More or less. Tee Ray was a rookie, but then experience is hard to gain out there because of the risks. “How much will you charge to represent him?”

Sebastian whistled softly and found the question funny. Bradley never cracked a smile. “I think you should let the public defender handle it,” Sebastian said.

“We know the system, Mr. Rudd. Believe me, we know how things work.”

“Okay. To mount a proper defense of a man charged with the capital murder of a police officer will cost you a quarter of a million dollars.”

“That’s outrageous.”

“It is. No one can afford it. I’ve never heard of a lawyer getting a fee like that for such a case. Maybe a white-collar crook or someone like that, but not murder.”

“Why is it so expensive?”

“Because it will eat up my life until the trial is over. I’ll spend a fortune on investigators, jury consultants, expert witnesses. The State will throw everything it has at Mr. Cardell and spend whatever it takes. Trust me, Bradley, it’s a fat fee all right, but I won’t get rich off of it.”

Bradley swallowed hard and gently adjusted his glasses. He gave the impression of a man who could not be perturbed. Softly he said, “We’ll pay seventy-five thousand. That’s all. Cash. Think of the publicity you’ll get.”

Publicity was already on his mind. Sebastian nodded and smiled. He also admitted to himself it was unheard of for a criminal defense lawyer to collect a fee of $75,000 for a street crime. Cash. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Give me twenty-four hours.”

“No problem. I assume you’ll need witnesses.” Bradley asked this as if he could snap his fingers and find all the testimony Tee Ray might need.

“Do you have witnesses?” Sebastian asked cautiously.

“Well, not yet, but I’m sure we can find some. Look, Mr. Rudd, we control the streets, not the police. This shooting happened on our turf. I’m sure there are eyewitnesses. We’ll help you find them.”

“Okay. While you’re looking, keep in mind that I prefer witnesses who are credible and have not spent time in jail.”

“That could pose a problem in our neck of the woods, but I’ll see what I can do.”

6.

On a beautiful Saturday afternoon, six days after he died, Buck Lester was given a lavish farewell, complete with a full funeral Mass at a downtown cathedral, a somber procession along streets lined with hundreds of uniformed brethren, and a full military interment with flags and guns. It was televised from beginning to end and lasted two hours.

Sebastian figured it was a good time to slip across the street and meet his new client. He visited clients in jail every week and always in one of the many attorney conference rooms on the second floor. There, they talked in private through a screen. Tee Ray, though, was the man of the moment, the hottest defendant in town, so for him there were different procedures. Sebastian was taken to a windowless room on the fourth floor, a room he had never seen before. He bitched at the guard about the extra security. The guard ignored him; the lawyers were always bitching about something.

The partition was not a wire screen but rather a thick sheet of some type of unbreakable glass with a three-inch hole in the middle of it. Sebastian stared at the hole, glanced at his watch, and waited. It was not unusual for the guards to make the lawyers wait, and wait. Bitching usually led to more waiting, but the trade-off was worth it. It was important to bitch to show the guards that they, the lawyers, were not intimidated. As a general rule, the guards despised the lawyers. The lawyers neither liked nor disliked the guards. They barely existed. They were either minimum-wage flunkies or part-time hobby cops lacking enough brains to get a real badge.

Sebastian pondered these things as he waited. The $75,000 in cash was locked in a safe-deposit box in a downtown bank. He was still debating how much to put on the books.

A door opened and a guard appeared. He was followed by Cardell, who for the occasion was wearing a Kevlar vest, a helmet, and of course the usual assortment of chains and cuffs, all for a two-minute walk down the stairs from the protective custody wing on the fifth floor. Because of the wound to his left elbow, the guards had generously cuffed his wrists in the front and not the back. Two more guards crowded behind him. Sebastian shook his head in disbelief as they went about the task of removing the restraints. Cardell stood perfectly still, his eyes on the floor. The helmet came off.

When they finished, one guard said, “You have an hour.”

To which Sebastian replied, “Bullshit. I’m his lawyer. I have as much time as I need.”

“An hour!”

“Take the damned Kevlar vest off, okay? The guy is here to see me, his lawyer. You think I’m planning to shoot my own client?”

The guards laughed at the lawyer’s stupidity. They left the room and Cardell, still wearing the vest, dropped into the plastic chair and looked through the glass. He slowly took the phone hanging by the partition.

Sebastian picked up his and said, “I’m Sebastian Rudd, your lawyer.”