The Firm Page 0,46

There was so much to talk about, but it was all in the past. They had nothing in common but the past, and it was best to leave it alone.

"You mentioned in a letter that one of your excellmates is a private investigator in Memphis."

"Eddie Lomax. He was a Memphis cop for nine years, until he got sent up for rape."

"Rape?"

"Yeah. He had a tough time here. Rapists are not well regarded around this place. Cops are hated. They almost killed him until I stepped in. He's been out about three years now. He writes me all the time. Does mainly divorce investigations."

"Is he in the phone book?"

"969-3838. Why do you need him?"

"I've got a lawyer buddy whose wife is fooling around, but he can't catch her. Is this guy good?"

"Very good, so he says. He's made some money."

"Can I trust him?"

"Are you kidding? Tell him you're my brother and he'll kill for you. He's gonna help me get out of here, he just doesn't know it. You might mention it to him."

"I wish you'd stop that."

A guard walked behind Mitch. "Three minutes," he said.

"What can I send you?" Mitch asked.

"I'd like a real favor, if you don't mind."

"Anything."

"Go to a bookstore and look for one of those cassette courses on how to speak Greek in twenty-four hours. That plus a Greek-to-English dictionary would be nice."

"I'll send it next week."

"How about Italian too?"

"No problem."

"I'm undecided about whether to go to Sicily or the Greek isles. It's really got me tore up. I asked the prison minister about it, and he was of no help. I've thought of going to the warden. What do you think?"

Mitch chuckled and shook his head. "Why don't you go to Australia?"

"Great idea. Send me some tapes in Australian and a dictionary."

They both smiled, then stopped. They watched each other carefully and waited for the guard to call time. Mitch looked at the scar on his forehead and thought of the countless bars and countless fights that led to the inevitable killing. Self-defense, Ray called it. For years he had wanted to cuss Ray for being so stupid, but the anger had passed. Now he wanted to embrace him and take him home and help him find a job.

"Don't feel sorry for me," Ray said.

"Abby wants to write you."

"I'd like that. I barely remember her as a small girl in Danesboro, hanging around her daddy's bank on Main Street. Tell her to send me a picture. And I'd like a picture of your house. You're the first McDeere in a hundred years to own real estate."

"I gotta go."

"Do me a favor. I think you need to find Mom, just to make sure she's alive. Now that you're out of school, it would be nice to reach out to her."

"I've thought about that."

"Think about it some more, okay?"

"Sure. I'll see you in a month or so."

* * *

DeVasher sucked on a Roi-Tan and blew a lungful of smoke into his air purifier. "We found Ray McDeere," he announced proudly.

"Where?" asked Ollie.

"Brushy Mountain State Prison. Convicted of second-degree murder in Nashville eight years ago and sentenced to fifteen years with no parole. Real name is Raymond McDeere. Thirty-one years old. No family. Served three years in the Army. Dishonorable discharge. A real loser."

"How'd you find him?"

"He was visited yesterday by his kid brother. We happened to be following. Twenty-four-hour surveillance, remember."

"His conviction is public record. You should've found this earlier."

"We would have, Ollie, if it was important. But it's not important. We do our job."

"Fifteen years, huh? Who'd he kill?"

"The usual. A buncha drunks in a bar fighting over a woman. No weapon, though. Police and autopsy reports say he hit the victim twice with his fists and cracked his skull."

"Why the dishonorable discharge?"

"Gross insubordination. Plus, he assaulted an officer. I don't know how he avoided a court-martial. Looks like a nasty character."

"You're right, it's not important. What else do you know?"

"Not much. We've got the house wired, right? He has not mentioned Tarrance to his wife. In fact, we listen to this kid around the clock, and he ain't mentioned Tarrance to anyone."

Ollie smiled and nodded his approval. He was proud of McDeere. What a lawyer.

"What about sex?"

"All we can do is listen, Ollie. But we listen real close, and I don't think they've had any in two weeks. Of course, he's here sixteen hours a day going through the workaholic rookie counselor routine that you guys instill. It sounds like she's getting tired of it. Could