Death Turns A Trick (Rebecca Schwartz #1) (A Rebecca Schwartz Mystery) (The Rebecca Schwartz Series)

from the receiver like ice water. “Are you sure he has competent legal counsel?”
    Did I need that?
    I counted to ten, quick, and didn’t decide till I got to seven whether or not to let her get away with it. “Mrs. Phillips,” I said finally, trying not to sound as icy as she had, “I know you’ve had several bad shocks today, so perhaps you aren’t aware that you’re being insulting.”
    “I beg your pardon,” she said. “I didn’t realize what I was saying. I suppose I had a snobbish urge for a—for someone well known. There is a criminal lawyer named Isaac Schwartz, I believe, who…”
    “He’s my father,” I said.
    “Oh. Well then. You must be with the same firm.”
    “No, but I’ll see that Parker has the best advice I can give him. If he isn’t satisfied, he can fire me. Fair enough?”
    “Very well. Thank you for calling.”
    My hand shook as I put down the phone. Why had I admitted Isaac Schwartz was my father? Hoping a little of the glory would rub off on me? Bad form, Rebecca. And a thoroughly unpleasant encounter. I didn’t know what ailed Mrs. Phillips, but I supposed she was either rich or well-born. One or both of these things sometimes makes for haughtiness.
    I turned on the TV and didn’t see myself. Then I went into the bathroom to start getting ready for dinner with Jeannette, pausing to squeeze the rug at the bottom and pluck a few more feathers off.
    Jeannette always wanted to dine at the Washington Square Bar and Grill. This is a North Beach hangout that has not won coast-to-coast acclaim for its fine food, but its clientele is supposed to be very “in.” And since Jeannette was very “in,” she liked to be seen there. The place is a plum-colored womb with white tablecloths, dark wood, and plenty of light, so everyone can see who’s there.
    I walked the five or six blocks from my house, preceding Jeannette by about five minutes. She bustled in, arms flying, making her purple cape a perpetual motion machine that slapped at passing waiters. “I simply cannot believe it about Kandi! We were all together not two hours before it must have happened, and then you…” She stopped, apparently to spare my feelings.
    “You heard it on the radio?” I asked.
    “Yes. Tell me everything.”
    “Let’s sit down first. Did you make a reservation?”
    She had. In moments, we were seated at a good table with a liter of white wine on the way. For the umpteenth time, I told my story. The wine came, and we both ordered petrale, and it came.
    Jeannette was properly impressed with the yarn. When I had supplied every scarifying detail she asked for—except, of course, Senator Handley’s identity—I asked about the proposition she’d mentioned the night before.
    “It’s this way,” she said. “We need a lobbyist. We’ve been using one of our members, and she’s been reasonably effective, but she wants out. She says the legislators don’t take her seriously because she’s been a prostitute. And furthermore, they expect her to put out. Can you beat that?”
    “I’m supposed to be surprised?”
    She ignored me. “The stigma follows you for the rest of your life. No one ever thinks of you as Jeannette, with a mother and dad in Iowa, or Jeannette with a degree in English lit; they just think of you as Jeannette the prostitute. Does that seem fair to you?”
    “It only makes sense. People think of me as a lawyer. So what?”
    “It’s another example of horizontal hostility. And male chauvinism as well.”
    “I think it’s an act of male chauvinism for a legislator to proposition a female lobbyist, but I can also see the problem of getting him to take an ex-prostitute seriously. I’m sorry, Jeannette, but it’s cultural bias and you’re stuck with it.”
    “Well, that’s what I’m getting to. We don’t want to replace her with another member. How would you like the job?”
    “What, you’re not satisfied with my work?”
    “We are very satisfied with your work. Otherwise, I wouldn’t ask. You’re well known and well respected. And we can trust you.”
    I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m one of those rare people who actually like their work. No sense taking any chances.”
    “That’s what I thought you’d say, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. Can you recommend anybody?”
    “Not offhand. I’ll give it some thought. Right now, I’ve kind of got my mind on other things. Would you mind if I pumped you about Kandi?”
    “Not at all. Though I didn’t know her