutrition plan.”
I knew where this was headed and I refused to back down myself.
“You’re calling what you feed him and what he pays for here a nutrition plan?”
“Whether patients enjoy all aspects of the food here is beside the point. If you want to visit Mr. Siegel, you will be required to open your briefcase.”
“If you want to see what’s in my briefcase, you show me a warrant.”
“This is not a public institution, Mr. Haller, and it’s not a courtroom. It is a privately owned and operated medical facility. As head nurse on this ward I have the authority to inspect anyone and anything coming through those elevator doors. We have sick people here and we must safeguard them. Either open your briefcase or I’ll call security and have you removed from the premises.”
To underline the threat, she put her hand on the phone that was on the counter.
I shook my head in annoyance and brought my briefcase up onto the counter. I snapped open the twin locks and flipped up the top of the case. I watched her eyes scan its contents for a long moment.
“Satisfied? There might be a stray Tic Tac in there somewhere. I hope that won’t be a problem.”
She ignored the crack.
“You may close it and you may now visit Mr. Siegel. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.”
I closed the briefcase and walked down the hallway, pleased with myself but knowing I would now need a plan for the next time I actually did want to get food in to Legal. I had a briefcase in a closet at the house that I had taken in barter from a client once. It had a secret compartment that could hold a kilo of cocaine. I could easily hide a sandwich in there, maybe two.
Legal Siegel was propped up on his bed watching an Oprah rerun with the sound on too loud. His eyes were open but seemed unseeing. I closed the door and came over to the bed. I waved my hand up and down in front of his face, fearful for a moment that he was dead.
“Legal?”
He came out of the reverie, focused on me, and smiled.
“Mickey Mouse! Hey, what’d you bring me? Let me guess, tuna-avocado from Gus’s in Westlake.”
I shook my head.
“Sorry, Legal, I don’t have anything today. It’s too early for lunch anyway.”
“What? Come on, give. Pork dip from Coles, right?”
“No, I mean it. I didn’t bring anything. Besides, if I did, Nurse Ratched out there would have confiscated it. She’s onto us and made me open my briefcase.”