“But that didn’t happen, because something better did-from Phyllis’s point of view, anyway. Bradshaw got killed, and Marilyn got the blame. It was beautiful. She didn’t have to do anything. Just sit back and let nature take its course. Which would have happened if we hadn’t got lucky.”
There was a knock on the door. Tracy got up and opened it. Fitzpatrick came in, grinning from ear to ear and carrying a bottle of champagne and a folded newspaper.
“So,” he said. “Beer. I might have known. Suppose it would hurt your amateur standing to join me in some champagne?”
“Well, Fitzpatrick,” Steve said. “You’re feeling a little better, I see.”
“I’ll say. You seen the paper? The Daily News got out an extra.”
Fitzpatrick flipped the paper open and held it up. The headline read: “COURTROOM CONFESSION: LAWYER TRAPS WITNESS.”
“And not a quote from you in it,” Fitzpatrick said. “It’s all, ‘Fitzpatrick, speaking for the defense team, stated ….’ I tell you, I never saw an attorney leave court so fast after a trial. What’s the matter, you camera shy?”
“I’ve never been much good with the press,” Steve said. “I figured public relations was a little more in your line. So what did you tell ’em?”
“Whatever they wanted to hear. Of course, I didn’t know the answers, so I made ’em up. I figured it didn’t matter, right?”
“Right. What did they ask you?”
“Did you really compare Margaret Millburn’s fingerprints, or was that just a trick? I told ’em, hell no, you were bluffing. You were, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. What else?”
“Did you have any hard evidence that Bradshaw and Millburn were partners? Was he really playing around with another woman? I told ’em, hell no, it was all bullshit off the top of your head.”
“They like that answer?”
“They ate it up.” Fitzpatrick chuckled. “Christ, I feel good. This morning I didn’t want to talk to anybody, I just wanted to disappear. This afternoon I’m ready to have Odd Couple t-shirts made up and wear ’em to the office. I mean, what a relief.”
“That’s fine,” Steve said. “But we’ve still got the murder of Phillip Harding to contend with if they decide to push the charge.”
Fitzpatrick shook his head. “Not anymore.”
“What?”
“You ran out so fast you missed all the action. Phyllis Kemper broke. I don’t mean she admitted anything. She just cracked up. Snapped. Went off the deep end. Right after you left. They’re taking Margaret Millburn into custody and releasing Marilyn Harding. And Phyllis Kemper stands up and says, ‘No, no, you can’t do that! She didn’t do it! She didn’t kill him! Marilyn did it! Marilyn’s the one! Marilyn! Marilyn!’ Then she gets louder and louder and more and more hysterical, screaming and crying about how it was Marilyn and how it wasn’t fair.”
Fitzpatrick shrugged. “Now it’s not an admission, it’s not a confession, it’s not really anything. It certainly doesn’t prove Phyllis killed Phillip Harding. But after all that, and after what you told Dirkson, there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell they’re gonna prosecute Marilyn on the charge.”
“That might well be, Fitzpatrick, but it still might be a good idea to get Marilyn to give you a substantial retainer to defend her in the event the situation should arise.”
“Me?” Fitzpatrick said. “What about you?”
“She’s your client now,” Steve said. “As far as I’m concerned, my services to Marilyn Harding are finished. Now, I’ll settle up with Douglas Kemper myself. But you might tell Marilyn my fee for my services to her is a hundred thousand dollars. In case she thinks that’s excessive, you might explain to her why it’s actually dirt cheap.”
“I’m sure there’ll be no problem,” Fitzpatrick said. “But why are you cutting yourself off now? You suggested I get a provisional retainer. I’m sure you could get one too.”
“I don’t want it.”
Fitzpatrick frowned. “Why?”
Steve sighed. “Because life isn’t a storybook and you don’t get happy endings. Oh you try. I mean, you’re in here with your champagne, and you’re so happy because we got our clients off. Well, I’m happy too. They didn’t do it, so they should have got off, and everyone likes to win. But happy endings?” Steve grimaced and shook his head. “You see, I don’t like our clients much. They’re spoiled, rich kids. Self-centered, egotistical, playing their little games. Sure, they’re cleared and Phyllis is discredited, and now Doug can divorce her and he and Marilyn can live happily ever after. And am I really supposed to care?
“No, the only one I really feel sorry for is Phyllis Kemper, and she’s probably a murderer. But think about her. Her mother marries into money, dies, and leaves her there, a poor relation in a rich man’s home. Then Douglas Kemper marries her, probably for her money. And there she is, the ugly duckling that failed to become a swan, in over her head and playing in the fast lane with people who are out of her league. Yeah, she probably killed Phillip Harding, but if so, it was her husband and stepsister that drove her to it.
“But, you know, I’ll bet she can’t be convicted of it. Even if they should get enough evidence against her-which they may-after her post-trial performance this afternoon, I’ll bet there isn’t an attorney in the world who couldn’t get her off-not guilty by reason of insanity.
“Which kind of mucks up your happy ending. I don’t know the law, Fitzpatrick. In New York State can you divorce a woman who’s been declared legally insane?”
“I don’t know,” Fitzpatrick said, “I’d have to look it up.”
“It’s an interesting idea,” Steve said. “Wouldn’t it be the crowning irony if Phyllis Kemper got tried for killing Phillip Harding, was proven to be legally insane and then Marilyn and Dougie could live happily ever after, except for the fact that it screwed him out of his divorce?”
Fitzpatrick chuckled and shook his head. “You’re a cockeyed moralist, you know it? You’ll pardon me if I don’t see it that way.”
“Hey,” Steve said, “it’s difference of opinion that makes horse races. And that makes us the ‘Odd Couple,’ Fitzpatrick.”
“Right,” Fitzpatrick said. “Though I doubt if we’ll be handling another case together again soon.” He grinned. “Don’t take that the wrong way. It certainly was an experience. Well, I just stopped by to fill you in. I got another shindig down at my office to get to. I have a feeling I’m a bit of a celebrity down there now.”
Fitzpatrick shook Steve’s hand, grinned and bowed himself out.
“There goes a happy man,” Steve said.
“Well, can you blame him?” Taylor said. “Yesterday he was thinking about misconduct charges, public ridicule and disbarment. Today he just won a murder case.”
“So did we,” Steve said. He grinned. “Don’t let me bring you down, folks. I don’t care for my clients much, but it sure feels good to win.”
Steve heaved himself up out of his chair. “Well gang, it’s been nice talking to you, but I’m getting out of here before some enterprising reporter figures out this is where we hang out.”
Steve nodded to Mark Taylor. “Mark, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He turned to Tracy Garvin. “Tracy, it’s been real nice working with you. I wish you the best of luck. Do keep in touch.”
Tracy stared at him. “What?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “You probably thought I was too busy to notice, but I don’t mean to be an inconsiderate employer, and I realize your two weeks are up.”
Tracy’s face fell. “Oh.”
“You got another job lined up yet?” Steve said. “No one’s called yet for a reference.”
“Steve …”
“Of course, I haven’t found a replacement yet either. I’ve been rather busy. But I’m sure I can get someone from a temporary agency.”
Tracy took off her glasses, folded them, and looked at him in exasperation. “Damn it,” she said.
Steve grinned. “Of course, on the other hand, if you should change your mind and want to stick around.” He chuckled and jerked his thumb at the newspaper Fitzpatrick had left lying on his desk. “It looks like I just might have a law practice after all.”