Corridor Man Read Free Page B

damn it.”
    “Yes sir,” the brothers said and then sort of just stood there and stared at their feet.
    “Go on, get the hell out of here and make this right while I’m still in a forgiving frame of mind,” Montcreff shouted, and then glared, providing some additional incentive, not that any had been needed.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Bobby took the driver’s license test on a computer and in less than twenty minutes was informed he’d managed to fail. Do you park five, ten or fifteen feet from a fire hydrant? Who the hell cares? He knew enough not to park in front of one, but apparently the Minnesota Licensing Bureau cared a little more than Bobby did. The clerk flashed a quick civil service smile from behind the counter before she handed back his exam.
    “Apparently we have some work to do. Here is your exam booklet, you might want to study this. There’s an online site listed on page three of your booklet. This will allow you to take a practice exam. Maybe a couple of them,” she added as an afterthought. “You can sit for your next exam five days from now, that would be on the, let’s see, yes the seventh. Questions?”
    He felt like asking why the questions on the exam were so stupid, but instead said, “No, see you in five days, thank you.” Then he folded the exam in a half-hearted attempt to disguise his failure and headed for the door.
    The main lobby of the courthouse had floors of polished white marble. Black marble piers rose up three stories to a gold leaf ceiling. Bobby had spent a good part of his previous life in here groveling and working various angles and schemes on behalf of clients.
    Back then, he’d known all the nooks and crannies, which restrooms were empty and when. He had developed an internal radar that apprised him of when and where court was in session. He knew which deputies were friendly and which ones to stay clear of. He knew who liked bourbon, who liked beer and who was a teetotaler. He knew a lot of the secrets and made up some of the lies. But that was then. Now, he was an outsider, just another tourist, or even worse, well, best not to go there.
    He wandered past some old haunts before he’d taken the elevator up to the third floor, lost in distant vague memories, the hustle, the drama, the pressure, the…
    “Bobby? Bobby, is that you?” As he inspected Bobby his flushed face moved up and down, audibly scraping his chins against the heavily starched collar.
    “Well hello, Ben, yeah it’s me.”
    Bennett Hinz, Esquire. A prick if there ever was one. He’d been ahead of Bobby in law school, light years ahead of him in the scheme of life. On one side a family fortune he had nothing to do with other than inherit, on the other a seemingly bottomless trust fund. The sun seemed to rise and set on Bennett, which probably accounted for the tan face contrasting with his white shirt and the mane of silver hair combed back like some retired rock star. Bennett was the Hinz in Denton, Allan, Sawyer and Hinz the law firm who was going to hire Bobby with the help of some federal persuasion. The firm was known as DASH in hallway parlance.
    “When did you get back? It was seven years wasn’t it? God, has it really gone by that quickly?”
    “I made it out in a little more than four,” Bobby said almost in a whisper.
    “That-a-boy, can do. Fresh start, eh, Bobby,” Ben said, giving a go-for-it sort of nod. It was one of the many negatives with Benny. Always sounding like Mr. Positive although Bobby was pretty certain Ben Hinz never, ever had had to deal with anything remotely resembling adversity.
    “Yeah, that’s what I’m doing, Ben starting fresh.”
    Ben nodded as if he had some vague notion of what Bobby was talking about. Then he gave the proverbial, “Great chatting, Bobby. I’d better get a move on, things to do, places to be, you probably remember what it’s like.”
    “Nice seeing you again, Ben.”
    Bobby watched as Ben waddled a few steps toward the bank of