“I see,” Megan said. “I’m not going to ask if you have no shame. I already know the answer to that question. At least lawyers are safer to poke around than Kovacs or Steele.”
“We need to present what we’ve found to Captain Winters’s lawyer,” Leif said. “I found out which partner we’ve got to call.” He turned to Matt. “But I’d like you to do the talking.”
“Why?” Matt asked suspiciously.
“Well, I can’t, because they’d think my alias was Tracey McGonigle,” grumped Megan. “It’s hard to preserve a good reputation with a bunch of lawyers when they’ve got solid proof you’re a scam artist.”
Leif shook his head. She’s never going to let me live this one down, he thought.
Aloud, he said to Matt, “Because you have a good reputation with Net Force…and with Captain Winters.” He turned a mirthless grin toward Megan. “You heard Ms. O’Malley. If Winters heard this from me, he’d probably dismiss it without even listening. You, on the other hand, he might just listen to right through to the end. Admit it — it’s an improvement over claiming innocence without a shred of an alibi.”
“Huh,” Matt said a little bitterly. “You want me to tell Captain Winters and his lawyer because everybody thinks I’m a goody-goody.”
“I want you because you stand a good chance of being believed,” Leif insisted. “If this Laird guy contacts Agent Dorpff, Dorpff’ll give you a good recommendation. Dorpff doesn’t know anything about me.” He hesitated. “Or if he does, I’ll bet it’s not complimentary.”
“So you want to scam this lawyer using my reputation,” Matt began.
“This isn’t a scam — this is Captain Winters’s best hope. I want Laird to hear everything we’ve dug up,” Leif said angrily. “I don’t know what Winters has told him, but it’s obvious to me from what we’re seeing in the media that the law firm isn’t undertaking a vigorous defense. We’ve got a blizzard of news items about the case, all from the prosecution’s point of view. The folks at HoloNews do their poor best to sound fair. They refer to Winters as an ‘alleged’ murderer who’s ‘under investigation,’ but the subtext in every report they file is ‘he dunnit.’”
He was trying not to shout in frustration as he confronted his two friends. “The way things are going right now, unless this lawyer pulls off a miracle, Captain Winters will go to trial. He will probably be convicted. We know he’s innocent. We’ve got to do something.”
“You’re right,” Matt said. “You’ve got your patsy.”
The next morning, during a break between classes, Matt phoned the number Leif had given him. “Mitchell, Liddy, and Laird,” a female voice announced over his wallet-phone.
“My name is Matthew Hunter.” Matt had to fight to keep his voice from rising at the end of the sentence like Leif’s fictitious Tracey McGonigle. “I’m a Net Force Explorer, and I understand that Mr. Laird at your firm is representing the Net Force Explorer liaison officer, Captain James Winters. We’ve been trying to help the captain, and we’ve found out a couple of things that Mr. Laird might want to know.”
The receptionist’s voice was not encouraging. “I’m afraid Mr. Laird is very busy—”
“I don’t expect Mr. Laird will talk to me right off the bat,” Matt said. “But he might check on me with Net Force agent Len Dorpff and with his client, Captain Winters. I think either discussion would change Mr. Laird’s mind.” Matt gave the number for Captain Winters’s old office. That’s where Dorpff would be. He figured the lawyer should have Captain Winters’s home number. “I’ll call again later this afternoon. Perhaps Mr. Laird will speak to me then.”
“Mr. Hunter!” At least Matt managed to surprise a human response out of the receptionist. “Wait!” Matt merely gave Agent Dorpff’s number again, to make sure it was recorded properly.
Then he cut the connection.
By the time he got home after school, Matt was suffering from a bad case of sweating palms. For what had to be the fiftieth time on the trip home, he tapped the pocket containing the datascrip that Leif Anderson had prepared. Matt still wasn’t sure if he had the gumption to pass along his friend’s wild theory—
The autobus came to a stop on Matt’s corner, and he got off. As he unlocked the door of his house, he heard the chime of an incoming call. Mom and Dad were both away at work. Matt dashed into the hall to the nearest holo receiver.
He made the connection, and the image of a face swam into focus on the system’s display — a stranger’s face. A lean-faced man with no-nonsense eyes looked silently at Matt for a long moment. “Matt Hunter?” the man finally said.
Matt nodded.
“I’m Stewart Laird. I understand you called my office this morning in regard to James Winters.”
“I represent a group of Net Force Explorers—” Matt began.
Laird nodded. “So I understand from Agent Dorpff — and from my client. Captain Winters spoke very favorably of you.” The lawyer frowned, then spoke again. “It was the first time he’d been forthcoming since he engaged my services.”
When Laird cleared his throat and hesitated again. Matt began to realize that the lawyer was uncomfortable.
I wonder if he’s got sweaty palms, Matt thought.
“I called you because I’ll listen to whatever you have to say, but first I want to ask a favor,” Laird finally said. “Mr. Winters — that’s how he’s been referring to himself of late — has all but barricaded himself inside his house, using a screening system to ignore most calls. I’d like you to go and see him.”
“I don’t know.” Now it was Matt’s turn to hesitate. “The last time I went out there…”
His voice trickled off.
Stewart Laird nodded. “I know what happened during your last visit. But I also know that when he spoke about you, James Winters actually became animated. I hadn’t seen him act that way since the Net Force Internal Affairs report was issued.”
The lawyer was doing his best to maintain a poker face, but Matt could see the concern in the man’s eyes. “Some people think that all a good legal defense requires is an effective lawyer to argue the case. Your friend Mr. Winters should know better. An apathetic client can sabotage a case as badly, or worse, than an inept attorney.”
Laird’s eyes snapped. “I am not inept. In fact, I have a reputation for being good at what I do. If you want to help James Winters’s defense, you might pay him a visit. My office will bear the charge of round-trip car service.”
The look Laird now sent Matt could almost be called pleading. “I’ve had clients who were innocent, and clients who were guilty. I think I can tell the difference. It…concerns me when I see an innocent man seem to lose all sense of hope.”
15
Matt had barely finished the note telling his parents where he’d be when the gleaming car provided by the law firm rolled up outside his house. Almost before he had time to think about what he’d agreed to, he was in the Dodge sedan on his way to the Maryland suburb where James Winters lived.
The good news was that the driver was beating the rush-hour traffic. The bad news was every minute of this smooth trip brought Matt that much closer to his face-to-face meeting with the captain. Matt wasn’t sure what he would find when he arrived. But it wasn’t likely to be good. Stewart Laird had not struck him as a man who was easily shaken.
Obviously, the way James Winters was taking the developments in the murder case had his lawyer worried.
Not Captain Winters, but Mr. Winters, Matt thought. That has to be a bad sign.