“You’re asking me to put my livelihood at risk for a man I don’t really know. You’re going to have to give me more if I’m going to take this type of risk.”
“I don’t know what I can say. I thought you’d help because you knew him.”
“The man I thought I knew was a gentle person. I’m having trouble reconciling that with what I saw.”
“From what I can tell, he was protecting your son’s coach from a beating.”
“Yes, but there are limits. He stabbed Barney Lutz in the throat. He almost killed him. And what about what he did to the policeman?”
“The policeman came at him from behind. Dan didn’t know who he was.”
“He’s a violent, dangerous man, Ms. Kohler, and my son was around him a lot. God knows what he might have done to him.”
Vanessa stared hard at Ami. “You know in your heart that he would never hurt your boy. You know he’s not like that.”
“You said yourself that you knew him last in the mid-eighties. People change. The man I saw two days ago is a killer.”
Vanessa was on the edge of her chair, leaning forward like a runner at the start of a race. She gripped Ami’s desk so tightly that her knuckles turned white and her eyes bored into Ami’s with such intensity that Ami wondered if her visitor was dangerous.
“If Dan is a killer, I know who made him like that. This man is ruthless. Once he learns that Dan is in Portland, he won’t stop until Dan is dead. The only way to keep him alive is to make a deal with the authorities. I can convince Dan to do that, but I have to meet with him face to face.”
Ami tried to sort out her feelings. What if Kohler was telling the truth? Morelli was an enigma. What Dan had done had shocked and upset her because the Daniel Morelli who had lived at her house and had been so kind to her son was nothing like the man who had acted with such brutal efficiency at Ryan’s game. She liked and respected the artist who had stayed with her, but the violent man who had almost killed Barney Lutz terrified her. Which one was the real Morelli? She decided to take a chance and try to help the man she thought of as a friend.
“Look, Ms. Kohler, I’ll try to visit Dan. I’ll give him a message from you. I’m not going to charge you $25,000, though, because I can’t take the case. Write a check for a $1,500 nonrefundable retainer and I’ll charge you by the hour. If you want help finding a real criminal lawyer, I’ll do that, too.”
Vanessa’s shoulders sagged with relief. She smiled for the first time.
“Thank you, and let’s make the retainer $5,000. I can afford it. There is one thing, though. I don’t want anyone except Dan to know that I’ve retained you. Is that understood? No one can know that I’m in Portland or that I hired you. Can you promise me confidentiality?”
“I’ll keep you out of it,” Ami said. But as Vanessa ripped up her first check and began to write another, Ami thought about what she had just agreed to do and wondered what she had gotten herself into.
CHAPTER SEVEN
As soon as the door closed behind her new client, Ami regretted her decision to visit Morelli. Her fear and doubt increased as she drove to the county hospital and peaked when she opened the door to the office of Dr. Leroy Ganett, the physician in charge of Morelli’s case.
Ganett was a tall, angular man with unruly brown hair who sat with his back to the room’s only window. His office was furnished with a dull gray metal desk and an old wooden bookshelf. Ami introduced herself, and Ganett waved her into a seat in front of a wall covered by his degrees and a picture of him in shorts and a T-shirt standing on a dock beside a gigantic marlin.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Vergano?”
“Daniel Morelli is my client. I want to meet with him.”
“No one told me that the court appointed a lawyer.”
“I’m not court-appointed. I’ve been hired to represent Mr. Morelli.”
Ganett frowned. “I don’t know if I can let you see Morelli without the DA’s approval.”
Ami was afraid that Dr. Ganett would say something like this. She honestly had no idea whether the district attorney could prevent her from seeing Dan. She wasn’t kidding when she told Vanessa Kohler that she knew next to nothing about criminal law. She did remember something that she’d seen on a TV lawyer show, though.
“Dr. Ganett, everyone in America has a right to counsel. It’s guaranteed by the Constitution. The district attorney has no power to keep Daniel Morelli from his attorney. Neither does this hospital.”
Dr. Ganett looked unsure of himself. Ami smiled and addressed him in her most reasonable tone.
“Look, doctor, I don’t have any desire to make a federal case out of this visit, and I’m sure you don’t want to have the hospital dragged into court over an issue it can’t win.”
Ami half hoped that Ganett would refuse to let her see Dan. It was an easy way out. But Ganett shrugged.
“There’s a policeman on duty. If he doesn’t object, I won’t.”
“Thanks. How is Mr. Morelli doing?”
“He’s depressed and withdrawn. He hasn’t said a word to anyone since he got here. But I’d be surprised if he wasn’t depressed. He’s been shot; he’s facing criminal charges. Depression would be normal under these circumstances.”
“What’s his physical condition?”
“He was a mess when we got him. One bullet penetrated the spleen and grazed the left kidney. We had to remove the spleen. Then there was blood loss. He’s on antibiotics and analgesics for the pain, and we’re running some tests because he’s spiking a fever, but considering everything, he’s doing fine.”
Ganett handed Ami a medical report. “Here. You can keep that. It’s a copy.”
Ami scanned the report, and Dr. Ganett translated the medical terminology that Ami did not understand. Morelli’s white count showed a mild leukocytosis with a shift to the left. There were some old scars and evidence of plastic surgery and a flat plate of the abdomen showed metal fragments posterior to the right iliac crest compatible with shrapnel. The hematocrit was stable at 31.
“You wrote that the incision is healing,” Ami asked. “What does that mean in terms of how long Mr. Morelli will be in the hospital?”
“I’m not releasing him to the jail tomorrow, if that’s what you want to know. He still needs to be hospitalized. But he’s pulling through nicely, so he may not be here long.”
“Thanks. Can I see Mr. Morelli now?”
“Sure thing.”
The security ward was on the third floor at the other end of the hospital. A muscular orderly dressed in white pants and a short-sleeved white shirt was reading a paperback western at a wooden table to the right of a metal door. In the center of the door was a small, square window made of thick glass. A push-button bell was affixed to the wall beside the door. The orderly put down his book when he saw Dr. Ganett and Ami approaching.
“Mrs. Vergano is with me, Bill. We want to see Mr. Morelli.”
Bill talked into his radio. A few seconds later, the door swung open. Another orderly was waiting inside. Ami followed Dr. Ganett down a wide hall that smelled of disinfectant. The coffee-colored walls looked as if they could use a coat of paint. A long hall led off to the right. Dr. Ganett turned down it, and Ami saw a policeman seated in front of a door similar to the one at the entrance to the ward. As they got closer to the officer, Ami started to perspire and her stomach turned. She wasn’t doing anything illegal, but she felt as though she was. Ami was certain that the policeman would see through her the moment he looked at her.
“Officer, I’m Leroy Ganett, Mr. Morelli’s doctor. This is Ami Vergano, an attorney who’s been hired to represent Mr. Morelli. She’d like to talk to him.”
The policeman asked Ami for her bar card and picture ID. Ami handed him the card and her driver’s license. While she waited for him to ask the incisive questions that would expose her, the policeman checked her face against her photograph.
“You’ll have to leave your purse out here,” the policeman said as he handed back her ID. “Don’t give the prisoner anything. Okay?”