jg.thefirm-第36部分

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　　Mitch　leaned　on　the　railing　and　shivered　in　the　cool　wind。　His　bare　feet　were　frozen　and　gritty。　For　miles　along　the　beach　in　both　directions；　the　hotels　and　condos　sat　quietly　and　waited　for　the　day。　There　was　no　one　on　the　beach。　Another　pier　jutted　into　the　water　miles　away。
　　The　fishermen　spoke　with　the　sharp；　precise　words　of　those　from　the　North。　Mitch　listened　long　enough　to　learn　the　fish　were　not　biting。　He　studied　the　sea。　Looking　southeast；　he　thought　of　the　Caymans；　and　Abanks。　And　the　girl　for　a　moment；　then　she　was　gone。　He　would　return　to　the　islands　in　March；　for　a　vacation　with　his　wife。　Damn　the　girl。　Surely　he　would　not　see　her。　He　would　dive　with　Abanks　and　cultivate　a　friendship。　They　would　drink　Heineken　and　Red　Stripe　at　his　bar　and　talk　of　Hodge　and　Kozinski。　He　would　follow　whoever　was　following　him。　Now　that　Abby　was　an　acplice；　she　would　assist　him。
　　The　man　waited　in　the　dark　beside　the　Lincoln　Town　Car。　He　nervously　checked　his　watch　and　glanced　at　the　dimly　lit　sidewalk　that　disappeared　in　front　of　the　building。　On　the　second　floor　a　light　was　turned　off。　A　minute　later；　the　private　eye　walked　from　the　building　toward　the　car。　The　man　walked　up　to　him。
　　〃Are　you　Eddie　Lomax？〃　he　asked　anxiously。
　　Lomax　slowed；　then　stopped。　They　were　face…to…face。　〃Yeah。　Who　are　you？〃
　　The　man　kept　his　hands　in　his　pockets。　It　was　cold　and　damp；　and　he　was　shaking。　〃Al　Kilbury。　I　need　some　help；　Mr。　Lomax。　Real　bad。　I'll　pay　you　right　now　in　cash；　whatever　you　want。　Just　help　me。〃
　　〃It's　late；　pal。〃
　　〃Please。　I've　got　the　money。　Naftte…4he　price。　You　gotta　help；　Mr。　Lomax。〃　He　pulled　a　roll　of　ca》^　from　his　left　pants　pocket　and　stood　ready　to　count。
　　Lomax　looked　at　the　money；　then　glanced　over　his　shoulder。　〃What's　the　problem？〃
　　〃My　wife。　In　an　hour　she's　supposed　to　meet　a　man　at　a　motel　in　South　Memphis。　I've　got　the　room　number　and　all。　I　just　need　you　to　go　with　me　and　take　pictures　of　them　ing　and　going。〃
　　〃How　do　you　know　this？〃
　　〃Phone　taps。　She　works　with　the　man；　and　I've　been　suspicious。　I'm　a　wealthy　man；　Mr。　Lomax；　and　it's　imperative　I　win　the　divorce。　I'll　pay　you　a　thousand　in　cash　now。〃　He　quickly　peeled　off　ten　bills　and　offered　them。
　　Lomax　took　the　money。　〃Okay。　Let　me　get　my　camera。〃
　　〃Please　hurry。　Everything's　in　cash；　okay？　No　records。〃
　　〃Suits　me；〃　said　Lomax　as　he　walked　toward　the　building。
　　Twenty　minutes　later；　the　Lincoln　rolled　slowly　through　the　crowded　parking　lot　of　a　Days　Inn。　Kilbury　pointed　to　a　second…floor　room　on　the　back　side　of　the　motel；　then　to　a　parking　space　next　to　a　brown　Chevy　van。　Lomax　backed　carefully　alongside　the　van　and　parked　his　Town　Car。　Kilbury　again　pointed　to　the　room；　again　checked　his　watch　and　again　told　Lomax　how　much　he　appreciated　his　services。　Lomax　thought　of　the　money。　A　thousand　bucks　for　two　hours'　work。　Not　bad。　He　unpacked　a　camera；　loaded　the　film　and　gauged　the　light。　Kilbury　watched　nervously；　his　eyes　darting　from　the　camera　to　the　room　across　the　parking　lot。　He　looked　hurt。　He　talked　of　his　wife　and　their　wonderful　years　together；　and　why；　oh　why　was　she　doing　this？
　　Lomax　listened　and　watched　the　rows　of　parked　cars　in　front　of　him。　He　held　his　camera。
　　He　did　not　notice　the　door　of　the　brown　van。　It　quietly　and　slowly　slid　open；　just　three　feet　behind　him。　A　man　in　a　black　turtleneck　wearing　black　gloves　crouched　low　in　the　van　and　waited。　When　the　parking　lot　was　still；　he　jumped　from　the　van；　yanked　open　the　left　rear　door　of　the　Lincoln　and　fired　three　times　into　the　back　of　Eddie's　head。　The　shots；　muffled　with　a　silencer；　could　not　be　heard　outside　the　car。
　　Eddie　slumped　against　the　wheel；　already　dead。　Kilbury　bolted　from　the　Lincoln；　ran　to　the　van　and　sped　away　with　the　assassin。
　　　
　　　18
　　AFTER　three　days　of　unbillable　time；　of　no　production；　of　exile　from　their　sanctuaries；　of　turkey　and　ham　and　cranberry　sauce　and　new　toys　that　came　unassembled；　the　rested　and　rejuvenated　lawyers　of　Bendini；　Lambert　&　Locke　returned　to　the　fortress　on　Front　Street　with　a　vengeance。　The　parking　lot　was　full　by　seven…thirty。　They　sat　fixed　and　fortable　behind　their　heavy　desks；　drank　coffee　by　the　gallon；　meditated　over　mail　and　correspondence　and　documents　and　mumbled　incoherently　and　furiously　into　their　Dictaphones。　They　barked　orders　at　secretaries　and　clerks　and　paralegals；　and　at　each　other。　There　were　a　few　〃How　was　your　Christmas？〃　greetings　in　the　halls　and　around　the　coffeepots；　but　small　talk　was　cheap　and　unbillable。　The　sounds　of　typewriters；　inters　and　secretaries　all　harmonized　into　one　glorious　hum　as　the　mint　recovered　from　the　nuisance　of　Christmas。　Oliver　Lambert　walked　the　halls；　smiling　with　satisfaction　and　listening；　just　listening　to　the　sounds　of　wealth　being　made　by　the　hour。
　　At　noon；　Lamar　walked　into　the　office　and　leaned　across　the　desk。　Mitch　was　deep　into　an　oil　and　gas　deal　in　Indonesia。
　　〃Lunch？〃　Lamar　asked。
　　〃No；　thanks。　I'm　behind。〃
　　〃Aren't　we　all。　I　thought　we　could　run　down　to　the　Front　Street　Deli　for　a　bowl　of　chili。〃
　　〃I'll　pass。　Thanks。〃
　　Lamar　glanced　over　his　shoulder　at　the　door　and　leaned　closer　as　if　he　had　extraordinary　news　to　share。　〃You　know　what　today　is；　don't　you？〃
　　Mitch　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃The　twenty…eighth。〃
　　〃Right。　And　do　you　know　what　happens　on　the　twenty…eighth　of　December　of　every　year？〃
　　〃You　have　a　bowel　movement。〃
　　〃Yes。　And　what　else？〃
　　〃Okay。　I　give　up。　What　happens？〃'
　　〃At　this　very　moment；　in　the　dining　room　on　the　fifth　floor；　all　the　partners　are　gathered　for　a　lunch　of　roast　duck　and　French　wine。〃
　　〃Wine；　for　lunch？〃
　　〃Yes。　It's　a　very　special　occasion。〃
　　〃Okay？〃
　　〃After　they　eat　for　an　hour；　Roosevelt　and　Jessie　Frances　will　leave　and　Lambert　will　lock　the　door。　Then　it's　all　the　partners；　you　see。　Only　the　partners。　And　Lambert　will　hand　out　a　financial　summary　for　the　year。　It's　got　all　the　partners　listed；　and　beside　each　name　is　a　number　that　represents　their　total　billing　for　the　year。　Then　on　the　next　page　is　a　summary　of　the　net　profits　after　expenses。　Then；　based　on　production；　they　divide　the　pie！〃
　　Mitch　hung　on　every　word。　〃And？〃
　　〃And；　last　year　the　average　piece　of　pie　was　three　hundred　and　thirty　thousand。　And；　of　course；　it's　expected　to　be　even　higher　this　year。　Goes　up　every　year。〃
　　〃Three　hundred　and　thirty　thousand；〃　Mitch　repeated　slowly。
　　〃Yep。　And　that's　just　the　average。　Locke　will　get　close　to　a　million。　Victor　Milligan　will　run　a　close　second。〃
　　〃And　what　about　us？〃
　　〃We　get　a　piece　too。　A　very　small　piece。　Last　year　it　was　around　nine　thousand；　on　the　average。　Depends　on　how　long　you've　been　here　and　production。〃
　　〃Can　we　go　watch？〃
　　〃They　wouldn't　sell　a　ticket　to　the　President。　It's　supposed　to　be　a　secret　meeting；　but　we　all　know　about　it。　Word　will　begin　drifting　down　late　this　afternoon。〃
　　〃When　do　they　vote　on　who　to　make　the　next　partner？〃
　　〃Normally；　it　would　be　done　today。　But；　according　to　rumor；　there　may　not　be　a　new　partner　this　year　because　of　Marty　and　Joe。　I　think　Marty　was　next　in　line；　then　Joe。　Now；　they　might　wait　a　year　or　two。〃
　　〃So　who's　next　in　line？〃
　　Lamar　stood　straight　and　smiled　proudly。　〃One　year　from　today；　my　friend；　I　will　bee　a　partner　in　Bendini；　Lambert　&　Locke。　I'm　next　in　line；　so　don't　get　in　my　way　this　year。〃
　　〃I　heard　it　was　Massengill…a　Harvard　man；　I　might　add。〃
　　〃Massengill　doesn't　have　a　prayer。　I　intend　to　bill　a　hundred　and　forty　hours　a　week　for　the　next　fifty…two　weeks；　and　those　birds　will　beg　me　to　bee　a　partner。　I'll　go　to　the　fourth　floor；　and　Massengill　will　go　to　the　basement　with　the　paralegals。〃
　　〃I'm　putting　my　money　on　Massengill。〃
　　〃He's　a　wimp。　I'll　run　him　into　the　ground。　Let's　go　eat　a　bowl　of　chili；　and　I'll　reveal　my　strategy。〃
　　〃Thanks；　but　I　need　to　work。〃
　　Lamar　strutted　from　the　office　and　passed　Nina；　who　was　carrying　a　stack　of　papers。　She　laid　them　on　a　cluttered　corner　of　the　desk。　〃I'm　going　to　lunch。　Need　anything？〃
　　〃No。　Thanks。　Yes；　a　Diet　Coke。〃
　　The　halls　quietened　during　lunch　as　the　secretaries　escaped　the　building　and　walked　toward　downtown　to　a　dozen　small　cafes　and　delicatessens　nearby。　With　half　the　lawyers　on　the　fifth　floor　counting　their　money；　the　gentle　roar　of　merce　took　an　intermission。
　　Mitch　found　an　apple　on　Nina's　desk　and　rubbed　it　clean。　He　opened　a　manual　on　IRS　regulations；　laid　it　on　the　copier　behind　her　desk　and　touched　the　green　PRINT　button。　A　red　warning　lit　up　and　flashed　the　message：　INSERT　FILE　NUMBER。　He　backed　away　and　looked　at　the　copier。　Yes；　it　was　a　new　one。　Next　to　the　PRINT　button　was　another　that　read　BYPASS。　He　stuck　his　thumb　on　it。　A　shrill　siren　erupted　from　within　the　machine；　and　the　entire　panel　of　buttons　turned　bright　red。　He　looked　around　helplessly；　saw　no　one　and　frantically　grabbed　the　instruction　manual。
　　〃What's　going　on　here？〃　someone　demanded　over　the　wailing　of　the　copier。
　　〃I　don't　know！〃　Mitch　yelled；　waving　the　manual。
　　Lela　Pointer；　a　secretary　too　old　to　walk　from　the　building　for　lunch；　reached　behind　the　machine　and　flipped　a　switch。　The　siren　died。
　　〃What　the　h