The Lawyer's Lawyer

CHAPTER Forty-One



Ron had been banging on the condo door for almost five minutes before he decided to use his key and just open it. He’d been calling Jack for hours before that to no avail so he decided to drive over. Jack’s car was outside, but he wouldn’t answer the door. Ron was worried. He’d heard the news about Sam Jeffries’s daughter—it was everywhere now—and he knew that Jack would take it hard.

Once in the apartment he looked around but didn’t see anybody. The place was a little bit of a mess but not too bad. Ron spied two bottles of Jack Daniel’s side by side on the kitchen counter.

“Jack, are you here?”

No answer.

He checked out the two bedrooms and the bathroom. Nobody.

“C’mon Jack, where the hell are you?” Ron yelled, knowing that Jack could have gone out for a run or a bike ride or a plain old walk. It just didn’t seem like he would after getting this news though. And the bottles of Jack Daniel’s were a pretty good indicator that he was temporarily off his training regimen. Then Ron saw the curtain fluttering by the open sliding glass door leading out to the patio. He headed that way. Jack was sitting outside, a cigar in his right hand, an empty shot glass on the table in front of him, and a half-full bottle of Miller Lite in his left hand.

It was a tall table with tall chairs, and Ron’s first thought was that Jack looked so unstable that he might fall off his chair.

“Jack, didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Jack ignored the question. “Sit down, Ronnie.” He slurred the words. “No, better yet, why don’t you walk out to the kitchen and get the full bottle of Jack and a couple of beers from the refrigerator. I’d do it myself but I’m a little under the weather right now.”

Ron figured it wasn’t the right time for a lecture, and if he wanted to get Jack to open up and let the poison out, he was going to have to sit with him for a while and share a drink or two. Jack would eventually tell him, he knew that. He only hoped he had the right answers when the discussion started. His friend needed help but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to listen. Ron had to get through to him somehow.

In the meantime, he headed for the kitchen to get the beer and the whiskey.

A couple of beers and one shot later, the real discussion began.

“Did you ever make a monumental mistake, Ronnie? One you didn’t think you’d recover from?”

“Tons of ’em.”

“I’m not talking about failed businesses and shit like that. I’m talking about something that goes to your core, that affects who you are.”

“I know what you’re talking about, Jack. I left my first wife and my son. He grew up without me around. That was a fundamental, monumental f*ckup that I still regret to this day.”

“How do you deal with it?”

“I can’t change it. I just have to go on and I have to make up for it in some way with the people I meet. I have to give more of myself because I didn’t in the past.”

“That’s it?”

“I tried to make it up to my son but he resented me. We’re a little better now but it’ll never be great. At least I’m still here. At least I can help him if he needs it.”

“I don’t have that option. I caused a woman to lose her life and her father to lose his daughter after already losing his wife. How do you remedy that?”

“You didn’t cause anybody to lose their life, Jack. You represented a man who you believed was innocent. Apache County set him free, for Christ’s sake, not you. They could have prosecuted him for that attempted murder. A judge could have put him away for another twenty-five years but the county chose not to do so.”

“I represented a serial killer, Ronnie.” Jack leaned over the table until his face was almost in Ron’s. He started to fall off his chair. Ron caught him and straightened him back up. He kept talking as if he hadn’t noticed what had happened. “Danni told me not to do it. She told me I was getting into something I knew nothing about. I refused to listen.”

“Think about all the people you’ve helped, Jack, because you didn’t prejudge, you didn’t listen to anybody—you relied only on the facts. You’re not perfect, my friend. You were bound to make a mistake. If there weren’t people like you, Jack, a lot of innocent folks would have been executed.”

“You don’t understand, Ronnie. This was a serial killer.” He leaned in and almost toppled over again. Ron knew it wouldn’t be long before he was sleeping it off.

“I’m sure I don’t understand, Jack. It was an awesome responsibility. But it’s over. You need to find a purpose again. Maybe you won’t be able to do this death row stuff for a while, but you can do something for the greater good. Something worthwhile. That’s who you are. Wasn’t it you who told me you have to give back to the universe to even things out?”

“Don’t hit me with that garbage now. And you’re still not getting it. I’m not talking about responsibility, I’m talking about arrogance. Why did I think I was smarter than the people who put this guy away?”

“I’m sure you had your reasons, and they were good reasons. I’ve met a lot of arrogant bastards in my time and you’re not one of them. You’re the opposite of that.”

Just then the front doorbell rang. The doorbell, Ron thought to himself. Why didn’t I think of that? He knew the answer. He’d knocked on doors his whole life. There weren’t any tenement apartments in New York with doorbells.

“I’ll get it,” Ron said.

“No, no, I’ll get it,” Jack said as he once again almost fell off the chair.

“Then I’ll go with you,” Ron said as he caught Jack on his right side and steadied him. Together they went to the front door. Ron opened it to find two Oakville police officers standing there.

“Officers, can I help you?” Jack said.

“Are you Jack Tobin?”

“In the flesh.”

It was apparent to the two cops that Jack was drunk since he was swaying back and forth, and Ron was still holding his right arm.

“We have been asked to give you a message by Assistant Chief Martin. He says to tell you that you might want to go back home,” one of the officers said.

“What did he mean by that statement?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know,” the same cop answered.

The other cop spoke for the first time. “A lot of people in this town are angry about what happened and they blame him,” he said, pointing at Jack.

That explanation didn’t make a lot of sense to Ron. Cops coming to give a message to somebody to get out of town because the town folk were angry. It sounded like a scene from an old Western.

“Where’s Sam Jeffries? Why didn’t he tell you to deliver the message?” Ron asked.

“Nobody’s seen him since he got the news. I was the one who told him. He didn’t take it well,” the officer who had spoken first told Ron.

“What do you mean nobody’s seen him? Is he home?”

“No sir,” the first cop continued. “His son is looking for him, too. Assistant Chief Martin is very concerned.”

“Maybe he’s in Miami making funeral arrangements.”

“No, sir. The son took care of that. They’re shipping the body here for the funeral and the burial.”

So that was it. They weren’t worried about Jack. They were worried that Sam Jeffries might kill Jack. At least that made sense.

“Would you give Chief Jeffries my apologies?” Jack muttered. “Tell him I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch client of mine myself.”

“I wouldn’t be making statements like that if I were you, Mr. Tobin,” the second cop said.

To Ron’s relief, Jack didn’t answer. Jack didn’t need to be making any more statements to the police in his current condition. Ron needed to end this conversation.

“Thank you, officers,” he said. “And thank Assistant Chief Martin for his concern. I can assure you Jack will be relocating based on his advice.”

Ron politely but firmly closed the door.

“What was that about? I’m not relocating,” Jack said.

“I think you should. That was about Assistant Chief Martin telling you in a very subtle way that Sam Jeffries is temporarily out of his mind and that he may come looking for you.”

“He should.”

“Come on, Jack, stop that nonsense. Look, I’ve got another condo about two miles from here on the east side of town. It’s fully furnished. You just need to take your clothes. Why don’t we do that right now.”

“Okay,” Jack said to Ron’s complete surprise. He’d expected an argument. “I need a change of scenery anyway,” Jack continued, still slurring his words.

“I’ll drive you over,” Ron said. “And I’ll pick you up in the morning and drive you to get your car.”

It was an excuse to check on him the next morning.