The Devil's Advocate (7 page)

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Authors: Andrew Neiderman

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BOOK: The Devil's Advocate
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Kevin nodded. "It sounds ... wonderful. Of course, I'll have to discuss it with my wife," he added quickly.

"Of course. Now," John Milton said, rising, "let's just talk about the law for a moment and let me give you my philosophy.

"Law should be strictly interpreted and strictly enforced. Justice is a resulting benefit, but it is not the reason for the legal system. The legal system is designed to maintain order, keep all men in check." He turned at the corner of his desk to look down at Kevin and smile again. "All men, the so-called agents of good as well as the criminal element.

"Compassion," John Milton continued, like a lecturing college professor, "is admirable in its place but has no place in the system because it's subjective and imperfect and subject to change, whereas law can be perfected and remain timeless and universal."

He paused and looked at Kevin, who nodded quickly.

"I think you understand everything I am saying and agree with it."

"Yes," Kevin said. "Maybe I haven't put it exactly in those terms, but I do."

"We are advocates, first and foremost, and as long as we remember that, we will succeed," John Milton said, his eyes blazing with determination. Kevin was mesmerized. When John Milton spoke, he spoke in undulating rhythms, so soft at times that he felt as if he was reading the man's lips and repeating phrases in his own voice.

And then, suddenly he would be dynamic, his voice forceful and vibrant.

Kevin's heart beat quickly, a flush coming into his face. The last time he remembered feeling this excited was when he was on the high school basketball team and they were playing the game that would determine their league championship. Their coach, Marty McDermott, had made a locker-room speech that sent them sailing out on the court with enough fire in their hearts to burn away the whole league. He couldn't wait to get his hands on the ball. Now, he couldn't wait to get back into court.

John Milton nodded slowly. "We understand each other more than you imagine, Kevin; and as soon as I realized that, I instructed Paul to make overtures." He stared at Kevin for a moment and then smiled. It was almost an impish smile. "Take this last case you tried ..." John Milton settled back in his seat, a more relaxed posture this time.

"Lois Wilson, the schoolteacher accused of abusing children?"

"Yes. Your defense was brilliant. You saw the weak spots in the prosecution's case and you surged forward, concentrating on them."

"I knew the principal had it in for her and I knew the other little girls were lying ..."

"Yes," John Milton said, leaning forward, his arms extended over the desk as if he wanted to embrace Kevin. "But you also knew Barbara Stanley was not lying and that Lois Wilson was guilty."

Kevin just stared.

"Oh, you weren't completely sure, But in your heart you thought she had abused Barbara Stanley and that Barbara Stanley, afraid to come forward by herself, worked her friends into a frenzy and got them to join her. That idiot principal was anxious to get the teacher.. ."

"I don't know all that for sure," Kevin said slowly.

"It's all right," John Milton said, smiling again. "You did what you had to do as her advocate." John Milton stopped smiling. In fact, he looked angry. "The prosecution should have done the kind of homework you did. You were the only
real
attorney in that courtroom," he added. "I admire you for it and want you here working with me. You're the kind of attorney who belongs here, Kevin."

Kevin wondered how John Milton knew so much about the Lois Wilson case, but that curiosity didn't linger. There were too many distractions, too many wonderful things to think about now. They went on to talk about salary, and he discovered Paul Scholefield had not exaggerated. It was twice what he was making at his present firm. Mr. Milton said he would make arrangements for Kevin and Miriam to move into their apartment immediately if Miriam approved. As soon as he finished, Mr. Milton buzzed his secretary and asked her to fetch Paul Scholefield. Paul arrived instantly, as if he were just standing outside the door, waiting.

"He's back in your hands, Paul. Kevin, welcome to our family," John Milton said, extending his hand. Kevin took it and they shook firmly.

"Thank you."

"And as I told you, all the arrangements for your moving into the apartment will be taken care of before the weekend. You can bring your wife in any time to look at it.""Thanks again. I can't wait."

John Milton nodded with understanding.

"Quite a man, isn't he?" Paul said softly as they left the office.

"Extraordinary how he gets right to the heart of things. There's a no-nonsense air about him, yet I didn't feel he was all business. He was very warm, too."

"Oh yes. To be honest," Paul said, pausing in the corridor, "all of us love the guy.

He's like ... a father."

Kevin nodded. "Yes, that's the way I felt." He looked back. "As if I was sitting and talking with my father."

Paul laughed and put his arm around Kevin, and they continued down the corridor, stopping at Dave Kotein's office. Dave was closer to Kevin's age, being only thirty-one.

He, too, was a graduate of NYU Law, and they immediately reminisced about the professors they had in common. Dave was a slim, five-feet-ten-inch-tall man with light brown hair cut short, almost as close as a military cut. Kevin thought Miriam would find him cute because he had baby blue eyes and a soft, pleasing smile and in some ways reminded him of her younger brother, Seth.

Despite his slender frame, Dave had a deep, resonant voice, the kind of voice chorus directors sell their souls to get into their ensembles. Kevin imagined him in court, cross-examining a witness, his voice reverberating over the heads of an attentive audience. From their introduction, Kevin sensed that Dave Kotein was a sharp, highly intelligent man. Later Paul would tell him Dave Kotein had graduated in the top five of his class at NYU and could have worked at a number of prestigious New York or Washington firms.

"Let me continue the tour," Paul said. "You and Dave will have many opportunities to get to know each other, as will your wives."

"Great. Any children?" Kevin asked.

"Not yet, but soon," Dave replied. "Norma and I are at about the same point you and Miriam are," he added. Kevin started to smile but then thought how odd it was they knew about his personal life, too.

Paul anticipated the thought. "We make a complete study of a prospective associate," he said, "so don't be surprised at just how much we already know about you."

"Sure this isn't a branch of the CIA?"

Dave and Paul looked at each other and laughed.

"I felt the same way when Paul and Mr. Milton were considering me."

"We'll talk to you later," Paul said, and he and Kevin left to go to the law library.

The law library was twice the size of Boyle, Carlton, and Sessler's and fully updated. There was a computer which Paul Scholefield explained was tied into police records, even federal records, as well as a mainframe that would feed them precedent cases and investigative information so they could understand and examine police reports and forensic evidence. One of the secretaries was at the keyboard entering in new information provided by one of their private investigators.

"Wendy, this is Kevin Taylor, our new associate. Kevin, Wendy Allan."

The secretary turned around, and once again Kevin found himself taken aback by a beautiful face and figure. Wendy Allan looked to be twenty-two or twenty-three years old. She had peach-colored hair layered softly with sweeping bangs that were feathered over her forehead. Her chestnut brown eyes brightened as she smiled.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Wendy will double as your secretary and Dave's until we hire a new one,"

Scholefield explained. Kevin smiled to himself with the thought that soon he would have his own secretary.

"Look forward to working with you, Mr. Taylor."

"Likewise."

"We'd better catch Ted," Paul whispered. "I just remembered he's got to take a deposition this afternoon."

"Oh, sure."

He followed Paul out, looking back once to ingest the smile Wendy Allan still offered.

"How do you keep your mind on your work with such beautiful women around?"

Kevin asked, half kidding. Paul stopped and turned to him.

"Wendy and Diane are beautiful, and as you will see, so are Elaine and Carla, but each is a top-notch secretary, too." Paul smiled and looked back at the library.

"Mr. Milton says most men have a tendency to think beautiful women are not intelligent. He once won a case because a prosecutor thought just that. Remind me to ask him to tell you about it one day. By the way," he added, lowering his voice,

"Mr. Milton hired all the secretaries personally."

Kevin nodded, and they continued on to Ted McCarthy's office.

In many ways McCarthy reminded Kevin of himself. He was two years older and about Kevin's height and of similar build, only he had black hair, a much darker complexion, and dark brown eyes. But both had been bora and bred on Long Island. McCarthy had lived in Northport and attended Syracuse University Law School.

Like Miriam, Ted McCarthy's wife had also been brought up on the Island. She had been a physician's receptionist in Commack. They, too, had no children yet but were planning to have some soon.

Kevin sensed that Ted McCarthy was a precise man. He sat behind a large black oak desk, his papers neatly organized beside a large silver-framed photograph of his wife and another silver-framed photograph of him and his wife on their wedding day. His office was rather spartan compared to Dave Kotein's and Paul Scholefield's, but there was more of a sense of order and tidiness.

"Pleased to meet you, Kevin," McCarthy said, rising from his seat when Paul introduced them. Just like Dave and Paul, Ted had an impressive speaking voice with sharp, clear diction. "From the way Mr. Milton and Paul described you, I knew you'd be with us soon."

"Seems everyone knew before I did," Kevin quipped.

"It was the same way for me," Ted said. "I had been working in my father's firm and had absolutely no intention of leaving, when Paul approached me. By the time I came up here to meet Mr. Milton, I was already working out how I would break the news to my father."

"Extraordinary."

"There's hardly a day that passes without something exciting happening. And now with you joining us ..."

"I'm really looking forward to it," Kevin said.

"Good luck and welcome aboard," Ted said. "I have to run off to take a deposition involving a client accused of raping his next-door neighbor's teenage daughter."

"Really?"

"Tell you about it at our staff meeting," Ted said.

Kevin nodded and started to follow Paul out. He paused at the doorway. "One thing I'd like to know, Ted," Kevin said, wondering how Miriam, her parents, and his would react to his decision.

"Sure."

"How did you break the news to your father?"

"I told him how much I wanted to specialize in criminal law and how impressed I was with Mr. Milton."

"But you had a family firm to inherit, didn't you?"

"Oh ..." Ted smiled and shook his head. "After a short while you'll see that this is a family firm, too."

Kevin nodded, impressed with Ted's sincerity.

Kevin returned to what would be his office and sat behind the big desk. He leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head, and then spun around to look out over the city. It made him feel like a million dollars. He couldn't believe his luck—a rich firm, a rent-free luxury apartment in Manhattan ...

He turned back and looked into the drawers of the desk. Clean pads, new pens, a fresh diary book— everything was there. He was about to close the lower side drawer when something caught his eye. It was a small jewelry case.

He took it out and opened it and looked down at a gold pinky ring with the initial "K" carved into it.

"Trying the chair out for size?" Paul said, stepping in.

"What? Oh. Yeah. What is this?" He held out the ring.

"Found that already, huh? Just something from Mr. Milton, a welcoming gift.

He did it for all of us."

Kevin took the ring out of the case gingerly and tried it on. It was a perfect fit.

He looked up with surprise, but Paul didn't seem at all amazed.

"It's those little things, the way he takes the time to show us how committed he is to us as people, that makes the difference here, Kevin."

"I can see that." Kevin thought for a moment and then looked up from his ring.

"But how did he know I would take the job?"

Paul shrugged.

"Like I said, he's a great judge of character."

"Amazing." He looked around the office. "This man .. . Jaffee?"

"What about him?"

"No one could see it coming?"

"We knew he was depressed. Everyone pitched in. Mr. Milton hired a nurse for the infant. We did all that we could, called him, visited with him. We all feel guilty; we all felt responsible."

"I wasn't implying ..."

"Oh no," Paul said. "We all live in the same apartment building. We should have been able to help him."

"All of you live in the same apartment building?"

"And you will, too. In fact, you'll be taking over Jaffee's apartment."

Kevin just stared. He wasn't sure how Miriam would take to that.

"How did he ... did he do it?"

"He jumped from his patio. But don't worry," Paul said, smiling quickly, "I don't think the apartment is cursed."

"Just the same, it might be wise for me to hold back that information from my wife."

"Oh, by all means. At least until you're settled in and she can see for herself how safe and comfortable you are. In time a herd of wild elephants won't be able to drag her away!"

4

It wasn't until Kevin was about to turn off the expressway that he realized just how much of his and Miriam's life he would be changing. Not that he regretted any of it—

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