asked in a voice that was velvety smooth and very scary. it was the sort of purr that might issue from a hungry leopard while it was deciding what part of a staked goat to eat first.
"Well, actually, the court appointed Amos Geary.
In fact, I've just started. My cards are on order," Peter He'll represent you, if we go to trial. I work with him.
babbled, managing a tiny smile he hoped would convey his perfect harmlessness and the fact that he should be considered a friend and not dinner.
"I see," Mammon said, returning Peter's smile with an ominous glare.
"Mr. Geary is in Blaine County this afternoon. He wanted me to conduct the first interview. Why don't you sit down and we can get started."
Peter sat on his folding chair and took a pen and pad out of his attach case. Mammon remained standing.
Clara had placed an interview form on the left side of the file. Peter scanned some of the questions on the form, then, without looking up, he said, "There's some background information I'll need. Can you give me your date of birth?"
Marmnlon tilted his head to one side and read the interview form upside down.
"Can I see that?" he asked, pointing at the form.
Peter hesitated, then took the form out of the file and handed it to Mammon. Mammon studied the form for a moment, then slowly ripped it into tiny pieces.
"If Geary's my lawyer I'll talk to Geary and not some flunky."
As Mammon let the pieces of the form flutter from his fingers like a minisnowstorm it suddenly occurred to Peter that he was locked in the interview room and there was only wooden table separating him from a a very dangerous wild animal.
"Yes, well, I'm an experienced attorney and anythin You tell me is confidential. I'll only talk about our contempt to steer his client out of the world of ultraviolet, versation to Mr. Geary)') Peter told Mammon in an at kung fu flicks and graphic slasher movies. t "Just how experienced are You, Peter?" Mammon asked.
"I've been a lawyer for four years."
"And how many criminal cases have you handled P, "Well, none, but, uhm, I have tried many complex legal matters and I .. ."
Mammon held up his hand and Peter stopped talking.
Mammon rested his hands on the table and it buckled.
Then, he leaned across the table until his face was inches from Peter's.
"You just lied to me, didn't you, Peter?"
Peter turned pale. His voice caught in his throat and all he could manage was, -1 ... 1.. ."
Mammon held him with his eyes for a moment. Then he went to the door and pounded on it. The locks snapped open and Mammon walked out of the room. It took a moment for Peter to realize that he was still alive.
Peter's only other visit to Whitaker had been spent humiliating and browbeating a local attorney and his client. After the deposition, Peter had celebrated at the Stallion, a bar Popular with the students at Whitaker State, where he met a nurse named Rhonda something whom he fascinated with his descri tion of the devastap tion visited on his adversary. The the'xt morning, Rhonda had written her name and phone number on a piece of a motel stationery before she left for the hospital. Si ince the Stallion provided the only good memory Peter had of Whitaker, it was here that he ran as soon as he escaped the Jail. oing to do?" Peter asked himself, as he "What am I g started on his second Jack Daniel's. He could not endure another encounter with a Mammon-like individual. It was out of the question. But what was his alternative?
Being a lawyer was all Peter knew and no one except Amos Geary would offer him a job after the Elliot fiasco.
Peter longed for his condo, now owned by a Merrill, Lynch exec who had gotten it at a fire-sale price because of Peter's sudden descent into poverty, and his Porsche, I which he had been forced to trade in for a used Subaru.
He wanted a job of which he could be proud. Most of all, he needed to reclaim his dignity. But his material possessions, his job and his dignity had been stripped from him. He was,
"Well, actually, the court appointed Amos Geary.
In fact, I've just started. My cards are on order," Peter He'll represent you, if we go to trial. I work with him.
babbled, managing a tiny smile he hoped would convey his perfect harmlessness and the fact that he should be considered a friend and not dinner.
"I see," Mammon said, returning Peter's smile with an ominous glare.
"Mr. Geary is in Blaine County this afternoon. He wanted me to conduct the first interview. Why don't you sit down and we can get started."
Peter sat on his folding chair and took a pen and pad out of his attach case. Mammon remained standing.
Clara had placed an interview form on the left side of the file. Peter scanned some of the questions on the form, then, without looking up, he said, "There's some background information I'll need. Can you give me your date of birth?"
Marmnlon tilted his head to one side and read the interview form upside down.
"Can I see that?" he asked, pointing at the form.
Peter hesitated, then took the form out of the file and handed it to Mammon. Mammon studied the form for a moment, then slowly ripped it into tiny pieces.
"If Geary's my lawyer I'll talk to Geary and not some flunky."
As Mammon let the pieces of the form flutter from his fingers like a minisnowstorm it suddenly occurred to Peter that he was locked in the interview room and there was only wooden table separating him from a a very dangerous wild animal.
"Yes, well, I'm an experienced attorney and anythin You tell me is confidential. I'll only talk about our contempt to steer his client out of the world of ultraviolet, versation to Mr. Geary)') Peter told Mammon in an at kung fu flicks and graphic slasher movies. t "Just how experienced are You, Peter?" Mammon asked.
"I've been a lawyer for four years."
"And how many criminal cases have you handled P, "Well, none, but, uhm, I have tried many complex legal matters and I .. ."
Mammon held up his hand and Peter stopped talking.
Mammon rested his hands on the table and it buckled.
Then, he leaned across the table until his face was inches from Peter's.
"You just lied to me, didn't you, Peter?"
Peter turned pale. His voice caught in his throat and all he could manage was, -1 ... 1.. ."
Mammon held him with his eyes for a moment. Then he went to the door and pounded on it. The locks snapped open and Mammon walked out of the room. It took a moment for Peter to realize that he was still alive.
Peter's only other visit to Whitaker had been spent humiliating and browbeating a local attorney and his client. After the deposition, Peter had celebrated at the Stallion, a bar Popular with the students at Whitaker State, where he met a nurse named Rhonda something whom he fascinated with his descri tion of the devastap tion visited on his adversary. The the'xt morning, Rhonda had written her name and phone number on a piece of a motel stationery before she left for the hospital. Si ince the Stallion provided the only good memory Peter had of Whitaker, it was here that he ran as soon as he escaped the Jail. oing to do?" Peter asked himself, as he "What am I g started on his second Jack Daniel's. He could not endure another encounter with a Mammon-like individual. It was out of the question. But what was his alternative?
Being a lawyer was all Peter knew and no one except Amos Geary would offer him a job after the Elliot fiasco.
Peter longed for his condo, now owned by a Merrill, Lynch exec who had gotten it at a fire-sale price because of Peter's sudden descent into poverty, and his Porsche, I which he had been forced to trade in for a used Subaru.
He wanted a job of which he could be proud. Most of all, he needed to reclaim his dignity. But his material possessions, his job and his dignity had been stripped from him. He was,
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