61
WANTING A chance to talk the case over with Rafael’s new lawyer, Duncan arranged to personally deliver a copy of the file down to him. The file half-filled a banker’s box, tiny as far as Duncan was concerned—most of his cases had hundreds of thousands, if not millions of pages of documents going back and forth.
Rafael’s new lawyer, Robert Walker, had a solo practice out of an office on Thomas Street downtown. The building had an Art Deco charm, although it did not seem well kept: the slow and tiny elevator wheezed and clanked as it took Duncan up. Walker’s office was small and derelict, the sort of office Duncan pictured a thirties private eye having. It was also a mess: papers everywhere, no sign of organization. Duncan’s office looked the same way, but he had a support staff and a file room that kept track of originals.
“Thanks for the personal service,” Walker said, gesturing for Duncan to put the box down on an empty patch of floor, the carpet discolored with age. He was a burly, bearded guy in his late forties who had clearly bought his suits twenty pounds ago. “But you could’ve just stuck it all in the mail.”
“I thought it would be useful for us to talk,” Duncan said.
“About?”
Duncan didn’t quite know how to begin. “There’re some unusual aspects about this case that may not be reflected in the file.”
“I don’t really know anything about it at this stage of the game,” Walker said. “I can always give you a call if I have any questions after I’ve gotten up to speed.”
“Sure,” Duncan said, taking a card from his wallet.
Walker took Duncan’s card. “Blake and Wolcott, huh?” he said, looking back up at Duncan. “This must have been what, pro bono for you?”
“It was, but—”
“I may not have a fancy office, but I’ve been practicing criminal law for over twenty years. I’ve handled literally thousands of felonies.”
Duncan did not find the volume of cases reassuring; rather it just confirmed his impression of Walker as a low-end court-appointed lawyer who made his living by the sheer number of people he helped shuffle through the system. “It’s not that I have any doubts about your ability or experience, Mr. Walker. I just wanted a chance to go over some things that you’re simply not going to be able to pick up by reading the file.”
“That all sounds very mysterious, Mr. Riley. I hope you’re not taking everything your client says at face value, because in my experience most criminal cases are exactly what meets the eye.”
“I have reason to suspect that the victim here was killed by completely different people for completely different reasons, and that Rafael was set up. Perhaps I need to back up.”
Walker looked at his watch. “I have to be in court in twenty minutes,” he said. “I’m sure your theory is a fascinating one, and if you want to write it up and send it to me I’ll give it a read. But I’ve got a lot of cases, and I don’t generally go looking for a conspiracy theory.”
“If I could just have a couple of minutes—”
“As I just said, I don’t have a couple of minutes, Mr. Riley. I’ll turn to Mr. … this case as soon as I can. Thanks for dropping off the files.”