“Oh, that bag of wind—denying a man the simple pleasures in life!”
I put my hand on his arm in a calming gesture.
“Take it easy, Legal. She doesn’t scare me. I got a plan and I’ll hit Gus’s on the way in next time. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
I pulled a chair away from the wall and sat down next to the bed. I found the remote in the folds of the bedding and muted the television.
“Thank God,” Legal said. “That was driving me nuts.”
“Then why didn’t you turn it off?”
“Because I couldn’t find the damn remote. Anyway, why did you come see me without bringing me any sustenance? You were just here yesterday, right? Pastrami from Art’s in the Valley.”
“You’re right, Legal, and I’m glad you remember it.”
“Then why’d you come back so soon?”
“Because today I need sustenance. Legal sustenance.”
“How do you mean?”
“The La Cosse case. Things are happening and it’s getting hard to see the forest for the trees.”
I ticked off the cast of characters on my fingers.
“I’ve got a shady DEA agent out there, a crooked DA investigator, a cartel thug, and a disbarred lawyer. Then I’ve got my own client in the clink, and the victim in all of this is the only one I really like—or liked—in the first place. To top it all off, I’m being watched—but I’m not exactly sure by who.”
“Tell me all about it.”
I spent the next thirty minutes summarizing the story and answering his questions. I backed up beyond the last update I had given him and then brought the story forward, going into much finer detail than I had previously given. He asked many questions as I told the story but never offered anything back. He was simply gathering data and holding his response. I took him right up to the confrontation I’d just had with Lankford in the DA’s Office waiting room, and the uneasy feeling I had that I was missing something—something right in front of me.
When I was finished, I waited for a response but he said nothing. He made a gesture with his frail hands, as if to throw the whole thing up into the air and let the wind take it. I noticed that both of his arms were purple from all the needles and the prodding and poking they did to him in this place. Getting old was not for the weak.
“That’s it?” I said. “Just throw it to the wind like a bunch of flower petals? You’ve got nothing to say?”
“Oh, I got plenty to say and you’re not going to like hearing it.”
I motioned with my hand inviting him to hit me with it all.
“You’re missing the big picture, Mouse.”
“Really?” I said sarcastically. “What is the big picture?”
“Now you see, that’s the wrong question,” he lectured. “Your first question should not be what but why. Why am I missing the big picture?”
I nodded, going along only grudgingly.
“Then why am I missing the big picture?”
“Let’s start with the report you just gave on the state of your case. You said it took that rookie shortstop you hired out of the five-and-dime to make you see things the right way at the staff meeting this morning.”
He was talking about Jennifer Aronson. It was true that I’d hired her out of Southwestern, which was housed in the old Bullocks Department Store building on Wilshire. It engendered her nickname, but referring to the law school as a five-and-dime was a new low.
“I was only trying to give credit where credit was due,” I said. “Jennifer may still be a rookie but she’s sharper than any three lawyers I could’ve hired out of SC.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s all well and good. She’s a good lawyer, I grant you that. The thing is, you always expect yourself to be the better lawyer and deep down you hold yourself to that. So when all of a sudden this morning it’s the team rookie who sees things with clarity, then that gets under your skin. You’re supposed to be the smartest guy in the room.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Legal pressed on.
“I’m not your shrink. I’m a lawyer. But I think you gotta stop hitting the booze at night and you gotta get your house in order.”
I stood up and started pacing in front of the bed.
“Legal, what are you talking about? My house is—”
“Your judgment and your ability to cut through the obstacles in front of you are, at best, clouded by an outside agenda.”
“You’re talking about my kid? My having to live with knowing my kid wants nothing to do with me? I wouldn’t call that an agenda.”
“I’m not talking about that per se. I am talking about the root of that. I’m talking about the guilt you carry over all of it. It is impacting you as a lawyer. Your performance as a lawyer, as a defender of the accused. And in this case, most likely, the wrongly accused.”