He laughs. “You want cash or a check?” He is unfazed, and though it annoys me, I can't say as I blame him. We both know I'm not going to get the dismissal.
Wallace then reveals why he had been calling me. He's being pressured from above to reach a plea bargain, though he seems confused as to why. My hunch is that Markham and/or Brownfield are using their clout to lean on Wallace's boss, but I'll never be able to prove that.
Wallace's new offer is forty to life, with the possibility of parole in twenty-five years. Willie would be fifty-three before he'd have a chance of getting out. It's still terrible, but it's a lot better than life without parole or a needle in the arm.
I don't think Willie will take it, but it's his decision, and that's what I tell Wallace. He tells me that even though he had to offer it, he hopes Willie won't take it. Wallace believes that anyone who could slaughter Denise McGregor like that doesn't deserve to ever again taste freedom. On that we agree.
I promise to talk to Willie, and I leave to make the drive out to the prison to see him. I ask him where he found Hinton.
“Where did I get my lawyer? Where do you think I got him? From the fucking lawyer fairy?”
“If I knew where you got him, I wouldn't ask. So don't bust my chops, okay?”
He can tell that I'm annoyed, and he doesn't want to piss me off further. I'm the only lawyer he has; in fact I now know that I'm the only lawyer he's ever had.
“The court assigned the asshole to me.”
“Are you sure?”
“That's what he told me. You think I had the cash to go out and interview lawyers?”
“He told you?”
Willie nods. “He did. He bullshitting me?”
I confirm that Hinton was indeed bullshitting him. Willie asks the obvious question. “Why would he want to be my lawyer if he wasn't getting paid?”
I evade the question, but the answer is pretty well set in my mind. Somebody else was paying Hinton. Somebody who wanted Willie Miller to lose. Very possibly the same somebody who paid off Cal Morris and the guys who attacked Willie.
Before I leave, I bring up Wallace's new offer. His answer is short and to the point.
“No.”
“It's the best offer they are going to make,” I say.
“Then go back and tell them to take their best offer and shove it up their ass.”
“I'm not saying you should take it; but I am saying you should seriously consider it. If we lose at trial, it will turn out a hell of a lot worse.”
“I already told you, we ain't gonna lose at trial,” he says.
I'm not going to be able to convince him of our dire circumstances, so I leave and head back to the office. Laurie is back from lunch with Mr. Wonderful. I hope he tore a rotator cuff passing the potatoes. She has checked and learned that the court had in fact not appointed Hinton, and Wallace has also left a message confirming that fact.
My plan is to bring this up before Hatchet at tomorrow's pretrial hearing, but I'm going to need to get my facts in order. What this means is another late night tonight, and I grab all my papers and head home.
AN ENORMOUS LIMOUSINEWITH a chauffeur waiting in the driver's seat is in front of the house when I pull up. I go inside and find Nicole sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee. She does not look happy, which gives us something in common.
“Hello, Nicole.”
“Hello, Andy.”
“Based on the size of the limo outside, either the President of the United States, the Sultan of Brunei, or your father is here.”
“Right the third time,” Philip says as he comes into the kitchen, smiling but not exactly bubbling over with warmth.
“Daddy's heard about what happened.” She takes Philip's arm, which I suppose is her way of showing me who she means by “Daddy.” “He's concerned.”
“Join the club,” I say.
“What are you doing about it?” Philip asks.
“I called the police, made sure the windows and doors were locked, got the alarm system fixed … but most importantly, I'm trying to find out what's going on and who might have done it.”
“Have you made any progress?”
“Not much.” Nicole moans in frustration, but I keep talking to Philip, who puts his hand on Nicole's head to comfort her. “Did you check out Brownfield?”
He nods. “Yes. He was attending business school in London the entire year that picture was taken.”
“Maybe he was back for one of the school breaks.”
Philip smiles his condescending smile, as if I'm a backwoodsman trying to understand the big city. “I pulled a few strings and checked with Immigration. Their records show he was in London for fourteen straight weeks surrounding that date. If the date is right, then it certainly is not Brownfield.”
This is another piece of distressing news placed on top of the pile I already have. Laurie and I were both sure it was Brownfield, and that his adamant denial came from his involvement in some criminal plot. If he was out of the country, then he loses his connection to the picture and to the date my father got the money. My face must show my disappointment and frustration, because Philip pounces on it.
“Can I make a suggestion?” he inquires. He doesn't do humble real well.
“Of course.”
“Since we don't know what or who is behind this, I suggest that you eliminate the potential dangers.”
“And how should I do that?”
“By giving up the murder case. It can't pay too well anyhow and in any event you no longer have any need for money. And it might be a good idea to stop looking into this photograph. Just in case.”
I'm really annoyed, especially by the suggestion that I drop the Miller case. Does he think this is a video game? Can he not realize and respect that a real life is at stake?
“Philip, if you don't mind my saying so, that is ridiculous. I'm going to see this through to the end. My client is on trial for his life.”
“He's already lost one trial. And you know as well as I do how little chance you have to turn that around. Hell, when I was in the prosecutor's office, I would have begged to handle a case like this.”
I'm sure that's true, since publicity was the only reason Philip was there. I'm about to answer him, but he's still going. “Besides,” he says, “it's Nicole's life that has been threatened, Andrew.”
“Actually, it hasn't. Mine has. But I get your point, and I have already suggested that Nicole go someplace safe until this is over. Maybe you can convince her that I'm right.” We're talking about Nicole as if she's not there, and when Philip is around, she effectively isn't. It makes me sad that the disappearance of the Nicole I knew happened on my watch.
Then Philip delivers his roundhouse right. He tells me that I'm not thinking clearly, that if I were I'd realize that whatever I discover could have a negative impact on my father's memory.