jg.thefirm-第63节

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asually　glanced　around。　The　place　was　dead。　He　looked　along　the　ceilings。　No　cameras。　He　had　checked　it　many　times　before。　The　ACCESS　NUMBER　light　flashed；　and　he　punched　in　the　file　number　for　Mrs。　Lettie　Plunk。　Her　tax　return　was　sitting　on　his　desk　on　the　second　floor；　and　it　could　spare　a　few　copies。　He　laid　the　contents　on　the　automatic　feed；　and　three　minutes　later　the　file　was　copied。　One　hundred　twenty…eight　copies；　charged　to　Lettie　Plunk。　Back　to　the　file　cabinet。　Back　to　the　copier　with　another　stack　of　Gulf…South　evidence。　He　punched　in　the　access　number　for　the　file　of　Greenmark　Partners；　a　real　estate　development　pany　in　Bartlett；　Tennessee。　Legitimate　folks。　The　tax　return　was　sitting　on　his　desk　and　could　spare　a　few　copies。　Ninety…one；　to　be　exact。
　　Mitch　had　eighteen　tax　returns　sitting　in　his　office　waiting　to　be　signed　and　filed。　With　six　days　to　go；　he　had　finished　his　deadline　work。　All　eighteen　received　automatic　billings　for　copies　of　Gulf…South　and　Dunn　Lane　evidence。　He　had　scribbled　their　access　numbers　on　a　sheet　of　notepaper；　and　it　sat　on　the　table　next　to　the　copier。　After　using　the　eighteen　numbers；　he　accessed　with　three　numbers　borrowed　from　Lamar's　files　and　three　numbers　borrowed　from　the　Capps　files。
　　A　wire　ran　from　the　copier　through　a　hole　in　the　wall　and　down　the　inside　of　a　closet；　where　it　connected　with　wires　from　three　other　copiers　on　the　fourth　floor。　The　wire；　larger　now；　ran　down　through　the　ceiling　and　along　a　baseboard　to　the　billing　room　on　the　third　floor；　where　a　puter　recorded　and　billed　every　copy　made　within　。　An　innocuous…looking　little　gray　wire　ran　from　the　puter　up　a　wall　and　through　the　ceiling　to　the　fourth　floor；　and　then　up　to　the　fifth；　where　another　puter　recorded　the　access　code；　the　number　of　copies　and　the　location　of　the　machine　making　each　copy。
　　At　5　P。M。；　April　15；　Bendini；　Lambert　&　Locke　shut　down。　By　six；　the　parking　lot　was　empty；　and　the　expensive　automobiles　reassembled　two　miles　away　behind　a　venerable　seafood　establishment　called　Anderton's。　A　small　banquet　room　was　reserved　for　the　annual　April　15　blowout。　Every　associate　and　active　partner　was　present；　along　with　eleven　retired　partners。　The　retirees　were　tanned　and　well　rested；　the　actives　were　haggard　and　frayed。　But　they　were　all　in　a　festive　spirit；　ready　to　get　plastered。　The　stringent　rules　of　clean　living　and　moderation　would　be　forgotten　this　night。　Another　firm　rule　prohibited　any　lawyer　or　secretary　from　working　on　April　16。
　　Platters　of　cold　boiled　shrimp　and　raw　oysters　sat　on　tables　along　the　walls。　A　huge　wooden　barrel　filled　with　ice　and　cold　Moosehead　greeted　them。　Ten　cases　stood　behind　the　barrel。　Roosevelt　popped　tops　as　quickly　as　possible。　Late　in　the　night；　he　would　get　drunk　with　the　rest　of　them；　and　Oliver　Lambert　would　call　a　taxi　to　haul　him　home　to　Jessie　Frances。　It　was　a　ritual。
　　Roosevelt's　cousin；　Little　Bobby　Blue　Baker；　sat　at　a　baby　grand　and　sang　sadly　as　the　lawyers　filed　in。　For　now；　he　was　the　entertainment。　Later；　he　would　not　be　needed。
　　Mitch　ignored　the　food　and　took　an　icy　green　bottle　to　a　table　near　the　piano。　Lamar　followed　with　two　pounds　of　shrimp。　They　watched　their　colleagues　shake　off　coats　and　ties　and　attack　the　Moosehead。
　　〃Get　'em　all　finished？〃　Lamar　asked；　devouring　the　shrimp。
　　〃Yeah。　I　finished　mine　yesterday。　Avery　and　I　worked　on　Sonny　Capps's　until　five　P。M。　It's　finished。〃
　　〃How　much？〃
　　〃Quarter　of　a　mill。〃
　　〃Ouch。〃　Lamar　turned　up　the　bottle　and　drained　half　of　it。　〃He's　never　paid　that　much；　has　he？〃
　　〃No；　and　he's　furious。　I　don't　understand　the　guy。　He　cleared　six　million　from　all　sorts　of　ventures；　and　he's　mad　as　hell　because　he　had　to　pay　five　percent　in　taxes。〃
　　〃How's　Avery？〃
　　〃Somewhat　worried。　Capps　made　him　fly　to　Houston　last　week；　and　it　did　not　go　well。　He　left　on　the　Lear　at　midnight。　Told　me　later　Capps　was　waiting　at　his　office　at　four　in　the　morning；　furious　over　his　tax　mess。　Blamed　it　all　on　Avery。　Said　he　might　change　firms。〃
　　〃I　think　he　says　that　all　the　time。　You　need　a　beer？〃
　　Lamar　left　and　returned　with　four　Mooseheads。　〃How's　Abby's　mom？〃
　　Mitch　borrowed　a　shrimp　and　peeled　it。　〃She's　okay；　for　now。　They　removed　a　lung。〃
　　〃And　how's　Abby？〃　Lamar　was　watching　his　friend；　and　not　eating。
　　Mitch　started　another　beer。　〃She's　fine。〃
　　〃Look；　Mitch；　our　kids　go　to　St。　Andrew's。　It's　no　secret　Abby　took　a　leave　of　absence。　She's　been　gone　for　two　weeks。　We　know　it；　and　we're　concerned。〃
　　〃Things　will　work　out。　She　wants　to　spend　a　little　time　away。　It's　no　big　deal；　really。〃
　　〃e　on；　Mitch。　It's　a　big　deal　when　your　wife　leaves　home　without　saying　when　she'll　return。　At　least　that's　what　she　told　the　headmaster　at　school。〃
　　〃That's　true。　She　doesn't　know　when　she'll　e　back。　Probably　a　month　or　so。　She's　had　a　hard　time　coping　with　the　hours　at　the　office。〃
　　The　lawyers　were　all　present　and　accounted　for；　so　Roosevelt　shut　the　door。　The　room　became　noisier。　Bobby　Blue　took　requests。　。
　　〃Have　you　thought　about　slowing　down？〃　Lamar　asked。
　　〃No；　not　really。　Why　should　I？〃
　　〃Look；　Mitch；　I'm　your　friend；　right？　I'm　worried　about　you。　You　can't　make　a　million　bucks　the　first　year。〃
　　Oh　yeah；　he　thought。　I　made　a　million　bucks　last　week。　In　ten　seconds　the　little　account　in　Freeport　jumped　from　ten　thousand　to　a　million　ten　thousand。　And　fifteen　minutes　later；　the　account　was　closed　and　the　money　was　resting　safely　in　a　bank　in　Switzerland。　Ah；　the　wonder　of　wire　transfer。　And　because　of　the　million　bucks；　this　would　be　the　first　and　only　April　15　party　of　his　short；　but　distinguished　legal　career。　And　his　good　friend　who　is　so　concerned　about　his　marriage　will　most　likely　be　in　jail　before　long。　Along　with　everyone　else　in　the　room；　except　for　Roosevelt；　Hell；　Tarrance　might　get　so　excited　he'll　indict　Roosevelt　and　Jessie　Frances　just　for　the　fun　of　it。
　　Then　the　trials。　〃I；　Mitchell　Y。　McDeere；　do　solemnly　swear　to　tell　the　truth；　the　whole　truth　and　nothing　but　the　truth。　So　help　me　God。〃　And　he'd　sit　in　the　witness　chair　and　point　the　finger　at　his　good　friend　Lamar　Quin。　And
　　Kay　and　the　kids　would　be　sitting　in　the　front　row　for　jury　appeal。　Crying　softly。
　　He　finished　the　second　beer　and　started　the　third。　〃I　know；　Lamar；　but　I　have　no　plans　to　slow　down。　Abby　will　adjust。　Things'll　be　fine。〃
　　〃If　you　say　so。　Kay　wants　you　over　tomorrow　for　a　big　steak。　We'll　cook　on　the　grill　and　eat　on　the　patio。　How　about　it？〃
　　〃Yes；　on　one　condition。　No　discussion　about　Abby。　She　went　home　to　see　her　mother；　and　she'll　be　back。　Okay？〃
　　〃Fine。　Sure。〃
　　Avery　sat　across　the　table　with　a　plate　of　shrimp。　He　began　peeling　them。
　　〃We　were　just　discussing　Capps；〃　Lamar　said。
　　〃That's　not　a　pleasant　subject；〃　Avery　replied。　Mitch　watched　the　shrimp　intently　until　there　was　a　little　pile　of　about　six　freshly　peeled。　He　grabbed　them　across　the　table　and　shoved　the　handful　into　his　mouth。
　　Avery　glared　at　him　with　tired；　sad　eyes。　Red　eyes。　He　struggled　for　something　appropriate；　then　began　eating　the　unpeeled　shrimp。　〃I　wish　the　heads　were　still　on　them；〃　he　said　between　bites。　〃Much　better　with　the　heads。〃
　　Mitch　raked　across　two　handfuls　and　began　crunching。　〃I　like　the　tails　myself。　Always　been　a　tail　man。〃
　　Lamar　stopped　eating　and　gawked　at　them。　〃You　must　be　kidding。〃
　　〃Nope；〃　said　Avery。　〃When　I　was　a　kid　in　El　Paso；　we　used　to　go　out　with　our　nets　and　scoop　up　a　bunch　of　fresh　shrimp。　We'd　eat　'em　on　the　spot；　while　they　were　still　wiggling。〃　Chomp；　chomp。　〃The　heads　are　the　best　part　because　of　all　the　brain　juices。〃
　　〃Shrimp；　in　El　Paso？〃
　　〃Yeah；　Rio　Grande's　full　of　them。〃
　　Lamar　left　for　another　round　of　beer。　The　wear；　tear；　stress　and　fatigue　mixed　quickly　with　the　alcohol　and　the　room　became　rowdier。　Bobby　Blue　was　playing　Step…penwolf。　Even　Nathan　Locke　was　smiling　and　talking　loudly。　Just　one　of　the　boys。　Roosevelt　added　five　cases　to　the　barrel　of　ice。
　　At　ten；　the　singing　started。　Wally　Hudson；　minus　the　bow　tie；　stood　on　a　chair　by　the　piano　and　led　the　howling　chorus　through　a　riotous　medley　of　Australian　drinking　songs。　The　restaurant　was　closed　now；　so　who　cared。　Kendall　Mahan　was　next。　He　had　played　rugby　at　Cornell　and　had　an　amazing　repertoire　of　raunchy　beer　songs。　Fifty　untalented　and　drunk　voices　sang　happily　along　with　him。
　　Mitch　excused　himself　and　went　to　the　rest　room。　A　bus…boy　unlocked　the　rear　door；　and　he　was　in　the　parking　lot。　The　singing　was　pleasant　at　this　distance。　He　started　for　his　car；　but　instead　walked　to　a　window。　He　stood　in　the　dark；　next　to　the　corner　of　the　building；　and　watched　and　listened。　Kendall　was　now　on　the　piano；　leading　his　choir　through　an　obscene　refrain。
　　Joyous　voices；　of　rich　and　happy　people。　He　studied　them　one　at　a　time；　around　the　tables。　Their　faces　were　red。　Their　eyes　were　glowing。　They　were　his　friends…family　men　with　wives　and　children…all　caught　up　in　this　terrible　conspiracy。
　　Last　year　Joe　Hodge　and　Marty　Kozinski　were　singing　with　the　rest　of　them。
　　Last　year　he　was　a　hotshot　Harvard　man　with　job　offers　in　every　pocket。
　　Now　he　was　a　millionaire；　and　would　soon　have　a