Brody didn’t build the firm to its present status by taking on poorer Latino clients such as those litigating against La Hora for distribution hassles. But neither did he do it by being unfriendly or turning down clients.
In the La Hora matter, he had gone to bat for Jaime Rodriguez because he was the cousin of his college roommate Julio Suarez, who, in turn, just happened to run the most successful construction company in Alameda, which was currently developing a three-and-a-half-acre waterfront mall about two miles from the naval station. Coincidentally, Brody was handling the paper on that development.
Rodriguez had been distributing La Hora in Lafayette and part of Richmond. After meeting with Brody, he had talked all of his fellow distributors, except the main guy in San Francisco, into the co-op lawsuit.
After he’d studied the facts of the case, Brody got into it a little. It wasn’t often he ran across a real human issue. This wasn’t wills or codicils or a contract featuring an endless series of “WHEREAS” followed by a “NOW THEREFORE.”
Of course, there wasn’t much money in it, but it wasn’t strictly pro bono either. Hell, someone had to represent these folks. He felt good about it.
From his desk in his corner office he could see the clock on the Ferry Building. It was eleven-thirty. He was prepared for the meeting. He was always prepared, he knew, but when Judge Andy Fowler sent someone his way it was doubly important to have done his homework.
Donna buzzed him and told him Mr. Hardy was here. He had, of course, checked back with Andy about Hardy. Used to be the son-in-law. Brody tried to recall if he’d ever met Jane’s first husband, but that had been before he was successful enough to have joined Olympic and gotten to know the judge. Still, he was ready to recognize him if he looked at all familiar.
He didn’t. The man was a little too casually dressed for Brody’s taste. Andy had said Hardy was an attorney, and there were rules of dress within the fraternity. But then, Hardy didn’t practice law anymore, so maybe something else was going on.
He declined coffee, tea, anything, which was good. Brody had said he’d give him an hour, but hoped it wouldn’t take that long. Interesting cases were one thing, but let’s not forget time was money. Hardy did thank him immediately for his time. Maybe he was still in the club.
Brody shrugged and smiled. “When His Honor beckons… How can I help you?”
“I’d like to find out, if I may, if this man Cruz might have had a motive to murder one of Sam Polk’s employees.”
Brody sat up straight, then fished for a cigar in the humidor on the desk. He didn’t like being surprised when he ought to know what was happening. Lighting the cigar gave him a moment. He took a stab in the dark.
“Polk, the San Francisco distributor?”
“That’s him.”
Brody inhaled the cigar. He probably hadn’t heard the name in six months, but he hadn’t taken memory training for nothing.
“There’s been a murder in this case?”
Hardy shook his head. “We don’t know for sure. There’s two dead people as of now, with an angle to Polk. There may be some connection to Cruz.”
“Two?”
Hardy explained.
“You know, Mr. Hardy, Polk is not one of my clients.”
Hardy obviously didn’t know it. “I thought you were handling it.”
“For everybody but Polk. He was the only one isn’t Mex… Latino, among the distributors, but he was also the first and the biggest. He wasn’t interested in the suit”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t even meet with me to discuss it, although my other clients tried to bring some, uh, leverage to bear.”
“How was that?”
Brody held up a hand. “Nothing illegal, I don’t mean that. No threats or anything. Just some business incentives.”
But Hardy pressed a little. “And when he didn’t come on, did it really hurt your case? What I’m wondering is, could someone have tried to scare Polk by hurting his people? Then maybe there was an accident?”
Brody acted legitimately shocked. “Oh God, no. No chance. All this went down months ago. At that time I would have given a very qualified maybe to that theory-very; now, it’s not even possible. You must be out of litigation awhile. Anything in recent history couldn’t be relevant.” Hardy said okay, and Brody continued. “I don’t understand it really. It, the lawsuit I mean, was to Polk’s advantage.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to pay the legal fees.”
Brody shook his head. “Minimal. In my opinion, I think he just stopped caring about his business. He’s an older fellow, probably rolling in money, maybe just figured it was as good a time as any to hang ’ em up. His daughter was killed, you say?”
“Yesterday.”
“And the other one, his manager?”
“We don’t know he was killed. In some ways it looked like a suicide, maybe was made to look like a suicide. The police leaned that way until Linda was killed. But now they’ve got a suspect for Linda and they’re willing to consider they’re related.”
“Just too much coincidence to buy, right?”
Hardy thought that was it.
“And you think Mr. Cruz might have had a motive…?”
Hardy walked over to the globe and gave it a spin. He appeared to be thinking hard. “All I know, or think I know, is that Cruz lied to me twice while I was interrogating him. I’d like to think he did that for a reason.”
“Why did he let you talk to him? He’s stonewalling us.”
“Eddie’s body was found on his lot. We had a lying contest-I told him I was a cop.”
“I hope you didn’t tell Andy that.”
“No, I don’t think the judge would approve. Anyway, I got to see him and he lied to me about having known Eddie. I also think he was there at or near the time Eddie was killed.”
Brody whistled, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk. “If you can prove that, you’ve got something.”
Hardy took the other chair, saying, “I know. But if my uncle had tits he’d be my aunt.”
Brody drew on his cigar, shaking his head. “The case really pisses me off, you want to know the truth,” he said. “Here’s this guy, Cruz, needs more money like a toad needs warts, and ruins his relationships with people he’s worked with for years. Friends, even.”
“Socially?”
“Not really. He’s got no personal social life, though he’s big in, as they say, the community.”
“Well, that’s a contradiction, isn’t it?”
“Not really. The community is his ad base.”
“So why’d he do it? Cut these guys off, I mean. Wouldn’t that hurt him the same way?”
“I don’t think so. It’s nine guys spread out all over the Bay area. And it’s not the kind of news the TV or the Chronicle’s likely to jump on.”
“What is?” Hardy asked.
“Well, if El Dia prints it, it’s publicity bullshit and sure as hell La Hora isn’t going to run the story.”
“So what are you building your case on?”
Brody crossed a long leg. “Oral contract. Past performance.” He rolled his cigar slowly in his right hand. “Actually, we’re almost to the point of going for a settlement and calling it a moral victory, though don’t quote me on that.”
“Who’s ‘we,’ your clients?”
“We is the firm.”
Hardy followed that. The case was nearly lost. Brody had said almost, and Hardy had known lawyers like Brody who didn’t use the language carelessly. He mentioned it to him.
“We got a private eye looking for dirt on Cruz, but I’m skeptical of finding anything.”
“Why would that even matter?”
Brody shrugged. “As I say, I think it’s a waste of effort, but my clients felt if we got to the last resort, and we’re there now, we might try some form of legal blackmail.”