Delia winced. The Darlington was a luxury hotel a few miles north of here. Wesley handled their legal issues, and it was a lucrative contract.
“How much are we going to lose?” she asked.
“Eight hundred dollars per month, plus two percent interest and a five percent sliding contingency rate.” The answer was typical of Reginald’s painstaking attention to detail when it came to money and financial security.
She and Reginald were kindred spirits in that area. After growing up in an orphanage, Delia paid scrupulous attention to herfinancial security, and losing the Darlington contract was going to hurt the firm. Wesley was a rich man, but he had been losing clients hand over fist ever since he publicly denounced the war.
“You probably put Wesley up to taking the Baumeister case,” Reginald accused. “The two of you are always willing to put principles over profit.”
Delia lifted her chin as she sloshed hot, soapy water on the congealed egg yolk. If anything, she was the one to rein Wesley in from pursuing his more chivalric impulses, but it wouldn’t be wise to point that out to Reginald. There was already gossip in the office about the unusually close relationship she and Wesley shared.
“We’ll simply need to find more business,” she said primly.
“Or perhaps we ought to quit defending Germans.”
That wasn’t going to happen. Wesley was too high-minded to overlook blatant injustice, but they needed something to offset the witheringly bad publicity they’d been getting ever since they volunteered to defend German immigrants who’d been harassed after the war broke out in 1914. Everything got worse once President Wilson brought the United States into the war a mere five months ago.
“I’ll bet you didn’t account for cleaning up this mess in your awe-inspiring daily calendar,” Reginald said.
She hid her smile at Reginald’s backhanded compliment to her “awe-inspiring calendar.” She kept columns for tasks, reminders, a correspondence log, color-coded priority tags, and a deadline tracker.
“I build in a fifteen-minute allowance for unexpected tasks every day,” Delia said, but if she didn’t get this mess cleaned up soon, she’d find herself behind schedule.
“I don’t know why we should even bother scrubbing up,” Reginald said. “We’ll surely get hit again after today’s court case.”
Delia dropped the wire brush back into the bucket to let the blood flow back into her tired arms. A pair of businessmen sent disapproving looks at her as they walked past the law firm on theirway to work. She smiled at them anyway. It was easier to let them believe this didn’t hurt than to show the truth.
“We’ll just have to endure the slings and arrows,” she said with a teasing glance at Reginald. “We should be used to it by now.”
“And yet it never gets easier,” Reginal said before turning his back to retreat inside the office.
Delia’s attempt to clean the building ahead of Wesley’s arrival failed. Her employer showed up earlier than usual and stood before the spattered gunk and painted slurs with an inscrutable expression, yet she knew it had to hurt.
He was dressed for court in a formal charcoal suit, matching vest, and starched collar. His dark hair was immaculately groomed, with only a few strands of gray at his temples. The dismay in his dark eyes caused the faint lines surrounding them to appear a bit deeper.
“The price of business,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “Are we prepared for the Baumeister case?”
She smiled. “We are,” she said with confidence, although she’d need to tidy up first.
It was important to appear prim and businesslike when she sat beside Wesley in court. She always wore a crisp white blouse paired with a dark tie and slim skirt, the female version of a professional business suit. A smock had protected her clothes while she scrubbed the egg yolks, but tendrils of her ebony hair had escaped her chignon and would need to be restyled.
By eleven o’clock they were in court, Delia sitting at Wesley’s right-hand side. As his legal assistant, she compiled case law, drafted preliminary legal documents, and assisted him in the courtroom during his arguments. Her biggest asset to Wesley was her unique memory, able to supply him with instant access to statistics, relevant case law, and catch opposing litigants in contradictions.
She fastened her eyes on Thaddeus Pettigrew, the city’s attorneywho was trying to shut down all German-language publications for the duration of the war. With his pale hair and a wispy mustache, Mr. Pettigrew looked like a callow youth. But his voice rang out like whip.
“Mr. Baumeister’s newspaper is a clear and present danger to our republic,” he said while pacing before the judge’s bench in the walnut-paneled courtroom. “He could be sneaking articles into his paper to stoke anti-American sentiment. He must obey the city ordinance and start publishing his newspaper in English.”
Delia kept her face expressionless as she listened to each word, but inside she cringed for Franz Baumeister who sat on Wesley’s other side. Mr. Baumeister had lived in this country for thirty years. He worked hard, paid his taxes, and employed nine people at his newspaper that catered to the immigrant community. All of it could be lost because of an irrational fear that German language newspapers were disseminating enemy propaganda.
The only time Delia took her eyes off the city’s attorney was to jot a case name on a slip of paper. Wesley was a brilliant attorney, but he didn’t have a mind that could recall chapter and verse from two hundred years of legal tradition. Delia did.
When Mr. Pettigrew stated that the city was entitled to curtail civil liberties in time of war, she jotted downEx parte Milligan,Supreme Court, 1866. It was a landmark case that ruled it was unconstitutional to suppress civil liberties during a time of war without specific evidence of danger.
Wesley glanced at the slip of paper she passed him. It caused a hint of a smile as he folded the note and slipped it inside his jacket, then cooly rose to his feet.
“Your Honor, I would call your attention to the Supreme Court’s decision in the 1866 case ofEx parteMilligan. It firmly established that the government may not suspend the civil liberties of civilians while civil courts are still functioning.”
He continued speaking while Delia settled back in her chair to watch Wesley in action as he eviscerated the competition. Asalways, they were a one-two punch. She supplied Wesley with ammunition, and he wielded it in battle. Over the years they had developed a well-oiled routine in which she did the initial research, and he deployed it in court. He was smart, principled, and the man she adored.
