Todd managed to eat with an unconcerned air. “You are quite the stalker, aren’t you?”
“Not really. It’s none of my business. Just seems odd.”
Todd smiled while at the same time wanting to slap the smile off her face. “Well, we’re hiring if you ever get tired of the prosecutor’s routine.”
“I’m not sure we’d get much work done around the office. You do have an office, don’t you? I know you have an address, but anybody can claim a street number.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Nothing. Just curious.”
“Have you shared your curiosity with anyone else?”
“No. I doubt if anyone else has noticed. You’ve picked the perfect place to practice, with or without a license. It’s a zoo and no one cares. However, just a bit of advice, I’d stay away from old Witherspoon in Division 7. He’s nosier than most judges.”
“Thanks. Anyone else to avoid?”
“Not really. Just don’t avoid me. Now that I’m onto your little scam, I’ll help when I can.”
“You’re a doll.”
“That’s what they all say.”
—
MARK WAS SERVING drinks at The Rooster Bar when Todd rolled in at noon. Todd punched the clock, put on his official red apron, and filled a few mugs. At the first opportunity, he pulled his partner aside and said, “Houston, we have a problem.”
“Only one?”
“I was with Miss Hadley again last night.”
“You dog. I was out looking for her.”
“I found her first. Had a little chat this morning over breakfast. She’s onto our scam, knows we’re not licensed, checked with the Bar Council. She knows where we didn’t go to law school.”
“Damn it.”
“My first reaction too. However, she might be cool, says she hasn’t told anyone and likes to keep secrets. Even offered to help when possible.”
“What does she want?”
“More of the same, I think. She and her roommate are really into the random hookup game. It’s all about numbers.”
Mark managed a laugh, but it wasn’t because of anything humorous. “Wonder if they’re busy tonight.”
“I’ll bet they are, with someone else.”
Mark said, “Shit!” and walked away to take an order. Todd was drying beer mugs when he brushed by and said, “This feels like the beginning of the end.”
—
LATE SUNDAY NIGHT, Ramon Taper was arrested for driving under the influence. He was taken to Central Jail, where he spent the night in the drunk tank. Monday morning, his girlfriend arrived to check on him. As she waited, she met one Darrell Cromley, a friendly lawyer who seemed right at home in the waiting room at Central. In short order, Cromley arranged for Ramon to be released on a recognition bond. Outside the jail, as Darrell was going through his standard routine of explaining what was next, Ramon said, “Say, man, I got a lawyer but he’s trying to dodge me.”
“A lawyer for what?” Darrell said, pouncing.
“I got a big case down in Virginia, medical malpractice. My little baby died at the hospital a couple of years back and I hired this crook named Mark Upshaw. Ever hear of him?”
“No, but there’s a lot of lawyers around here you can’t trust.”
“He ain’t much, I tell you. I need to fire him but I can’t find him. You do medical malpractice?”
“It’s one of my specialties. Tell me about the case.”
29
Two days later, Mark was sitting in the courtroom of the Honorable Fiona Dalrymple, waiting for a client who would plead guilty to shoplifting. As usual, he pretended to review an important document while watching the lawyers come and go as their cases were called. It was a zoo all right, with the monkeys firmly in control. Some of the faces were familiar, others he’d never seen before, and once again he marveled at the number of lawyers it took to keep the wheels of justice churning along. A blast from the past appeared in a hideous suit and scanned the courtroom, the way all lawyers did when they wanted to be seen. He walked through the bar, chatted with an assistant prosecutor who looked around, saw Mark, and nodded.
Darrell Cromley walked over and sat down next to Mark. He thrust over a business card and said softly, “I’m Darrell Cromley, and you’re Mark Upshaw, right?”
We’ve met before, Mark thought, and this cannot be good. “That’s right.”
“I’ve been hired by Ramon Taper. Let’s step outside and talk.”
Mark glanced at his business card. Darrell Cromley, Personal Injury. He specifically remembered that his other card was for Darrell Cromley, DUI Specialist. Darrell must be a man of many talents.
In the hallway, Darrell was all business as he delivered the dreaded news. “My firm has been hired by Mr. Taper, who had the misfortune of getting picked up while driving under the influence.”
So that’s the connection. Cromley froze and looked at Mark closely. “Have we met before? You sure look familiar.”
“Haven’t had the pleasure. There are a lot of lawyers around here.”
“I guess so,” Darrell said, still not convinced. He whipped out some paperwork from his battered briefcase and handed it to Mark. “Here’s a copy of our contract with Mr. Taper, along with a letter from him terminating your representation. We’ve spent the last two days investigating his med mal case down in Virginia, and it seems as though the statute of limitations has expired. You’re aware of that, right?”
“Sure. We looked at the case and had it reviewed by a doctor. He said there’s no negligence. It’s a dead end.” Mark felt a slight weakness in his knees as his heart pounded away.
“Well, it’s certainly dead now that the statute has run. Did you guys file a quickie lawsuit to toll the statute?”
“Of course not. There’s no liability. A lawsuit is a waste of time.”
Darrell shook his head, frustrated, as if he were dealing with an idiot. Mark wanted to hit him but thought better of it. A veteran street hustler like Cromley was probably a pretty fair brawler himself.
“We’ll see about that,” Cromley said like a real tough guy. “First, I want the medical records. I’ll have them reviewed by a real expert, and if there’s even a hint of liability, then your goose is cooked, pal.”
“It’s a dead end, Darrell.”
“If I were you, I’d put my errors-and-omissions carrier on notice.”
“So you’d sue another lawyer?”
“Damned right, if the facts are there. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.”
“I’m sure you would.”
“Send the records over, okay?”
At that moment, a frightened young woman approached them and asked, “Say, are you guys lawyers?”
Mark was too paralyzed to speak. Darrell, though, was quick on the draw. With his frown, he said, “Sure, what’s the problem?”
Mark backed away and left them to their business.
—