"Eight."
"You got any?" Link asked Spicer.
"No. None today;" Spicer replied.
"I'll be outside;" Link said.
The door closed; feet shuffled, and suddenly there was silence. A very long silence. Nothing. Not a word between lawyer and client. They waited in the white van for an eternity, until it was obvious something had gone wrong.
As Link stepped from the small room, Trevor quickly and deftly set the briefcase outside the door, on the floor, where it rested benignly during the remainder of the attorney-client conference. Link noticed it, and thought nothing about it.
"What'd you do that for?" Spicer asked.
"It's empty;" Trevor said, shrugging. "Let the closed circuit see it.We have nothing to hide."Trevor had had one final, brief attack of ethics. Maybe he'd bug the next chat with his client, but not this one. He'd simply tell Wes and Chap that the guard took his briefcase, something that happened occasionally.
"Whatever;" Spicer said, rifing through the mail until he came to two envelopes that were slightly thicker. "Is this the money?"
"It is. I had to use some hundreds."
"Why? I plainly said twenties and fifties."
"That's all I could find, okay. I didn't anticipate needing that much cash."
Joe Roy studied the addresses on the other letters. Then he asked, rather caustically, "So what happened in Washington?"
"It's a tough one. One of those rent-a-box outfits in the suburbs, open twenty-four hours, seven days a week, always somebody on duty, lots of traffic. Security is tight. We'll figure it out."
"Who are you using?"
"Some outfit in Chevy Chase."
"Gimme a name."
"Whatta you mean, gimme a name?"
"Give me the name of the investigator in Chevy Chase."
Trevor drew a blank; invention failed him. Spicer was on to something, his dark liquid eyes gloving with intensity. "I can't remember;'Trevor said.
"Where'd you stay?"
"What is this, joe Roy?"
"Give me the name of your hotel."
"Why?"
"I have the right to know. I'm the client. I'm paying for your expenses. Where did you stay?"
"Ritz-Canton."
"Which one?"
"I don't know The Ritz-Canton."
"There are two.Which one was it?"
"I don't know. Not downtown."
"What flight did you take?"
"Come on, joe Roy What is this?"
"What airline?"
"Delta."
"The flight number?"
"I don't remember."
"You got back yesterday. Less than twenty-four hours ago. What was your flight number?"
"I don't recall."
"Are you sure you went to Washington?"
"Of course I went;'Trevor said, but his voice broke a little from a lack of sincerity. He had not planned his lies, and they were breaking down as fast as he put them up.
"You don't know your flight number, which hotel you stayed in, or the name of the investigator you spent the last two days with.You must think I'm stupid."
Trevor didn't answer. He could only think of the mike in the briefcase and how lucky he was to have it outside. Getting flogged like this was something he'd rather Wes and Chap not hear.
"You've been drinking, haven't you?" Spicer asked, on the attack.
"Yes,"Trevor said, a temporary pause in the lying. "I stopped and bought a beer."
"Or Two"
"Yes, two."
Spicer leaned on his elbows, his face halfway across the table. "I got some bad news for you, Trevor.You're fired."
"What?"
"Terminated. Sacked. Gone for good."
"You can't fire me."
"I just did. Effective immediately. By unanimous vote of the Brethren. We're notifying the warden so your name will be removed from the list of attorneys. When you leave today Trevor, don't come back."
"Why?"
"Lying, drinking too much, sloppy habits, a general lack of trust on behalf of your clients."
It sounded true enough, but Trevor nevertheless took it hard. It had never crossed his mind that they'd have the guts to fire him. He clenched his teeth and asked, "What about our little enterprise?"
"It's a clean break.You keep your money, we'll keep ours."
"Who'll run it on the outside?"
"We'll worry about that. You can pursue an honest living, if you're able."
"What would you know about an honest living?"
"Why don't you just leave, Trevor? Get up, walk out, it's been lovely."
"Sure;" he mumbled, his thoughts a blur but two coming to the forefront. First, Spicer had brought no letters, the first time that had happened in many weeks. Second, the cash. What did they need the five grand for? Probably to bribe their new lawyer. They'd planned their ambush well, which was always an advantage they held because they had so much time on their hands. Three very bright men, with lots of idle time. It wasn't fair.
Pride made him stand. He extended a hand and said, "Sorry it had to happen."
Spicer shook it reluctantly. Just get out of here, he wanted to say.
When they made eye contact for the last time, Trevor said, almost in a whisper, "Konyers is the man. Very rich.Very powerful. He knows about you."
Spicer leapt up like a cat. With their faces just inches apart, he said, also in a whisper, "Is he watching you?"
Trevor nodded and winked. Then he grabbed the door. He picked up his briefcase without a word to Link. What was he supposed to say to the guard? Sorry, old boy, but the thousand bucks a month in cash you were getting under the table just got cut off. Sad about it? Then ask judge Spicer here why it happened.
But he let it pass. He was reeling and almost dizzy, and the alcohol didn't help. What would he tell Wes and Chap? That was the question of the moment. They would hammer him as soon as they could catch him.
He said good-bye to Link, and Vince, Mackey, and Rufus up front, same as always but now for the last time, and walked into the hot sun.
Wes and Chap were parked three cars down. They wanted to talk but played it safe. Trevor ignored them as he tossed his briefcase into the passenger's seat and got in the Beetle. The caravan followed him away from the prison, and slowly down the highway toward Jacksonville.
Their decision to dispose of Trevor had been reached with a maximum of judicial deliberation. They'd spent hours hiding in their little room, studying the Konyers file until every word of every letter was memorized. They'd walked miles around the track, just the three of them, playing one scenario against another. They ate together, played cards together, all the while whispering new theories of who might be watching their mail.
Trevor was the nearest culprit, and the only one they could control. If their victims got sloppy, they could do nothing about it. But if their lawyer had failed to watch his trail, then he had to be fired. He was not the type to evoke a lot of trust in the first place. How many good, busy lawyers would be willing to risk their careers in a gay extortion scheme?
The only hesitation in ridding themselves of Trevor was the fear of what he might do with their money. They expected him to steal it, frankly, and they couldn't stop him. But they were willing to run that risk in return for a bigger score with Mr. Aaron Lake. To get to Lake, they felt they had to eliminate Trevor.
Spicer gave them the details of their meeting, word for word. Trevor's muted message at the end stunned them. Konyers was watching Trevor. Konyers knew about the Brethren. Did that mean Lake knew about the Brethren? Who was really Konyers now? Why did Trevor whisper this and why did he leave his briefcase outside the door?