“Counselor, how’s it hanging?” he said.
“Just fine, Ted,” I said, not wanting to call him by his obvious gang sobriquet of Teddy Bear. “What’s up with you?”
“What happened to the ponytail?”
“Some people objected to it, so I cut it off.”
“A jury, huh? Must’ve been a collection of stiffs from up this way.”
“What’s up, Ted?”
“I got a call from Hard Case over there in the Lancaster pen. He said I might catch you heading south. Said you were stalling his case till you got some green. That right, Counselor?”
It was said as routine conversation. No threat in his voice or words. And I didn’t feel threatened. Two years ago I got an abduction and aggravated assault case against Vogel knocked down to a disturbing the peace. He ran a Saints-owned strip club on Sepulveda in Van Nuys. His arrest came after he learned that one of his most productive dancers had quit and crossed the street to work at a competing club. Vogel had crossed the street after her, grabbed her off the stage and carried her back to his club. She was naked. A passing motorist called the police. Knocking the case down was one of my better plays and Vogel knew this. He had a soft spot for me.
“He’s pretty much got it right,” I said. “I work for a living. If he wants me to work for him he’s gotta pay me.”
“We gave you five grand in December,” Vogel said.
“That’s long gone, Ted. More than half went to the expert who is going to blow the case up. The rest went to me and I alreadyworked off those hours. If I’m going to take it to trial, then I need to refill the tank.”
“You want another five?”
“No, I need ten and I told Hard Case that last week. It’s a three-day trial and I’ll need to bring my expert in from Kodak in New York. I’ve got his fee to cover and he wants first class in the air and the Chateau Marmont on the ground. Thinks he’s going to be drinking at the bar with movie stars or something. That place is four hundred a night just for the cheap rooms.”
“You’re killing me, Counselor. Whatever happened to that slogan you had in the yellow pages? ‘Reasonable doubt for a reasonable fee.’ You call ten grand reasonable?”
“I liked that slogan. It brought in a lot of clients. But the California bar wasn’t so pleased with it, made me get rid of it. Ten is the price and it is reasonable, Ted. If you can’t or don’t want to pay it, I’ll file the paperwork today. I’ll drop out and he can go with a PD. I’ll turn everything I have over. But the PD probably won’t have the budget to fly in the photo expert.”
Vogel shifted his position on the window sill and the car shuddered under the weight.
“No, no, we want you. Hard Case is important to us, you know what I mean? I want him out and back to work.”
I watched him reach inside his vest with a hand that was so fleshy that the knuckles were indented. It came out with a thick envelope that he passed into the car to me.
“Is this cash?” I asked.
“That’s right. What’s wrong with cash?”
“Nothing. But I have to give you a receipt. It’s an IRS reporting requirement. This is the whole ten?”
“It’s all there.”
I took the top off of a cardboard file box I keep on the seat next to me. My receipt book was behind the current case files. I started writing out the receipt. Most lawyers who get disbarred go down because of financial violations. The mishandling or misappropriation ofclient fees. I kept meticulous records and receipts. I would never let the bar get to me that way.
“So you had it all along,” I said as I wrote. “What if I had backed down to five? What would you have done then?”
Vogel smiled. He was missing one of his front teeth on the bottom. Had to have been a fight at the club. He patted the other side of his vest.
“I got another envelope with five in it right here, Counselor,” he said. “I was ready for you.”
“Damn, now I feel bad, leaving you with money in your pocket.”
I tore out his copy of the receipt and handed it out the window.
“I receipted it to Casey. He’s the client.”
“Fine with me.”
