Lion Plays Rough Read Free Page A

toward Lake Merritt. I sat back down at my place.
    â€œSo do you think he did it?” my brother asked after a minute.
    There was a pause. The old Teddy would never have asked that. Not only would the question never have occurred to him, but also the answer wouldn’t have mattered. The scar in his brow was little more than a dent, half-covered by a lock of hair that had come back gray. Its fissures, though, ran deep.
    â€œProbably,” I said. “Either way, his money’s the same shade.”
    Jeanie squeezed Teddy’s shoulder and went out of the conference room. A moment later I heard her leave. When she’d gone, Teddy retreated to his office. His limp was barely noticeable these days until he got tired. I watched him as he went, and then I looked down with impatience. The old Teddy would have known how to win Jeanie back, but the old Teddy had used up all his chances.
    He’d raised me after our mother’s death and our father’s incarceration. Now it often seemed that the wheel had come full circle, Teddy dependent on me and me the one in practice with Jeanie, who’d once been Teddy’s law partner as well as his wife. I’d had to beg her for this chance, and ever since she’d hired me I’d focused all my attention on showing her she’d made the right decision.
    If by some miracle I managed to win the Scarsdale case, doors would open for me. I could start thinking about getting out from under Jeanie’s wing, opening my own practice, choosing my clients. I was ready—or I thought I was. All I had to do was prove it.

Chapter 3
    The phone rang as I was polishing my black shoes. It was 8:00 pm and I was still at the office. I almost didn’t pick up.
    The operator asked if I would accept a collect call. I told her I would. Jail calls were always collect. “Leo Maxwell?”
    â€œThat’s right.” I held the phone against my shoulder as I rubbed the cloth over the toe of the left shoe.
    â€œThe criminal defense attorney Leo Maxwell? Teddy Maxwell’s brother?” The voice could have belonged to a black man or a white man. It could have been a white man trying to sound black, but that didn’t occur to me until later.
    â€œHe’s not practicing anymore. Are you an old client of his?”
    â€œNah, but I need a lawyer. Guy in here told me about you.”
    I steadied the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Yeah? Who?”
    â€œJust a guy here in Santa Rita.”
    I didn’t have any clients currently in Santa Rita Jail. I wiped my hands. “I’ve got a pretty full caseload right now. Why don’t you give me your name and jail number and tell me what you’re charged with. Just the charge.”
    â€œRobinson, Jamil.”
    â€œJail number?”
    He gave it to me.
    I prodded him again for the charge. “Nah, you got to hear the whole story. And it says here on the wall that these calls are recorded. No way can I tell you what I need over the phone. This is some sensitive shit.”
    â€œFine. I probably don’t have any time to take on a new client right now in any case. Good luck with finding yourself a lawyer, Mr. Robinson.”
    I was about to hang up when he said, “My sister’s on her way to see you. She’ll tell you what you need to know. She’s the one who gave me your card, dawg. You met her this morning.”
    â€œI’m still going to need to know what the charge is.”
    â€œMy sister will tell you all about it. You at 580 Grand?”
    â€œThat’s what it says on the card. You going to tell me the charge?”
    â€œYou make up your mind. There’s plenty of lawyers in the book.”
    ~ ~ ~
    Less than ten minutes later the phone rang again. “Mr. Maxwell? This is Lavinia Martin. We met this morning. I’m here on behalf of my brother, Jamil Robinson. Are you going to keep me standing on the sidewalk at this hour, or shall I come