The Anonymous Client

had turned out his client was actually guilty. Sheila had asked him if he’d have done it if he’d known, and he’d said no. And he’d believed that too.
    So what the hell was he doing? Here he was defending two clients, one of whom was almost certainly guilty. How could he justify that? Why was he doing it?
    Well, he knew why. He was doing it because some idiotic, romantic fool had sent him an anonymous retainer from some plot ripped off from a storybook, and he’d been placed in a position where he had to either defend him or risk being disbarred. That was why.
    Or was it?
    He’d risked disbarment before. He wasn’t a squeamish guy. If he thought he was right, he’d wade right in and let the chips fall where they may. So he wasn’t in this just to cover his ass. That was too easy an explanation. Too easy a way out. Too pat an answer to a moral dilemma. If he was in this, he was in it by choice. He’d chosen to defend these two people. To try to get them off.
    Well, why not? Everyone’s entitled to representation. A lawyer isn’t a judge and jury. It isn’t a lawyer’s place to try to decide if a client’s innocent or guilty. Legally, ethically, morally, Steve had every right to do what he was doing.
    So why did he feel like shit?
    Steve paid off the cab and took the elevator up to his office. Tracy Garvin would be manning the desk. Steve felt a twinge of resentment. She’d want to pump him for information, and he just didn’t feel like dragging through the whole story again.
    Steve realized he was being unkind. Tracy Garvin might be a young, silly, twit of a girl, but why shouldn’t she be interested.
    Steve Winslow pushed open the office door and knew at once that he’d been reprieved. Tracy Garvin’s face was animated.
    “I tried to reach you at Fitzpatrick’s. Mark Taylor called. Said it was urgent.”
    “Get him,” Steve said.
    Steve walked into his office, flopped down at his desk. One light on the phone was on, so Steve picked it up and pushed that button. He heard Tracy Garvin’s voice asking for Mark Taylor, and seconds later Taylor came on the line.
    “Taylor.”
    “It’s Tracy. Hold on for Steve.”
    “I’m on,” Steve said. “What is it, Mark?”
    “I got something hot I’d rather not talk about on the phone. You in your office?”
    “Yeah.”
    “I’ll be right down.”
    Steve Winslow hung up the phone. Thank god, he thought. Let it be a break. Something. Anything. Get me off the hook.
    Minutes later, Tracy Garvin opened the door.
    “Mark Taylor’s here.”
    Taylor pushed by her into the room. Tracy trailed in behind him with a steno pad.
    “You’ll be wanting notes?” she said.
    Steve was about to say yes, largely due to the uncharitable thoughts he’d had toward her earlier, when Mark Taylor said, “No. I’m sorry, Tracy, but this is something I’ve got to talk to Steve about alone.”
    Tracy bit her lip, pouted, and went out, closing the door.
    “I think you just blew your love life,” Steve said. “What’s so important?”
    Mark Taylor took a breath and blew it out again. He shook his head. He did not look happy. “Steve, look. I’m working for you. You’re my client. I gotta protect you. But I got a moral dilemma here.”
    “Well, let’s have it.”
    “Look, Steve. You know I got a pipeline into police headquarters. Well, that man is very important to me. So important, I don’t want to use his name, if you know what I mean. Well, he gave me some information and it’s hot. The thing is, it’s too hot. It’s burning. And because of that, no one’s supposed to know about it.”
    Steve looked at Mark impatiently. “So?”
    “So, if I tell you, you’ll know. And if you use it, people will know you know. And they’ll want to know how you found out. And the thing is, this information is so protected, there are only a few sources it could have come from. You see what I mean? There’s a good chance my man’s cover could be blown.”
    Steve frowned. “I see.”
    “Look,” Mark said. “I know you’re a lawyer. You can’t make any promises. You gotta do what’s best for your clients. But I’m begging you. If I tell you this, if there’s any way you can, don’t use it.”
    Steve shook his head. “Jesus, Mark.”
    “I know, I know,” Mark said. “It’s a bitch. So?”
    Steve shook his head. “You said it yourself. I can’t make any promises. You wanna tell me or not?”
    Mark sighed. “I can’t hold it out. It’s a murder case.