AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The wavering look collapsed into a full retreat. “Let me see some ID. And your State Bar card.”
Jack produced these while his father grinned appreciatively at his son’s artful maneuvering. Jack saw this and whispered, “Save your applause. That was the easy part.”
The guard handed back the ID and card and said, “Which prisoner?”
“He’s accused of killing two people in Madison Heights last Friday. Jerome?”
“Hell, Jerome Washington, you mean?”
“That’s right. Jerome Washington,” said Jack, shooting another look at his father.
The guard sneered, “He don’t need no lawyer. He needs Helen Keller.”
“What?” said a confused Jack.
“A miracle worker, man.” The guard gut-laughed.
“That was actually Helen Keller’s teacher. She was the miracle worker.”
The man stopped his laughing. “You think I give a shit? Go on in and see your client, what good it’ll do you. Or him.”
Jack passed through the front gate and parked the Fiat in an empty space near the main entrance. He grabbed his briefcase and looked at his father. “You can’t come with me.”
Frank Lee’s jaw went slack. “Why the hell not?”
“I’ll be speaking with a potential client. Anything he says to me is confidential, but if you’re there it breaks the attorney-client privilege.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“You never asked. And for God’s sake keep your gun out of sight.”
Inside, Jack was searched by a man with a few wisps of hair left on his head. His rolled-up uniform sleeves revealed a green mermaid tattoo on his right forearm.
“Navy?” asked Jack, pointing at the mark.
The man nodded. “Submariner. Pacific. The Big One.”
“My father was there, too.”
When Jack told the jailer which prisoner he wanted to see, the guard said, “Every colored comes in this place got Washington or Jefferson as their last name. Know why?”
“No, I don’t,” said Jack dully.
“’Cause they don’t know who their daddy is and they just pick themselves a president.” He grinned crookedly, showing off two teeth stuffed with gold.
“Just take me to him,” Jack said brusquely. As they walked along, he asked, “Has he been in front of a judge yet?”
“Arraigned, formally charged, case turned over for trial, and no bail was set; your boy’s here for the duration.”
“Did the grand jury return an indictment?”
“Don’t know nothin’ about that.”
They stopped at a cell door.
“There he is,” said the jailer after opening the door with a dramatic flourish. “President Washington.”
CHAPTER 9
