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Two years ago, Weller had left the public defender’s office after five distinguished years to go into private practice. It had been rough sledding the first year, but business had finally started to pick up. Weller had been in court yesterday with one of his clients when Maxfield was arraigned. He was certain that the famous defendant would hire one of Portland ’s big-name criminal attorneys. When his secretary told him that Joshua Maxfield was calling from the jail, visions of Mercedes began dancing in Weller’s head.

Barry showed his bar card to the corrections officer who was manning the reception desk in the jail, then passed through the metal detector. The jail elevator let him off in a concrete corridor painted pastel-yellow. He rang for the guard and waited nervously in front of a thick steel door. The guard let Weller into another narrow corridor and opened the door to one of the contact visiting rooms in which attorneys met their incarcerated clients.

“Ring when you want out,” the guard said, pointing to a black button affixed to an intercom that was built into the wall. Then he locked the door behind him.

Weller sat on one of two plastic chairs that were separated by a small circular table secured to the floor by metal bolts. He was arranging his note-pad and composing his thoughts when the steel door to the corridor that led to the cells opened. A moment later, Joshua Maxfield entered the contact room.

Maxfield was about Weller’s size. He was dressed in an orange jumpsuit and his hands were manacled, but he didn’t seem to mind. The corrections officer unlocked Maxfield’s chains and motioned Joshua onto the empty chair.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Weller,” Maxfield said as soon as the door closed behind the guard.

“Call me Barry,” Weller responded with a smile.

Maxfield smiled back. “Barry, then. I must tell you that I was flattered when you took my call. Everyone in the jail speaks so highly of you that I assumed you’d be too busy.”

Weller tried to conceal his surprise and pleasure. He’d had some modest successes but he had no idea that his reputation had grown so fast.

“I’m never too busy to take calls from the jail. I know how isolated a person feels when they’re locked up.”

“That’s true. I’ve never been in a situation like this. It’s very unnerving to be totally at the mercy of other people.”

Weller thought Maxfield looked anything but unnerved. In fact, he seemed remarkably composed for a man who was almost certain to face the death penalty.

“Are they mistreating you?”

“I’m fine. Actually,” Maxfield said with a smile, “I watch a lot of crime movies and I was a bit disappointed when no one brought out a rubber hose.”

Weller laughed. Good, he thought. A client with a sense of humor.

“What about when you were arrested?”

“The police were all holding guns and yelling but they calmed down when I told them I wouldn’t resist. Since then, everyone has been a perfect gentleman.”

“Have you been questioned by the police?”

“A little.”

Weller had lost count of the clients who had convicted themselves by talking too freely to the police. He hoped the damage wasn’t irreparable.

“Where was this?” the lawyer asked.

“In Nebraska, after my arrest.”

“Who interrogated you?”

“The two detectives who flew me back to Portland.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Not much. They wanted to know what happened in the boathouse. I told them I didn’t do it.”

“How long did this conversation with the detectives go on?”

“Not long. We just talked for a bit. Then I got suspicious that they were trying to get me to say something incriminating, so I asked for a lawyer and they stopped questioning me.”

“From now on, you don’t discuss your case with anyone, understand?”

“Of course. I’m not stupid.”

“You don’t have to be stupid to say something that can hang you. Even the most innocent statements can be misinterpreted.”

“That couldn’t possibly happen to my statements, Barry. I’m completely innocent.”

Weller smiled but the smile was forced. Before coming to the jail, Barry had demanded discovery from the DA who was handling Maxfield’s case. What he’d read was not good. But before he discussed the facts of the case there was an important matter that Weller had to get out of the way.

“I want to get to the nuts and bolts of your case, Mr. Maxfield…”

“If I’m going to call you Barry, you should call me Joshua.”

“Joshua it is. If we’re going to work together it’s good to be on a first-name basis. But before we decide whether you want me to represent you, you need to know how much my representation is going to cost.”

“Ah, business. Let’s get it over with.”

“I always get the money part out of the way first, so I can concentrate on your case and not get distracted.”

“Terrific.”

“Let me be frank with you. The state is going to go for the death penalty. And we’re talking about more than one murder charge and possibly more than one set of murders.”

Maxfield looked puzzled. “When I was in court the other day all the judge talked about was the murder of Terri Spencer and an assault on Casey Van Meter. What else could there be?”

“The DA has a theory that you’re a serial killer.”

“That’s preposterous.”

“It’s based on a confession they found in your bungalow.”

“What confession?”

This was the first time that Maxfield had displayed any emotion since the interview started. The sudden outburst convinced Weller that the thread that was holding Maxfield together was very thin.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves here, Joshua,” the attorney said. “We need to agree on a fee first. Then we can discuss the DA’s case and our strategy.”

Maxfield seemed anxious to ask more about the confession but he regained his composure.

“What is your fee?” he asked.

“Investigating a capital murder case is not like investigating any other kind of criminal case. A death case is divided into two trials. Every other murder case only has one, the trial to decide guilt or innocence. In a death case, there is a second trial to decide the penalty if the defendant is found guilty of a type of murder that has death as a possible sentence. This second phase starts right after a guilty verdict, so I can’t wait until you’re convicted to prepare for the penalty phase. I have to start that investigation immediately even if we have a strong defense. So we’re really talking about two complex investigations instead of one and, in this case, I may have to investigate a number of murder allegations in Oregon and in other states.”

“Let’s cut to the chase, Barry. What is this going to cost me?”

Weller’s stomach churned as he prepared to state a fee that was far greater than all the fees he’d collected in his two years of private practice.

“I’ll need an immediate retainer of $250,000, but the final amount could be much higher.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That’s great,” Weller said, hiding his surprise.

“In fact,” Maxfield said, “you can count on collecting far more than a quarter of a million dollars.”

Weller looked puzzled. Maxfield grinned. “I’m thinking you’ll end up with at least a million dollars, win or lose. But you’ll have to do a little extra work to earn it.”

“I’m not following you.”