Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune Read online

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Annie. “Your client poisoned her husband with an overdose of curare, which caused paralysis and then she sat on the staircase waiting for him to die.”

  “But he’d been beating her up for years—and he also abused their children,” said Fletcher.

  “Do you have any proof of that, counselor?” asked Jimmy.

  “Not a lot, but on the day she agreed to appoint me, I took several photographs of the bruises on her body, and the burn on the palm of her hand will remain with her for the rest of her life.”

  “How did she get that?” asked Annie.

  “That bastard of a husband pressed her hand down on a burning stove, and only stopped when she fainted.”

  “Sounds like a lovely guy,” said Annie. “So what’s stopping you pleading manslaughter and pressing for extenuating circumstances?”

  “Only the fear of losing, and Mrs. Kirsten having to spend the rest of her life in jail.”

  “Why did she ask you to be her defense counsel in the first place?” asked Jimmy.

  “No one else stepped up to the plate,” replied Fletcher. “And in any case, she found my fee irresistible.”

  “But you’re up against the state’s attorney.”

  “Which is a bit of a mystery, because I can’t work out why he’s bothering to represent the state in a case like this.”

  “That’s simply answered,” said Jimmy. “Black woman kills white man in a state where only twenty percent of the population is black, and over half of them don’t bother to vote, and surprise, surprise, there’s an election coming up in May.”

  “How long has Stamp given you before you have to tell him your decision?” asked Annie.

  “We’re back in court next Monday.”

  “Can you spare the time to be involved in a long trial?” she asked.

  “No, but I mustn’t make that an excuse for agreeing to any compromise.”

  “So we’ll be spending our holiday in court number three, will we?” asked Annie with a grin.

  “It could even be court number four,” said Fletcher, putting an arm around his wife.

  “Have you thought of asking Professor Abrahams’s advice on how she should plead?”

  Jimmy and Fletcher stared at her in disbelief. “He advises presidents and heads of state,” said Fletcher.

  “And possibly the occasional governor,” added Jimmy.

  “Then perhaps the time has come for him to start advising a second-year law student. After all, that’s what he’s paid for.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start,” said Fletcher.

  “How about picking up the phone and asking if he’ll see you,” said Annie. “My bet is that he’d be flattered.”

  Nat arrived at Mario’s fifteen minutes early. He’d chosen the restaurant because it was unpretentious—tables with red-and-white checked cloths, a small arrangement of flowers, with black-and-white photos of Florence decorating the walls. Tom had also told him the pasta was homemade, cooked by the patron’s wife, and this had brought back memories of their trip to Rome. He’d taken Tom’s advice and selected a casual blue shirt, gray slacks and a navy sweater, no tie and no jacket—Tom had approved.

  Nat introduced himself to Mario, who suggested a quiet table in the corner. After Nat had read the menu several times, he looked at his watch again, becoming ever more nervous. He must have checked a dozen times to be sure he had enough cash on him in case they didn’t accept credit cards. Perhaps it would have been more sensible if he had walked around the block a couple of times.

  The moment he saw her, he realized he’d blown it. Su Ling was wearing a smart, well-cut blue suit, cream blouse and navy shoes. Nat rose from his place and waved. She smiled—a smile he hadn’t experienced until then, which made her look even more captivating. She walked over to join him.

  “I apologize,” he said, rising from his place as he waited for her to be seated.

  “What for?” she asked, looking puzzled.

  “My clothes. I confess I spent a lot of time thinking about what I should wear, and still got it wrong.”

  “Me too,” said Su Ling. “I expected you to turn up in a uniform covered in medals,” she added as she slipped off her jacket and placed it over the back of her chair.

  Nat burst out laughing, and they didn’t seem to stop laughing for the next two hours, until Nat asked if she’d like some coffee. “Yes, black please,” said Su Ling.

  “I’ve told you about my family, now tell me about yours,” Nat said. “Are you, like me, an only child?”

  “Yes, my father was a master sergeant in Korea when he met my mother. They were only married for a few months before he was killed at the battle of Yudam-ni.”

  Nat wanted to lean across and take her hand. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said simply. “Mom decided to emigrate to America so that we could meet up with my grandparents. But we were never able to trace them.” This time he did take her hand. “I was too young to know what was going on, but my mother doesn’t give up that easily. She took a job in Storrs Laundry, near the bookstore, and the owner allowed us to live above the shop.”

  “I know that laundry,” said Nat. “My father has his shirts done there—it’s very efficient and …”

  “ … And has been ever since my mother took it over, but she’s had to sacrifice everything to ensure that I had a good education.”

  “Your mother sounds just like mine,” said Nat as Mario appeared by their side.

  “Everything to your satisfaction, Mr. Cartwright?”

  “An excellent meal, thank you, Mario,” said Nat. “All I need now is the check.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Cartwright, and may I say what an honor it has been to have you in the restaurant.”

  “Thank you,” said Nat, trying to hide his embarrassment.

  “How much did you tip him to say that?” asked Su Ling once Mario had slipped away.

  “Ten dollars, and he’s word-perfect every time.”

  “But does it always pay off?” asked Su Ling.

  “Oh yes, most of my dates start taking off their clothes even before we get back to the car.”

  “So do you always bring them here?”

  “No. If I think it’s likely to be a one-night stand, I take them to McDonald’s, followed by a motel—if it’s serious, we go to the Altnaveigh Inn.”

  “So which group are chosen for Mario’s?” asked Su Ling.

  “I can’t answer that,” said Nat, “because I’ve never taken anyone to Mario’s before.”

  “I’m flattered,” said Su Ling as he helped her on with her jacket. As they walked out of the restaurant, Su Ling took his hand. “You’re really quite shy, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am,” said Nat, as they continued walking toward the campus.

  “Not at all like your arch rival, Ralph Elliot.” Nat didn’t comment. “He asked me for a date within minutes of meeting me.”

  “To be fair,” said Nat, “I would have too, but you walked away.”

  “I thought I was running at the time,” she said. He turned and smiled. “And even more interesting is how much action you actually saw in Vietnam to turn you into such a hero.” Nat was about to protest when she added, “Answer, about half an hour.”

  “How do you know that?” asked Nat.

  “Because I did some research on you, Captain Cartwright, and to quote Steinbeck, ‘you’re sailing under false colors.’ I learned that quote today,” she said, “just in case you might think I’m well read. When you jumped on the helicopter, you weren’t even carrying a gun. You were a warrant officer who shouldn’t have been on that aircraft in the first place. In fact, it was bad enough that you jumped on the helicopter without permission, but you also jumped off it without permission. Mind you, if you hadn’t, you might well have been court-martialed.”

  “True,” said Nat, “but don’t tell anyone else, because it will stop me having my usual three