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about Norma Brewer’s murder I started building simulations that modeled different scenarios that would explain Julius’s behavior since accepting the case. There was one scenario that stood out as having the highest probability. I asked him about it. Whether he was lying low waiting for the brother to kill Norma Brewer, knowing that if that were to happen it would make it easy for him to earn his fee, since all he’d have to do is wait for the police to arrest the brother and then have the courts vacate his guardianship.
    “Are you asking whether I expected Lawrence Brewer to murder my client?”
    “Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”
    “No, that’s not what I was expecting.” A young couple were passing us on the sidewalk, and Julius took out his cell phone so he wouldn’t appear to be an insane person talking to himself. Somewhat amused, Julius asked, “Archie, what would be Lawrence Brewer’s purpose in doing that?”
    “Because she engaged you. Maybe he was afraid you’d find leverage that you’d be able to use against him. Maybe he thought if his sister were out of the way, you’d be also.”
    “It’s possible, Archie, but he’d have to be a dolt to think that. Then again, the way he was acting at the dog track, as well as his behavior regarding his mother’s well being, he could very well be a dolt.”
    “So, you think he murdered his sister?”
    Julius made a face. “It’s a possibility, Archie. But it’s just one of many and there’s no point engaging in idle speculation now. The next few days are going to be hectic enough and this could be my last decent meal before this matter has been put to bed. So please, Archie, no more discussion on this, at least not tonight.”
    I wanted to ask him the obvious question, which was, if he hadn’t been waiting for Lawrence Brewer to murder his sister, then what had he been waiting for? What stopped me was detecting a hint of a threat in his voice that if I continued this line of conversation he would turn me off. That would be twice in three days, and I didn’t want to set that type of precedent. I remained quiet while he walked to Le Che Cru and took a seat at the bar. The maitre d’ came over with a complimentary bottle of Chardonnay that he knew Julius favored, and apologized profusely that he wasn’t able to arrange for an earlier table for his favorite patron. Before leaving, he told Julius that he would have an order of seared sweetbreads in chestnut flour brought over immediately, on the house, of course. Julius graciously accepted all this. The sweetbreads were brought over within minutes and, while Julius was having his second glass of wine, a Detective Mark Cramer from the Cambridge Police Department called. I connected the call to Julius’s ear piece so he could listen in. Rather gruffly, the detective asked to speak to Julius.
    “I’m afraid Mr. Katz isn’t available,” I said.
    “Yeah, well, get him available!”
    “I would if I had any idea where he is, but I don’t, so I can’t.”
    The detective used some choice invective on his end of the line, ending with the phrase, “ son of a bitch .”
    “Is that all, Detective?” I asked, to Julius’s obvious amusement.
    “No, that’s not all,” he said, his voice growing more exasperated. “Your boss is a material witness in a murder case—”
    “There’s been a murder?”
    “Shut up,” he ordered, his exasperation growing. “I know damn well you called the victim’s sister within the hour, just as I know your boss is probably with you right now getting a good laugh over all this. The Boston PD filled me in on what to expect, so don’t think you’re fooling anyone with this, okay? You better just tell Katz to come in to Central Square station within the next fifteen minutes or I’ll be getting a bench warrant for his arrest. Ask him how he’d like a few days in lockup for contempt of court!”
    Detective Cramer hung up on me. Julius shook his head, a thin wisp of a