“Yes, but tomorrow, you’re going to need foundation.”
Judy managed a smile, but was still shaken. She didn’t want to believe that Iris was guilty of drug dealing, but tonight had almost changed her mind. “Still, it’s so hard to believe, if you had seen Iris. Really, she was a cute little person.”
“Get real, Jude. You say the undocumented community is very close, and there have to be people who sell it drugs. That must be what she was up to, and Daniella, too.”
“A fine friend she turned out to be, huh? She leaves town before Iris is even buried.”
Mary snorted. “I’ll never do that to you when we start our drug business.”
“One way or another, we’ll be partners.” Judy steered around the curve past Chamonix Drive, practically devoid of traffic. The tires rumbled on the wet asphalt.
“Right! Meanwhile, you have to go home and throw boyfriend out of bed.”
“I know. I texted him, but he didn’t text me back. Either he’s asleep or he’s mad.”
“You texted him about your head and he didn’t write you back?”
“No, I didn’t mention my head.”
“Why not?” Mary frowned. “You were assaulted.”
“Why, do you think he’d rush to my aid?”
“You didn’t give him the chance.”
“Trust me, he wouldn’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Judy looked over in the dark car. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Mary shook her head. “I am, but I have to be honest. You’re being hard on him. The guy can’t win.”
“I hate when we disagree.”
“You and him?”
“No, me and you.” Judy steered past the Victorian boathouses on the opposite bank of the river, which usually made a picturesque backdrop, but tonight were shrouded in darkness and fog. “I’m trying to lighten up on him, but I can’t. Or every time I do, he just does something else to make me mad. I don’t think it’s the worst thing that he stays at his grandfather’s for a week or two.”
“It’s going to be longer than that.”
“Whatever, the break will do us good.” Judy had been thinking as much all night, but it was one thing to mull it over and another to say it out loud. “I want him to miss me. He’s taking too much for granted. Anyway, it can’t be helped.”
“You sound like you’re falling out of love. Are you falling out of love, honey?”
Judy thought about it. “No, I’m still in love. But I’m falling out of like.”
“That’s worse,” Mary said softly.
“I know.” Judy hit the gas, and the VW zoomed past the Art Museum, its Grecian columns lighted from beneath.
“When I called Bennie, I told her what happened tonight, and she’s wondering what’s going on with you.” Mary paused. “She mentioned that a client named Linda Adler called her because you didn’t return her call.”
“Oh no.” Judy kicked herself. “Linda is the plaintiff in a sex-discrimination case Bennie gave me. We traded calls, but I dropped the ball, it’s true.”
“She says it’s not like you, not to return a client’s call. Maybe you should tell Bennie about your aunt, huh? That’s the reason, isn’t it?”
“I’m not going to pimp out Aunt Barb’s mastectomy as an excuse for my mistake. It’s my aunt’s personal business.”
“I didn’t mean it that way, and Bennie really is worried.”
“Worried enough to save me from the lawyer hell of asbestos damages? I’m dreading working those cases.” Judy shook her head, driving toward the city. “What’s the value of a human life? Do I really want to think about that right now? How much would I get for Uncle Steve? Or my aunt? I mean, there are worse jobs, like picking mushrooms, but is that the test?”
Mary’s tone brightened. “You know, you could even use Allegra. It would give her something to cut her teeth on.”
“I like Allegra too much to put her on these cases,” Judy said, meaning it. Allegra Gardner was their teenaged intern, a genius-level prodigy who had actually been their client, having hired the Rosato firm to investigate her theory that the man convicted of murdering her sister was actually innocent. That she’d turned out to be right surprised everyone but the girl genius. Judy sighed, driving toward the city. “Mary, everybody hates asbestos cases. Remember Stalling and Webb? They lost associates in droves.”
“We won’t lose you.”
“No, of course not,” Judy rushed to say, though she wondered if she meant it. “But I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m going to ask Bennie to decline the representation.”
Mary looked over in disbelief. “She already accepted it, and she won’t turn down that much business.”
“It’s not worth the money. Let them go kill somebody else’s soul.”
“We don’t have a choice, as a firm.” Mary frowned, her mouth tilting down unhappily at the corners.
“Yes we do. We have free will. We choose how we make money in this world. Who knows how long any of us will be alive?” Judy was thinking again of Aunt Barb, even Uncle Steve. “You can’t give up your life to earn a living. All you have is your integrity. Did we forget that?”
“No, but we have to be realistic. We can’t lose that business.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I can lose that business. It’s not my firm, as an associate, but it is my practice and my life.” Judy made a decision. “I’m going to talk to Bennie.”
“Okay.” Mary’s tone grew gentler. “But do yourself a favor. Wait until her trial’s over, your chances are better. She should be finished Wednesday morning.”
“You think it can wait?”
“Sure. It’ll take a while to get those cases and files. You want me to go in with you? I’ll be your co-counsel.”
“No, thanks.”
“How about I soften her up first?”
“Is that even possible?” Judy couldn’t help but crack wise.
“Good point.”
“Text her, will you, Mare? We’re almost there.”
Chapter Twenty
“I can’t wait to get rid of this dough.” Judy rode up in the elevator with Mary, holding the duffel bag of cash and feeling as if their floor couldn’t come fast enough. “It stresses me out. I almost confessed to the security guard and I didn’t even do anything.”
Mary smiled. “You’d make a lame drug dealer.”
“I know. How do they do it?”
“They have guns.”
“I’m surprised you’re not nervous. You’re always more worried than I am.” Judy watched the floor numbers change above the elevator doors.
“The wedding cured me. Nothing is as stressful as planning a wedding.”
“How about a pregnancy test?” Judy asked, and they both laughed. The elevator pinged when they reached their floor, and the doors slid open, parting to reveal a reception room filled with exhibits and cardboard boxes that hadn’t been there Friday.
“Poor Bennie,” Mary said, stepping off the elevator. “She told me her trial was a monster.”
“That’s a helluva record.” Judy followed Mary past a wall of cardboard boxes, stacked five high.
“Oh geez, there’s more.” Mary turned right down the hallway, and Judy followed, surprised at the sight. The hallway was lined with cardboard boxes that ran the entire length of the baseboard, stretching all the way to Bennie’s office at the end of the corridor. There had to be a hundred boxes or more.
“Yikes, I feel sorry for her.” Judy followed Mary to Bennie’s door, where they both stopped at the threshold of her office, unnoticed by the boss, who sat working at her desk. Her large blue eyes focused on her laptop and her curly blond hair had been twisted into an unruly knot by a ballpoint pen. She had on her trademark white oxford shirt and khaki suit, which Judy assumed she had been born in.
“Hi Bennie,” Judy and Mary said, in unfortunate unison.
“Ladies, good to see you.” Bennie looked up with
a concerned frown. “Carrier, is that the bump?”
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Sheesh, sit down. You, too, DiNunzio.” Bennie waved them into the patterned chairs opposite her desk. Files, notes, and documents sat stacked around her, and the cherrywood shelves lining the office were filled with crystal awards and fancy bowls that she had earned over a long career, as one of the best trial lawyers in the country.
“Thanks, but we can’t,” Judy told her. “My aunt and mom are waiting in the car. Can we get this money into the safe?”
“Sure. Follow me.” Bennie rose quickly and came around the desk, eyeing Judy’s injury. “Is this why you didn’t call Linda Adler back? I got a message she was trying to reach you. If so, it’s a good excuse.”
“Right, sorry,” Judy answered, without elaborating. “We keep missing each other, but I’ll follow up.”
“Good. So, tell me what happened to you guys. Who jumped you? Do the cops have a suspect?” Bennie left her office, and Judy and Mary followed her down the hall.
“Not so far.”
“Carrier, about this money you’re bringing me, you have to get it out of the safe tomorrow. Overnight is fine, but not longer.”
“Why?” Judy hadn’t even thought about what to do with the money, after tonight. All she could think about for tomorrow was Aunt Barb’s mastectomy and a deposition in Adler that she was going to try to postpone. “I can’t tomorrow. I have a deposition in Adler, I’m deposing Govinda from PennBank. That’s what Linda was calling about.”
“We can’t have that amount of money here. You’ve made yourself the de facto custodian of these funds, which puts you in an unethical position vis-à-vis the Code. It looks like we’re commingling funds, which we aren’t.” Bennie barreled ahead. “Get yourself an estates lawyer, tonight. It needs to go into an IOLTA account, tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Judy said, though she had no idea what an IOLTA account was. She had an old friend from law school who was an estates lawyer and she made a mental note to email him.
“By the way, we can’t have these boxes in the hallway and reception area. You’ll need to get them into a war room tomorrow.” Bennie gestured to the wall of cardboard boxes, as they walked past.
“Wait. What? These boxes are mine?” Judy tried to catch up, the duffel bag bumping against her leg. “I thought they were your trial record.”
“No.” Bennie charged down the hallway. “The boxes are from Singer Crenheim. It’s those new matters in Bendaflex.”
“The damages trials, so soon?” Judy looked over at Mary, whose mouth dropped open in surprise. They followed Bennie left into the law library, a cozy room lined with tan lawbooks surrounding a round mahogany table. More cardboard boxes sat piled on the table and floor. “Yikes, are these mine, too?”
“Sure.” Bennie glanced back, smiling. “It’s a real coup to get that much referral business from a firm like Crenheim. They picked us over every firm in Philly.”
“But how did you get the files so fast?” Judy swallowed hard, because it looked like a done deal. “We only talked about this on Friday.”
“I know, but it’s New York.” Bennie led them through the library, down the hall toward the file room and the office safe. “They don’t waste any time, and I told him to have the documents couriered to us on Saturday. I knew I’d be in the office.”
Judy steeled herself. “Bennie, I’m not sure we should take these cases. I want to talk it over with you.”
“What’s to talk about?” Bennie tossed over her shoulder. “Also, they’re paying us on a flat fee, not an hourly basis, which is typical for this work. Fifty grand a case is all we get. I figure each case is a three-to-five day trial, and if you staff it with a paralegal and Allegra, you can bring each case in at thirty-five grand. Make that happen, so we keep a profit margin.”
Mary interjected, “Bennie, I think Judy deserves a say—”
“Got it, Mary.” Judy waved her off, because it was time for the big-girl panties. “Bennie, before we even talk fees, this is such a big commitment of time that—”
“I know, I love it.” Bennie led them to the file room, opened the door, and flicked on the light, illuminating a grayish Formica counter and the rolling shelves of active case files beyond. “Marc said there were seventy-five or seventy-six different trials. That will take us two to three years down the line. Guaranteed billings every quarter, totaling 3.75 million. Wow!”
“I’m worried it will consume my entire practice.”
“You’re damn right it will.” Bennie led them down the aisle toward the supply room. “It’s a game-changer for you.”
“That’s exactly my problem.”
“You have a problem?”
“Yes, I have a problem.”
Bennie stopped in her tracks and did an about-face in the aisle, with a mystified smile. “Are you serious?”
“Bennie, I don’t want to work those cases.” Judy didn’t dare look over at Mary, who stood aside in stunned silence. “I’m dreading the subject matter, the time, it’s all too much—”
“You won’t have to do it by yourself. We’ll crunch the numbers and see how many people you can hire.” Bennie brightened, grinning as if she’d gotten a great idea. “In fact, wait, I take that back. You run it by yourself, the whole shebang. Personnel and all. You decide whom you want to hire and whom you can fit in the budget, considering the billings you’re bringing in. Run the litigation like a partner. Run it efficiently. Lean. Don’t hire a lot of expensive experts. Make us 20 percent.”
“But I’d be chiseling away at how much a guilty company should pay someone they wronged. It’s not justice. Hell, it’s not even law.”
“It is justice.” Bennie frowned, puzzled. “The punishment should fit the crime. It’s about fairness. No company should pay more than someone was harmed. That’s why they hired us, and they’ll pay us well.”
“They hired us because they don’t want to do it.”
Bennie pursed her lips. “They hired us because it’s too expensive for them to try the cases in Philly and put up a bunch of associates in a hotel.”
“But it’s soul-killing. We’re on the wrong side of the question.”
“What are you talking about?” Bennie looked at Judy like she was crazy. “We defend the law. Everybody’s entitled to a defense, even asbestos manufacturers.”
“Bennie, let’s be real. This isn’t first-rate legal work.” Judy knew it was politically incorrect to say so, but it was true. “We always get the best cases, referred or not. Antitrust, First Amendment, civil rights, constitutional law, high-profile murder defense, big-stakes commercial litigation. We’re a quality shop.”
“We’re a business.” Bennie’s eyes flashed, but her tone remained cool. “We make law and we make money. There’s no shame in taking those asbestos cases, and it keeps the lights on. Don’t be a law snob. Furthermore, it’s an opportunity for you. If you do a good job, and you will, they’ll send us more.”
“What, more damages cases?” Judy threw up her hands. “Why not other mass torts? Yaz. Pradaxa. Coumadin. Hip implants. It’s a no-win for me. If I do a good cleanup job, I’ll get more to clean up.”
“You want to be real? I’ll be real.” Bennie met her gaze with naked frankness. “Carrier. You’re a brilliant lawyer, a lawyer’s lawyer. If I need a legal scholar, you’re my first choice. If I need an elegant brief, you’re my first choice. If I need cutting-edge case analysis, you’re my first choice. I truly value what you do here, as an associate. Your litigation strategy is aggressive and creative. That’s why I give you my cases, to work. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.” Judy knew Bennie meant this as high praise, even though it came off like criticism.
“But you don’t have a client base, and you can’t make partner without a client base. You understand that’s what’s holding you back, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Judy answered, honestly. She worked on cases that Bennie brought in and was the h
ired gun on some work she got herself, but she didn’t have the bread-and-butter client base that Mary did, getting repeat cases from small businesses all over South and West Philly.
“You don’t need me to tell you that the legal business has changed. That you can’t make partner in any law firm in this city without being a rainmaker. And Bendaflex is your best chance at starting your own client base.”
Judy wished she could give in, but she’d come this far, so she couldn’t. “What if I don’t like the work?”
“Seriously?” Bennie’s eyes flared an incredulous blue. “Are you really telling me you don’t like what’s for dinner, when I’m the one who left the cave, shot the beast, cooked it, and served it to you?”
“I’m not saying I don’t appreciate it.” Judy’s chest constricted. “But what if I can build a client base another way? Can’t you hire someone else to do the cases? Isn’t that my decision?”
“In a word, no.”
“No?” Judy repeated, blinking.
“I’ve heard you out, but you have to go with my decision. You’re not a partner, you’re still an associate, and as such, you’ll do the work we give you. End of discussion.” Bennie turned on her heel and walked away. “The safe’s this way.”
Judy stood red-faced, next to Mary, who looked stricken. The space between them widened to a corporate chasm.
Judy’s goose egg started to throb, but that could have been her imagination.
Chapter Twenty-one
“Frank?” Judy said, opening the door to the apartment, with her mother, Aunt Barb, and Penny behind her. Through the crack in the door came the unmistakable sound of a football game on TV, the stench of cigar smoke, and the hooting and hollering of American men losing their damn minds.
Judy’s heart sank at the scene in her living room. The mega-TV was on full blast, and the coffee table was cluttered with open pizza boxes, bags of hard pretzels, and beer cans. Frank and his two best friends were jumping up and down in front of the couch, cheering. She couldn’t be mad at Frank for feeling better and enjoying himself, but she knew her mother and Aunt Barb wanted to get to bed.