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estate work?”
    Bill was at home with this topic. He was a
shy man, not a lawyer who wanted to hear himself talk (a favorite
pastime of many attorneys) nor not a dramatist primed for court
appearances. He was in his element when discussing the rote
procedures of producing a will, a power of attorney, or a trust. He
didn’t seem shy at all when he answered the detective.
    “ We discuss what the individual wants
over the course of one or more meetings. We draft the documents,
review the documents, and make corrections. We have further review
and then a swearing in and signing before witnesses and a notary.
The client retains the original documents; we retain copies and
then send a bill that, hopefully, is paid. It happens about the
same way every time. Some clients come in and change their estate
planning every few months, depending on which of their
grandchildren they like best at the time. Adrienne was not like
that.”
    “ When you met with Mrs. Maxwell for
your initial discussions of her will, did you take any
notes?”
    Bill almost looked offended by the idea that
he wouldn’t have taken notes. He was a copious note-taker. He could
give a lecture series on effective note taking. From Adrienne
Maxwell’s file I extracted the “Attorney Notes” folder and handed
it to my new fantasy boyfriend.
    Gus perused the maniacally organized
materials and asked, “Any rough draft notes, just initial
impressions that you might have jotted down?”
    Bill drew himself up indignantly, a faint
frown settling on his forehead. “Those are my draft notes.”
    Gus glanced from the yellow paper to Bill and
then back down again. I knew what they both were thinking. Gus was
looking at ruler-straight columns and outline formatting and
thinking that only a cyborg would take notes this neatly. Bill, on
the other hand, was wondering if there were some way to make his
notes neater. Some minutes ticked by as Gus read through the pages.
I enjoyed myself by watching his profile out of the corner of my
eye as I pretended to gaze out the window.
    “ She was despondent?” Gus asked,
reading something from the first page again.
    “ Hmm?”
    “ Here it says that Ms. Maxwell seemed
despondent when she came in for her meetings.”
    “ She had lost her husband quite
recently.”
    Gus asked, “Mr. Nestor, do you take notes
like this on all your clients?”
    “ Of course.”
    “ This is pretty intimate stuff. You
have a lot of information here that I wouldn’t think was pertinent,
considering your job.”
    “ Is that a problem?” Bill asked, his
fingers beginning to fret together.
    “ You’ve got an outline of her home
security measures. And here,” Gus said, gesturing to another page,
“is a list of her personality characteristics, and there’s this
part about being despondent. Depressed. That sounds like something
more from a doctor’s office. Here on this last page, you’ve got a
list of her plans for the future.”
    Bill’s breathing sounded rapid to me, and I
hurried to jump to his defense. Detective Haglund, cute as he might
be, didn’t understand how easy it was to upset my boss’s balance. I
said, “Bill takes a great deal of time to get to know his clients,
and he’s an excellent note-taker, particularly in a case like
Adrienne’s. Since she was a recent widow, he wanted to make sure
she was taking care of herself and her possessions. The files are
confidential, so anything he writes would never become public
knowledge. And then, if we have future dealings with the clients,
it’s easier to remember them and what we talked about.”
    I looked defiantly at both of them. “Not all
attorneys care enough about their clients to take the time.”
    Bill looked rather embarrassed, but he did
seem calmer.
    “ Understood,” said Gus Haglund. “Can we
mark these for copies?” He handed the notes over gently. Each time
he looked at me, he smiled fleetingly and flicked his eyes quickly
away, probably fortunate because prolonged