Dead Certain

to be able to catch a break,” sighed Elliott as we pulled apart and drifted to our respective places. His desk was an antique deal table of well-worn oak with an old-fashioned wooden office chair to go along with it. Behind him was an antique telescope in perfect working condition, a gift from a grateful client.
    “So what are you doing back in town?” I asked. “Did you get a summary judgment?”
    “No. The judge is giving her instructions to the jury this afternoon, but Carlson thinks that the earliest we’ll get a verdict is tomorrow afternoon. I was worried because I jobbed out that background investigation you needed on Cypress Computer, that outfit out of Seattle, and I wanted to check in and see how things are going. I know how important this computer thing is to you.”
    “As it turns out we don’t need the information anymore,” I said. “I’m sorry. The good news is we were able to make a deal without it. The even better news is that my client will be able to pay whatever bill you send them.”
    “That good?”
    “That good. But I’m still sorry you made the trip for nothing.”
    “I had to come back anyway to get some work started for a new client. As soon as I finish up, I’ll be heading back to Springfield to help keep the vigil.”
    Never having been a trial lawyer, I’ve never had to endure the suspended animation of waiting out the verdict. However, I’d heard enough from other people to understand the reasons the legal team needed to suffer through it together. For everyone who’d worked on the trial, the agony of waiting rendered even the simplest of tasks beyond their attention and made them unfit to be with normal people. I imagined them filling in the hours back at the Ramada pacing the halls and talking over the evidence and arguments of the trial. Suddenly I felt ashamed for barging over like a spoiled child and demanding my share of Elliott’s attention.
    “So who’s your new client?” I asked.
    “Your mother.”
     

CHAPTER 16
     
    “Please tell me that you’re kidding,” I begged.
    “What’s the big deal? I get assignments from Denise all the time. She wants us to do a quick backgrounder on HCC.”
    “I understand, but it seems weird to think of you working for my mother,” I sighed.
    “In my experience it never hurts to have Mom on your side,” Elliott pointed out with a sly grin that immediately brought to mind thoughts that would have made my mother blush.
    “So what have you dug up?”
    “I’ve had people working the phones since yesterday, talking to anybody who’s had dealings with HCC. We started out targeting transactions that are similar to the one they’re attempting with Prescott Memorial.”
    “So what have you found out? Anything?”
    “Well, for one thing, there’s no shortage of people eager to talk to us. Usually people are reluctant to spill their guts when they get a phone call from an investigator out of the blue, but apparently the people who’ve been burned by HCC are just panting to tell their stories. One of my people suggested that we bill the people she’s talked to, charging them for a therapy hour.”
    “So who have you talked to?”
    “Mostly doctors and hospital administrators. Like I said, the problem isn’t getting these people to talk, it’s getting them to shut up.”
    “So what are they saying?”
    “Basically that HCC is a take-no-prisoners operation.“
    “There’s no law against being ruthless,” I reminded him. “True. But there’s ruthless and then there’s breaking the rules.”
    “Any proof that HCC has done the latter?”
    “Do you know what it says below Gerald Packman’s picture in his high school yearbook?”
    “Please tell me that you didn’t actually check to find this out.... No, I take that back, tell me that you’re not billing me for the time it took to find this out.”
    “Are we thorough or what?” he countered, smiling. “Under his picture it says, ‘If you aren’t cheating, you aren’t trying.’ ”
    “I don’t think I want to live in a world where people are held accountable for what it says in their yearbooks. As I recall, I think I quoted some Warren Zevon lyrics. You know the one: Send lawyers, guns, and money. Dad get me out of this.”
    “It’s just interesting in light of a common thread that seems to be popping up in a lot of these interviews.“
    “Which is?”
    “People keep hinting that one of the reasons that HCC is always able to close their deals so