Home > The Client(95)

The Client(95)
Author: John Grisham

"I'm not lying, Reggie," Trumann insisted, thinking of the same damned tape.

There was a long pause in which he heard nothing but her breathing. "Just you and K. O. Lewis," she said. "No one else. If Foltrigg shows up, all deals are off." "I swear." She hung up. Trumann immediately called K. O. Lewis at the Hilton. Then he called McThune in Memphis.

EXACTLY FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, TRUMANN AND Lewis walked nervously into the near empty grill at the Raintree Inn. Reggie waited at a table in the corner, far away from anyone. Her hair was wet and she wore no makeup. A bulky tee shirt with LSU TIGERS in purple letters was tucked into a pair of faded jeans. She sipped black coffee, and neither stood nor smiled as they approached and sat opposite her.

"Good morning, Ms. Love," Lewis said in an attempt to be nice.

"It's Reggie, okay, and it's too early for pleasantries. Are we alone?" "Of course," Lewis said. At that moment eight FBI agents were guarding the parking lot, and more were on the way.

"No bugs, wire, body mikes, salt shakers, or ketchup bottles?" "None." A waiter appeared, and they ordered coffee.

"Where's the kid?" Trumann asked.

"He's around. You'll see him soon enough." "Is he safe?" "Of course he's safe. You boys couldn't catch him if he was on the streets begging for food." She handed Lewis a piece of paper. "These are the names of three psychiatric hospitals that specialize in children. Battenwood in Rockford, Illinois. Ridge-wood in Tallahassee. And Grant's Clinic in Phoenix. Any one of the three will do." Their eyes went slowly. from her face to the list. They focused and studied it. "But we've already checked with the clinic in Portland," Lewis said, puzzled.

"I don't care where you've checked, Mr. Lewis. Take this list, and check again. I suggest you do it quickly. Call Washington, get them out of bed, and get it done." He folded the list and placed it under his elbow. "You, uh, you say you've seen the body," he asked, trying to sound authoritative but failing miserably.

She smiled. "I have. Less than three hours ago. Muldanno's men were trying to get it, but we scared them off." "We?" "Mark and I." They both studied her intently, and waited for the precious details of this wild, impossible little story. The coffee arrived, and they ignored both it and the waiter.

"We're not eating," Reggie said rudely, and the waiter left.

"Here's the deal," she said. "There are a few provisions, none of which are in the least bit negotiable. Do it my way, do it now, and you might get the body before Muldanno carries it away and drops it in the ocean. If you blow it, gentlemen, I doubt you'll ever get this close again." They nodded furiously.

"Did you fly here on a private jet?" she asked Lewis.

"Yes. It's the director's." "How many does it seat?" "Twenty or so." "Gobd. Send it back to Memphis right now. I want you to pick up Dianne and Ricky Sway, along with his doctor and Clint. Fly them here immediately. McThune is welcome to come. We'll meet them at the airport, and when Mark is safely on board and the plane is gone, I'll tell you where the body is. How about it so far?" "No problem," Lewis said. Trumann was speechless.

"The entire family enters the witness protection plan. First, they pick the hospital, and when Ricky is able to move, they'll pick the city." "No problem." "Complete change of identification, nice little house, the works. This woman needs to stay home and raise her kids for a while, so I'd suggest a monthly allowance in the sum of four thousand dollars, guaranteed for three years. Plus an initial cash outlay of twenty-five thousand. They lost everything in the fire, remember?" "Of course. These things are easy." Lewis was so eager, she wished she'd asked for more.

"If, at some point, she wants to return to work, then I'd suggest a nice, cushy government job with no responsibilities, short hours, and a fat salary." "We have plenty of those." "Should they desire to move at any time, ana 10 any place, they'll be allowed to do so, at your expense, of course." "We do it all the time." Trumann was smiling now, though he was trying not to.

"She"U need a car." "No problem." "Ricky may need extended treatment." "We'll cover it." "I want Mark examined by a psychiatrist, though I suspect he's in better shape than we are." "Done." "There are a couple of other minor matters, and they'll be covered in the agreement." "What agreement?" "The agreement I'm having typed as we speak. It'll be signed by myself, Dianne Sway, Judge Harry Roosevelt, and you, Mr. Lewis, on behalf of Director Voyles." "What else is in the agreement?" Lewis asked.

"I want your assurance that you'll do everything in your power to compel the attendance of Roy Fol-trigg before the Juvenile Court of Shelby County, Tennessee. Judge Roosevelt will want to discuss a few matters with him, and I'm sure Foltrigg will resist. If a subpoena is issued for him, I want it served by you, Mr. Trumann." "Gladly," Trumann said with a nasty smile.

"We'll do what we can," Lewis added, a bit confused.

"Good. Go make your phone calls. Get the plane in the air. Call McThune and tell him to pick up Glint Van Hooser and take him to the hospital. Get that damned bug off her phone, because I need to talk to her." "No problem." They jumped to their feet.

"We'll meet right here in thirty minutes,"

CLINT HAMMERED AWAY ON HIS ANCIENT ROYAL PORTABLE.

His third cup of coffee shook each time he slapped the return and rattled the kitchen table. He studied his hurried chicken-scratch handwriting on the back of an Esquire, and tried to remember each provision as she'd spouted it over the phone. If he finished it, it would be, without a doubt, the sloppiest legal document ever prepared. He cursed and grabbed the Liquid Paper.

A knock on the door startled him. He ran his fingers through his unkempt and unwashed hair, and walked to the door. "Who is it?" "FBI." Not so loud, he almost said. He could hear the neighbors now, gossiping about him and his predawn arrest. Probably drugs, they would say.

He cracked the door and peeked under the safety chain. Two agents with puffy eyes stood in the darkness. "We were told to come get you," one said apologetically.

"I need some ID." They stuck their badges near the door. "FBI," the first one said.

Clint opened the door wider, and waved them in. "I'll be a few more minutes. Have a seat." They stood awkwardly in the center of the den as he returned to the table and the typewriter. He pecked slowly. The chicken scratch failed him, and he ad-libbed the rest. The important points were there, he hoped. She always found something to change in his typing at the office, but this would have to do. He pulled it carefully from the Royal, and placed it in a small briefcase.

"Let's go," he said.

AT FIVE -  FORTY, TRUMANN RETURNED ALONE TO THE TAble where Reggie waited. He brought two cellular phones. "Thought we might need these," he said.

"Where'd you get them?" Reggie asked.

"They were delivered to us here." "By some of your men?" "That's right." "Just for fun, how many men do you have right now within a quarter of a mile of this place?" "I don't know. Twelve or thirteen. It's routine, Reggie. They might be needed. We'll send a few to protect the kid, if you'll tell me where he is. I assume he's alone." "He's alone, and he's fine. Did you talk to Mc-Thune?" "Yes. They've already picked up Glint." "That was fast." "Well, to be honest, we've had men watching his apartment for twenty-four hours now. We simply woke them up, and told them to knock on his door. We found your car, Reggie, but we couldn't find Glint's." "I'm driving it." "That's what I figured. Pretty slick, but we would've found you within twenty-four hours." "Don't be so cocky, Trumann. You've been looking for Boyette for eight months." "True. How'd the kid escape?" "It's a long story. I'll save it for later." "You could be implicated, you know." "Not if you guys sign our little agreement." "We'll sign it, don't worry." One of the phones rang, and Trumann grabbed it. As he listened, K. O. Lewis hurried to the table and brought his own cellular phone. He jumped into his chair, and leaned across the table, his eyes glowing with excitement. "Talked to Washington. We're checking the hospitals right now. Everything looks fine. Director Voyles will call here in a minute. He'll probably want to talk to you." "How about the plane?" Lewis checked his watch. "It's leaving now, should be in Memphis by six-thirty." Trumann placed a hand over his phone. "This is McThune. He's at the hospital waiting for Dr. Green-way and the administrator. They've made contact with Judge Roosevelt, and he's on his way down there." "Have you de-bugged her phone?" Reggie asked.

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