The Associate

Kyle explained that he didn’t play much. The basketball talk dragged on, and Kyle cut things off by saying, "Look, Mr. Benedict – "

"It’s Roy."

"Okay, Roy, I can’t spend too much time here because I’m being followed."

A few seconds passed as Roy allowed this to sink in. "And why is a first-year associate at the biggest law firm in the world being followed?"

"I have a few problems. It’s complicated, and I think I need a lawyer."

"I do nothing but white-collar crime, Kyle. Have you screwed up in that area?"

"Not yet. But I’m being pressured to commit a whole list of crimes."

Roy bounced a pencil on his desk, tried to think of how to proceed.

"I really need a lawyer," Kyle said.

"My initial retainer is fifty grand," Roy said and watched carefully for a response. He knew within $10,000 how much Kyle was earning as a first-year associate. His firm didn’t try to compete with Scully & Pershing, but it came close.

"I can’t pay that much. I have five thousand in cash." Kyle yanked an envelope from his pocket and tossed it on the desk. "Give me some time, and I’ll get the rest."

"What does this case involve?"

"Rape, murder, theft, wiretapping, extortion, blackmail, and a few others. I can’t give you the details until we reach an agreement."

Roy nodded, then smiled. "There’s someone following you now?"

"Oh, yes. I’ve been under surveillance since early February, back at Yale."

"Is your life in danger?"

Kyle thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe so."

The air was thick with unanswered questions, and Roy’s curiosity got the best of him. He opened a drawer and withdrew some papers. He scanned them quickly  –  three sheets stapled together –  added some notes with a pen, then slid them across. "This is a contract for legal services."

Kyle read it hurriedly. The initial retainer had been reduced to $5,000. The hourly rate cut in half, from $800 to $400. Kyle had just recently accepted the fact that he charged $400 an hour. Now he would be the client paying that much. He signed his name and said, "Thanks."

Roy took the envelope and placed it in the drawer. "Where do we begin?" he asked, and Kyle sank deeper into his chair. A huge weight was leaving him. He wasn’t sure if the nightmare was coming to an end or if he was digging a deeper hole, but the fact that he had someone to talk to was beyond comforting.

Kyle closed his eyes and said, "I don’t know. There’s so much ground to cover."

"Who’s following you? Government agents of some sort?"

"No. Private thugs. Very good ones. And I have no idea who they are."

"Why don’t we start at the beginning?"

"Okay."

Kyle began with Elaine, the party, the accusations of rape, the investigation. He introduced Bennie and his boys, his blackmail, the video, his covert mission to steal documents from Scully & Pershing. He produced a file and spread out the photos of Bennie, along with the composites of Nigel and two of the street thugs who’d been following him.

"Bennie Wright is just an alias. The guy probably has twenty names. He speaks with a slight accent that’s probably eastern European. Just a guess."

Roy studied the photo of Bennie.

"Is there a way to identify him?" Kyle asked.

"I don’t know. Do you know where he is?"

"Here, in New York. I saw him on Saturday, and I’ll meet him again tomorrow night. He’s my handler. I’m his asset."

"Keep talking."

Kyle removed another file and went through the basics of the Trylon-Bartin war, and in doing so discussed only the facts that had been published in news stories. Even though Roy was his lawyer and sworn to confidentiality, Kyle was a lawyer, too, and his client expected the same. "It’s the largest Pentagon contract in history, so it’s potentially the biggest lawsuit ever filed."

Roy spent a few minutes scanning the articles, then said, "I’ve heard of it. Keep talking."

Kyle described the surveillance and eavesdropping, and Roy forgot about Trylon and Bartin. "Wiretapping carries five years, federal," he said.

"Wiretapping is nothing. What about murder?"

"Who got murdered?"

Kyle raced through Joey’s involvement, then the surprising arrival of Baxter and his desire to reach out to the girl. He handed over a dozen newspaper reports on the random shooting of Baxter Tate.

"I saw something about this in the news," Roy said.

"I was a pallbearer at his funeral last Wednesday," Kyle said.

"I’m sorry."

"Thanks. The cops have no clue. I’m sure Bennie ordered the hit, but the killers have vanished."

"Why would Bennie kill Baxter Tate?" Roy alternated between scribbling notes, looking at the face of Bennie Wright, and picking through the file, but for the most part he just shook his head in confusion and disbelief.

"He had no choice," Kyle said. "If Baxter succeeded in making some harebrained confession to Elaine, which certainly appeared likely, then the events that follow are out of control. I think the girl goes nuts, cries rape again, and I’m dragged back to Pittsburgh along with Joey and Alan Strock. My life is derailed. I leave the firm, leave New York, and Bennie loses his asset."

"But with Baxter dead, doesn’t the rape case lose some steam?"

"Yes, but the video is still out there. And believe me, we want no part of it. It’s brutal."

"But it doesn’t implicate you?"

"Only for being a drunken idiot. When the sex begins, I’m nowhere to be seen. I don’t even remember it."

"And you have no idea how Bennie got the video?"

"That’s the greatest question of all, one that I’ve asked myself every hour for the past nine months. The fact that he somehow heard of the video, then stole it or bought it, is something I cannot comprehend. I don’t know which is more terrifying  –  the video itself or the fact that Bennie got his hands on it."

Roy was shaking his head again. He stood and unfolded his gangly frame. He stretched and kept shaking his head. "How many interns did Scully & Pershing hire the summer before last?"

"Around a hundred."

"So Bennie and his group get the names of a hundred summer interns, and they investigate them, looking for an Achilles’ heel. When they get to your name on the list, they snoop around Pittsburgh and Duquesne. They probably hear about the rape, lean on someone in the police department, get the rape file, and decide to dig even deeper. The file is closed, so the cops talk more than they should. There was the rumor about a video, but the cops could never find it. Somehow, Bennie does."

"Yep."

"He’s got plenty of money and plenty of people."

"Obviously, so who’s he working for?"

Roy glanced at his watch, frowned, and said, "I have a meeting at three." He grabbed his desk phone, waited, then barked, "Cancel my three o’clock. And no interruptions." He fell into his chair and rubbed his chin with his knuckles.

"I doubt if he works for APE. I cannot believe that a rival law firm would spend this kind of money to break so many laws. It’s inconceivable."

"Bartin?"

"Much more probable. Plenty of money, plenty of motive. I’m sure Bartin is convinced the documents were stolen from them, so why not steal them back?"

"Any other suspects?"

"Oh, please, Kyle. We’re talking about military technology. The Chinese and the Russians prefer to steal what they can’t develop.