The Lawyer's Lawyer

CHAPTER Seventeen



Jack found a table in the back corner of The Swamp and waited for his friend Ron to make his way over. It was a little after five and Ron was shaking hands and slapping backs as he worked the room. As owner of the legendary restaurant and bar, Ron was one of the best-known people in town after Coach Maddox and the basketball coach, whose name Jack couldn’t remember.

Ron made a point of looking at his watch as he approached Jack.

“You’ve been here for over an hour and you haven’t gotten that kid off yet,” he said as he gave his good friend a hug. “You’re slipping, man. You’re not at the top of your game anymore. I told you when you stopped doing it for money you were going to fall apart.”

Jack laughed. Ron was always in character as the slick-talking New Yorker who didn’t know much except a few common-sense rules such as how to remove the twenties from the cash register every thirty minutes.

“Keep it there any longer, employees get sticky fingers,” he’d told Jack on more than one occasion. “It’s an occupational disease and prevention is the only treatment. If I wasn’t here every day watching them like a hawk, there’d be nothing but nickels and dimes in the register.”

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Ron was an astute businessman who put a great deal of faith and trust in his employees and ran a first-class operation with good food as well as drinks, although he would deny those facts until the cows came home.

“I run a gin mill,” was his favorite line.

Jack and Ron had been friends since high school back in New York City. They were both poor kids, sons of immigrants. Jack’s people were Irish and Ron’s were Italian, a distinction that didn’t resonate with either of them. After college, Jack went on to law school. Ron started a business and then another one and another one until he learned the right way to do things.

“I’m an overnight success,” he would tell people. “It was just a long night.”

“So did you meet with the kid?” Ron asked after he sat down.

“Yeah. I met with Coach Maddox too.”

“And what did the great man have to say? No wait, let me guess. ‘My hands are tied’ or some shit like that.”

Jack laughed again. Ron brought out the best in him. “That’s exactly what he said.”

“It figures. They bring these kids up here, make celebrities out of them, expose them to every temptation known to man, and expect them to handle it like they’ve been doing it all their lives. I’m a big believer in personal responsibility, but this is too much.”

“That’s a problem I can’t solve. I need to find out if Julian is innocent or guilty. If he’s guilty, then he deserves to be punished. My sense after talking to him is that he’s innocent.”

“How can I help, Jack?”

“I thought you might know a little bit about the criminal investigation—who I can talk to and such.”

“The person running the investigation is a detective named Danni Jansen. She’s an old friend of mine. I’ve known her since she came on the force twenty years ago. Good person. She used to be one of our best homicide detectives but now she’s on her way out. I think she’s got less than a year to go before she retires so they’ve got her doing all kinds of stuff.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“I’ll call her right now and ask her to come by. She lives five minutes away.”

“I don’t need to meet her here,” Jack said.

“Why not? Aren’t most problems solved over a drink or two? Don’t answer that. It’s my mantra and I’m sticking with it. I have to. I own a gin mill, for Christ’s sake. Besides, she’s a very good-looking woman and she’s single. She’d be perfect for you. You can kill two birds with one stone.”

Jack just smiled. When Ronnie was on a roll, there was no sense arguing with him. It didn’t get you anywhere.

He was back five minutes later with a dejected look on his face.

“She said she’d meet you at the office tomorrow morning at nine.”

Jack laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Ron asked.

“You are—always playing the matchmaker.”

“I was just trying to sell a few drinks. I’ve gotta pay for these lights to be on, you know.”



Jack was at the police station promptly at nine o’clock the next morning but he didn’t get to see detective Danni Jansen until nine thirty. It was part of the game to make him wait and he wasn’t upset by the maneuver.

“Danni Jansen,” she said when she finally emerged from behind a sterile wooden door with a sign on it that read “Authorized Personnel Only.” “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Sure you are, Jack wanted to reply. She was a tall woman, maybe five eight or nine, with fair skin, large green eyes, and light brown hair that settled just above her shoulders. She was pretty in a natural way, wearing very little makeup from what he could tell, a pair of navy slacks, a light blue button-down shirt, and no jewelry except a silver watch on her left wrist.

“Jack Tobin,” Jack said, extending his hand to meet hers. “No problem. I had some work to keep me busy anyway.”

She motioned for him to follow her through the forbidden door and down a long hallway to a small room that had a table and two chairs.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Ron tells me that you have some important new information for me in the Julian Reardon case, is that correct?”

“Not really. You know how Ron exaggerates. He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?”

“Not really. You know how he exaggerates.” She smiled when she said the words but not in a friendly way. The woman was a poker player. “Do you have any information at all for me?”

“Well, I’m representing Julian for one and I believe that my client is innocent.”

“That’s a shocking revelation. Do you have any facts to support that belief?”

“Just that I know Julian and I know his mother. When I talked to him today, I believe he told me the truth.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“And what would you like me to do now that you have shared your assessment—recommend to the state attorney that she not indict your client?”

She was a tough one, but Jack sensed that it was a front. He suspected they were still looking for information since the decision to indict had not yet been made.

“How about if Julian Reardon comes to the police station tomorrow and I allow you to interview him?”

“That would be nice.” She took a moment to look at him. Jack could tell she was sizing up the situation. “I’ve done my homework on you, Mr. Tobin.”

“Jack.”

Danni ignored the offer to be on more familiar terms. “I don’t know why you are handling this case, but I do know a lawyer of your caliber doesn’t make an offer without wanting something in return. So why don’t you tell me what you want in return for allowing your client to sit down for an interview.”

“I want the name and the date of birth of the alleged victim.”

“You know I can’t do that. This is an ongoing investigation.”

It was not an outright rejection. The language invited some negotiation.

“C’mon, Detective, you know I’m going to be entitled to that information eventually.”

“Do I?”

“Look, the sooner we get to the bottom of this investigation, the better off we’ll both be. I can help you.”

“C’mon, Jack, I wasn’t born yesterday. You don’t want to get to the bottom of anything. You’re a criminal lawyer. You want to get your client off. Who’s kidding who here?”

“Your investigation of me was incomplete, Ms. Jansen. I spent my entire career as an insurance defense lawyer. I now represent people on death row out of choice and not for money. I want to find the truth. If Julian is guilty, he should be punished, although I will be a part of that process as well to make sure it’s fair.”

“You want the name and date of birth of the complainant so that you can do your own investigation?”

“Right.”

“So you can vilify her in the press?”

“That won’t happen. You have my word.”

“And you are going to share information with me?”

“Immediately. You’ll know minutes after I know.”

Danni thought about his words again for a minute. It certainly would be nice to talk to Julian Reardon. And Tobin wasn’t asking for the moon.

“All right, but I don’t want any shenanigans. You double-cross me and I’ll get the state attorney to throw the book at your client.”

“Wouldn’t think of it.”

“Have your client here tomorrow at ten.”

“Fine.”

She stood up to let him know the meeting was over.



“How’d it go?” Ronnie asked when Jack showed up at The Swamp for lunch.

“She’s a tough cookie.”

“She is, but she’s a good cop too. You’re lucky she’s on this case. Some of those other bimbos over there would have pushed for an indictment already. She won’t do that.”

“She’s awfully young to be retiring.”

“Not as young as you might think. I’d say forty-five or so. Still, it’s young to retire from most jobs. We had a serial killer loose here about eight years ago. You remember because you called me in the middle of all that to find out how I was holding up.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Well, that situation affected Danni tremendously. Her daughter was ten at the time and Danni sent her out of town for a while—I don’t know all the particulars because she didn’t and still doesn’t talk about it. I do know that ever since then she’s been counting the days until her retirement.”

“Why?” Jack asked.

“Like I said, I don’t know.”

“Well, I hope she doesn’t retire before we get Julian’s case resolved.”

“I don’t think she will, although you know how those public service jobs work. Even if you’ve got six months to go before you retire, if you’ve got enough sick time, you can just leave.”

“Our tax dollars at work,” Jack said.

“Tell me about it.”