Big Easy Bonanza

support. Great circles of perspiration suddenly appeared on his shirt.
    “You will never,” shouted the judge, “never, never, take off your coat in my courtroom. If you ever seek to practice in my courtroom again without your coat on, I will cite you for contempt and have you ejected by the bailiff.” Never mind that there was no bailiff present among the dramatis personae; the point was made. Reggie dove for his coat and got into it posthaste.
    “You may continue,” the judge said, mildly. And Reggie did, in a weak voice, but he kept it short. He never repeated the mistake. In fact, Tubby noticed that over the years, you hardly ever saw Reggie without a coat, a blazer, or at least a sweater covering his shoulders. If he was caught somewhere where it would look odd, like on a beach or a golf course, Reggie might let his shirtsleeves show, but he seemed ill at ease when he did.
    Tubby and Reggie rarely crossed paths after graduation, since Tubby concentrated on trial work and Reggie was generally allergic to courtrooms. They kept track of each other through their wives, who were both active in the Friends of the New Orleans Museum of Art. The Pan Am airplane crash in Kenner brought them back together professionally.
    Reggie had inserted himself into the plaintiffs’ team, though he made no pretense—to the other lawyers at least—that he knew anything whatsoever about personal injury law. One of the bereaved families there were about two hundred of them had hired Reggie, due to some misunderstanding of his competence, which gave him the right to sit at the counsel table. He immediately began organizing the lawyers, moderating such questions as to how to apportion shares of the recovery and who would do the actual work, and negotiating with insurance companies. Whenever there is money in the parish, the politicians get theirs, and Reggie helped to cut up and serve that piece of the soufflé, too. Inspired by the proximity of their husbands, the wives arranged a dinner together, and then a lake trip, and everybody became friends. When the complicated financial settlement was finally reached, Reggie did very well. As did Tubby, who actually put in a lot of courtroom hours and handled several depositions and witnesses. Over drinks at the celebration dinner in the Rex Room at Antoine’s, beneath the framed portraits of past Carnival royalty going back through decades of civic service, the two victors decided to throw in together.
    Since Tubby’s and Mattie’s divorce, however, they hardly ever saw each other after hours, but they got along fine as partners. They didn’t argue about money, but split it all. Tubby sometimes thought Reggie got the better of the deal, just because he never saw Reggie working very hard. But he had a talent for bringing in the business. And, to be honest, Reggie was better at collecting his bills than Tubby was. Whenever a new client found the firm, Reggie would smile and say, “Pennies from heaven,” and he would keep smiling till they fell.
    This morning Reggie was in Tubby’s office wanting to talk about Darryl Alvarez, a client he had given to Tubby. Darryl, Tubby knew, was the manager of a bar at the lakefront and always had plenty of cash. He flashed it for lots of politicos and Jefferson Parish real estate developers, who all loved Darryl, and since Reggie hung out with the same group of pals, he loved Darryl, too. Darryl was great for free meals, tickets to Saints games at the Dome, and tips on horse races. He also made a buena margarita. But, Reggie had sadly told Tubby a couple of weeks before, Darryl had a problem.
    He had been caught with a new Ford wide-body pickup truck in Terrebonne Parish, unloading fifteen bales of marijuana from a shrimp boat. Where it had started its journey was anybody’s guess, but it ended with Darryl staring into a DEA agent’s spotlight. He called Reggie from the Parish Jail. Reggie, like most of Darryl’s buddies, suddenly didn’t want to know him at all, but he did at least wake Tubby up at home. Tubby drove down early in the morning. It took a while, but he eventually got the bond lowered from its initial million dollars to a measly $150,000. By some means Tubby never learned about, Darryl got a bondsman to post the bail, and he was soon back in his nightclub.
    Reggie wanted to know how Darryl’s case was coming, and Tubby told him.
    “I offered Fred Stanley, the U.S. Attorney, five years, simple possession, but he laughed.