with computers. Why?"
"I need to find out who wrote this."
"But-"
"I need," she repeated, "to find out who wrote this."
He met her eye. He studied her face for a second. She knew what he wanted to say. It betrayed everything that they were about. They had read horrible stories in here, one this year about father-daughter incest even, and they had never tried to track the person down.
Lonnie said, "Do you want to tell me what this is about?"
"No."
"But you want me to break all the confidences we've ever set up here?" "Yes." "That bad?" She just looked at him. "Ah, what the hell," Lonnie said. "I'll see what I can do."
Chapter 3
'Tm TELLING YOU," I SAID YET AGAIN. "It's GlL PEREZ."
"The guy who died with your sister twenty years ago."
"Obviously," I said, "he didn't die."
I don't think they believed me.
"Maybe it's his brother," York tried.
"With my sister's ring?"
Dillon added, "That ring isn't unusual. Twenty years ago they were all the rage. I think my sister had the same one. Got it for her sweet sixteen, I think. Was your sisters engraved?"
No.
"So we don't know for sure."
We talked for a while, but there was not much to add. I really didn't know anything. They would be in touch, they said. They'd find Gil Perez's family, see if they could make a positive ID. I didn't know what to do. I felt lost and numb and confused.
My Blackberry and cell phone were going nuts. I was late now for an appointment with the defense team in the biggest case of my career.
Two wealthy collegiate tennis players from the ritzy suburb of Short Hills stood accused of raping a sixteen-year-old African-American girl from Irvington named, and no, her name didn't help, Chamique Johnson. The trial had already started, had hit a delay, and now I hoped to cut a jail-time deal before we had to start up again.
The cops gave me a lift to my office in Newark. I knew that opposing counsel would think my tardiness was a ploy, but there wasn't much to be done about that. When I entered my office, the two lead defense lawyers were already seated.
One, Mort Pubin, stood and started bellowing. "You son of a bitch! Do you know what time it is? Do you?"
"Mort, did you lose weight?"
"Don't start that crap with me."
"Wait, no, that's not it. You're taller, right? You grew. Just like a real boy." "Up yours, Cope. We've been sitting here for an hour!" The other lawyer, Flair Hickory, just sat there, legs crossed, not a care in the world. Flair was the one I paid attention to. Mort was loud and obnoxious and showy. Flair was the defense attorney I feared like no other. He was not what anyone expected. In the first place, Flair - he swore it was his real name but I had my doubts, was gay. Okay, that wasn't a big deal. Plenty of attorneys are gay, but Flair was gay gay, like the love child of Liberace and Liza Minnelli, who'd been brought up on nothing but Streisand and show tunes.
Flair did not tone it down for the courtroom, he intentionally ratcheted it up.
He let Mort rant another minute or two. Flair flexed his fingers and studied his manicure. He seemed pleased by it. Then he raised his hand and silenced Mort with a fluttery wave.
"Enough," Flair said. He wore a purple suit. Or maybe it was eggplant or periwinkle, some such hue. I'm not good with colors. The shirt was the same color The Wood s 31 as the suit. So was the solid tie. So was the pocket hanky. So were-good Lord-the shoes. Flair noticed me noticing the clothes.
"You like it?" Flair asked me.
"Barney joins the Village People," I said.
Flair frowned at me.
"What?"
"Barney, the Village People," he said, pursing his lips. "Could you possibly come up with two more dated, overused pop references?" "I was going to say the purple Teletubby, but I couldn't remember his name."
"Tinky Winky. And that's still dated." He crossed his arms and sighed. "So now that we are all together in this clearly hetero-decorated office, can we just let our clients walk and be done with this?"
I met his eye. "They did it, Flair.''
He wouldn't deny it. "Are you really going to put that deranged stripper-cum-prostitute on the stand?" I was going to defend her, but he already knew the facts. "I am." Flair tried not to smile. "I will," he said, "destroy her." I said nothing.