Even the Wicked

Your doing, I understand."

"Not really. I made a couple of strategic suggestions and gave him a number to call."

"He says he's wearing body armor."

"He's supposed to be," I said, "and I wish he'd keep his mouth shut about it. If a shooter knows you're wearing it, he'll go for a head shot instead."

"Well, Will's not going to hear it from me. Of course, we don't know who Will is, do we?"

"If we did," I said, "he'd cease to be a problem."

"For all you know," he said, "I could be Will myself."

"Hmmm. No, I don't think so."

"What makes you so sure?"

"His letters," I said. "They're too elegantly phrased."

"You son of a bitch. He does have a way with words, though, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"Almost makes a man want to get a letter from him. Here's something I'm not proud of. You know my immediate reaction when I saw the open letter to Adrian?"

"You figured it should have been you."

"Now how the hell did you know that? Or am I more transparent than I ever thought?"

"Well, what else would you be ashamed of?"

"I didn't say I was ashamed. I said I wasn't proud of it."

"I stand corrected."

"It's true, though. You remember how many actors it takes to change a light bulb?"

"I heard it but I forget."

"Five. One to climb the ladder and four to say 'That should be me up there!' Trial lawyers aren't all that different. In this case, my friend, you could say I've been auditioning for the part my whole professional career. Who's the most hated man in New York?"

"Walter O'Malley."

"Walter O'Malley? Who the hell… oh, the cocksucker who moved the Dodgers out of Brooklyn. He's dead, isn't he?"

"I certainly hope so."

"You're an unforgiving son of a bitch, aren't you? Forget Walter O'Malley. Who's the most hated lawyer in New York?"

"If that's another joke, the answer is they all are."

"The answer, as you well know, is Raymond Gruliow."

"Hard-Way Ray."

"You said it. I'm the one with the most loathsome clients, the ones you love to hate. Wasn't it Will Rogers who said he never met a man he didn't like?"

"Whoever it was, I'd say he didn't get out much."

"And he never met my list of clients. Arab terrorists, black radicals, psychotic mass murderers. Warren Madison, who only shot half a dozen New York police officers. Who did Whitfield ever defend who can compare to Warren Madison?"

"Richie Vollmer," I said. "For openers."

"Warren Madison's as bad as Richie Vollmer. You blame the system for Vollmer's acquittal. For Warren, you have to blame the lawyer."

" 'He said humbly.' "

"Forget humble. Humility's no asset in this line of work. You know the Chinese curse, my friend? 'May you be represented by a humble attorney.' You think our friend Adrian's going to be all right?"

"I don't know."

"Will's taking his time. This is the longest he's let it slide, isn't it?

Between the open letter and the payoff.

Maybe it's because Adrian's better protected, harder to get to."

"Maybe."

"Or he could be tired of the game. Or for all we know he could have stepped in front of a bus."

"Or he could have been sitting on a park bench," I said, "and somebody could have shot him by mistake."

"Somebody who didn't even know who he was."

"Why not?"

"Why not indeed? You're not thinking about that friend of a friend you mentioned, guy got gunned down on Horatio Street."

"Well, that's probably where the park bench came from," I admitted, "but I think we can safely rule out Byron Leopold. It was a full day's work for him to walk across the street and pick out a bench to sit on."

"So you've made a little progress, my friend. You've ruled one man out."

"I've ruled you out, too."

"Decent of you."

"And myself," I said, "because if I was Will I'd remember. And Elaine, because if she'd done anything like that I'm sure she would have told me."

"Because the two of you have an open and honest relationship."

"Absolutely," I said. "And Marty McGraw."

"What kind of a relationship have you got with him?"

"None," I said, "but I ruled him out. He was addressing a dinner of Police Athletic League supporters while Will was taking out Patsy Salerno up in the Bronx, and he was right here in New York when Roswell Berry got his in Omaha."

"Aborted in the fourth trimester," Ray said. "He mention this in a column? I must have missed it."

"I checked him out myself."

"Seriously?"

"Adrian said something about Marty wanting an exclusive interview," I said, "and in the next breath explained he'd wanted to do it over the phone, not face to face. But that put the idea in my head. I figured the police would have checked him out six different ways, but I couldn't see how it would hurt to see for myself."

"The whole business has been good for McGraw, hasn't it? I can see how he'd want to keep the pot bubbling. But he didn't do it."

"I'm afraid not."

"And neither did you or I or Elaine, or all the guys recovering from bypass surgery. Or your friend who got shot, but it could have been somebody else who got shot or stabbed or fell off a building. Will, the world's foremost anonymous killer, could have been iced by somebody who didn't even know who he was."