When she walked into her apartment Jan found Eleanor asleep on the sofa. The red message light was flashing on her phone. She walked over to the desk and pressed the play button.

“Jan, this is Harry. That incident at the office yesterday caused a big stir in the office. We had some important people here who saw what happened. We can’t afford to have people thinking we’re crazy, or incompetent, uncontrollable. I want you to take a couple weeks off to square things away. Get your life in order for God’s sake. Do whatever you have to do, but I want to see a different Jan when you return. Meanwhile, I’ve reassigned your workload to Susie. We’re closing for three days next week, so you won’t miss much work time. Merry Christmas.”

Jan frowned and shook her head. “Reassigned to Susie? Damn you Harry.”

She felt something soft rubbing against her leg. Eleanor looked up at her, purring for attention. Jan picked her up, and went to the sofa. “Well, looks like it’s just you and me, babe. Where would you like to go? Hawaii? Miami? We won’t have to buy you a plane ticket; you can sit on my lap.”

She sat still, looking out the window at the barren Winter tree tops that lined the street, reflecting on the day, on what she saw earlier. “Maybe we should stay home,” she told Eleanor.

Jan put the cat on the floor, walked over to her desk and picked up the phone. She punched zero for the operator.

“Connect me to the police station please.”

A few moments later, “Yes…I saw a man being arrested near eighth and L earlier today. He was carrying an instrument case. He looked like someone I know. What was he arrested for? Oh…I see…thanks.” Jan hung up the phone, reflected for a few moments, then she went into the bedroom.

Sometime later she stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair, wearing a bright yellow blouse and an emerald green skirt. She started to apply lipstick. “What the hell am I doing,” she said to herself. She put down the lipstick, wiped her lips with a tissue, and walked out of the room.

Ten minutes later Jan parked her car in front of a small, two story, red-brick building on 14th street. She fed quarters to the parking meter, slung her purse over her shoulder, and went in to the building.

To the left of the entrance the sign on the double mahogany doors read: Karl Dorell, Attorney at Law. Jan pushed through the double doors and walked up to the reception desk, where a bright-eyed young woman sat reading a magazine and chewing gum.

“Hello Christy,” said Jan, raising her voice enough to catch the girl’s attention.

The girl looked up quickly and switched on a falsetto smile. “Welcome back…or maybe I shouldn’t say welcome back.”

Jan frowned. “Is Karl in?”

“I’ll give him a ring.” She pushed a button on the phone. “Misses Lipschitz is back. She wants to talk to you.” She looked up at Jan. “He said you can go right in.”

“Thanks, and the name is Lehman…Miss Lehman.”

Jan walked over to another tall wooden door that led to a long narrow corridor. At the end of the hallway she walked through yet another door with the name Karl Dorell on the door.

“Jan, what brings you back so soon? We signed the papers three days ago.”

Karl Dorell stood up and gestured to a leather chair in front of his desk. He was an aging, jolly looking fellow with a double-chin and a pair of exceptionally large, marble-shaped eyes that moved counter clock-wise when people were speaking. He had a paunch, but he also had wide, broad shoulders and a pair of good-sized hips to support the bulging middle-aged stomach that afflicts ninety percent of men over the age of fifty. His gray pin-striped trousers were held up by a pair of ivory colored suspenders over a plain white shirt. His desk was a cluttered mess of briefs and books. A long cigar burned in an ashtray as a thin wisp of smoke rose toward the ceiling until it vanished in the reeking air. Dorell reached for the cigar as he lowered his bulk into the over-sized swivel chair behind the massive desk.

“I have a dilemma, Karl,” Jan said as she sat down. “I need some advice.”

“Is Peter rubbing the divorce settlement in your face?”

Jan smiled. “No, actually I rubbed something in his face…a plate full of food. I scored a direct hit.” She pushed her hand through the air to demonstrate.

Dorell chuckled. “Is that your revenge?”

“I’m not out for revenge. I only want peace.”

“What can I do for you Jan?”

She zeroed in on the burning cigar as he puffed away. “The first thing you can do is put out that damn cigar. I can hardly breathe from that awful smoke.”

Dorell slowly, reluctantly removed the cigar from his mouth and stubbed it out in the ashtray. “All right…what else can I do for you?”

Jan took a deep breath. She leaned forward until her elbows rested on the edge of his desk. “The other night someone tried to rape me outside a night club. Another man came to my rescue and whacked the creep with a fire extinguisher. What we didn’t know is that the creep happens to be a cop. He was off-duty when he attacked me. He saw the guy who helped me on the street this morning and arrested him. I phoned the police station. They told me he’s been charged with assault and robbery. That cop is a vindictive bastard. I can’t let the guy go to jail for this. He did what he had to do to stop that creep. The cop is the one who should be punished.”

“Were there any other witnesses to what happened?” asked Dorell.

“No, I’m the only witness for him, and he’s the only witness for me. What’s worse, he told me he’s been in prison before. For what crime I have no idea.”

Dorell shook his head. “Jan, it’s your word against the cop’s, or his word against the cop’s. Unless the cop has a history of violence that can be proved, it would be damn difficult to make the case against him.”

“What If I brought charges against him for attempted rape?”

“Rape is difficult to prove under the best circumstances. And if he didn’t actually rape you it would be almost impossible. Your only witness is under arrest. This is a messy situation. It sounds like a plot for one of those books your company publishes.”

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

Jan thought about that for a second. “You think so? A book? It could be the first few chapters…but God knows how it ends.”

“I’d like to help you Jan, but this is a criminal case. I’m a divorce lawyer. You should talk to a defense attorney.”

“You know someone?”

“As a matter of fact, there’s a young guy across the hall who moved in recently. He works alone. Pleasant fellow. “His name is Wes. I can’t remember his last name. Knock on his door. He might be able to help.”

“Okay, but tell me Karl…what would you do?”

“Me? I’d forget about it. But I’m a lawyer. Lawyers aren’t heroes.”

“I don’t want to be a hero, Karl. But I want to do the right thing.”

“You’re a good person, Jan. Do what you think is right.”

Jan nodded and stood up. “You can go back to your cigar, Karl.” She smiled and walked out of the office.

The sign read ‘Wesley Russell, Attorney’. Below the sign was a hand-written note taped to the plain white door near the lobby. The note, scribbled in barely legible English, read: ‘went to lunch’, back at 2’. Jan checked her watch and left the building.

Five minutes later she walked into Bernardo’s, a popular restaurant and bar at Capitol and 28th, an unpretentious noisy hang-out for the young and the restless. Jan placed her order, paid, and took a seat in a booth near the bar.

“Jan?”

She looked up and saw Susie Hampton standing near the bar with a couple of young women from the office. Susie waved and walked over to the booth.

“Hi Jan. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Oh…why?”

“Harry told me you were on vacation. I thought you might have left town.”

“No, I decided to hang around the area. What about you?”

“I’m on lunch break. We’re going back to the office soon.”

“Are you looking at manuscripts Susie?”

Susie hesitated. “Yes… Harry said I could intern for a while until you return. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jan definitely did mind, but she decided to put on her happy face. “You aren’t after my job, are you?”

Susie’s face went red. “Oh no…I’m filling in for you.”

Jan nodded, but didn’t believe her. She decided to switch subjects. “How’s your love life?”

Susie brightened. “Good…really good. We met at the Blue Angel. You like to hang out there, don’t you?”

Jan saw again the face of the cop in the dim-lit night club and the attack in the alley. She forced herself to smile. “Yes, that’s right.”

Susie glanced over her shoulder at the two girls by the bar. One of them pointed to her watch. “Sorry, I have to go.” She waved to Jan and joined the other two girls as they left the restaurant.

Back at the lawyer’s office, Jan took a seat on a wooden bench in the lobby. The ‘back at 2’ sign was still on the door. Half an hour passed until the door to the building opened and a young man, about thirty years old, walked in carrying an armful of books. He stumbled a bit, and some of the books dropped on the floor. Jan watched him struggle for a few moments, then she got up and walked over to assist.

“Let me help you with those,” she said, as she bent over to pick up the books. She glanced at the title on one of them.

He looked at Jan, then took the books from her and smiled. “Thanks…I don’t normally carry this many, but the cardboard box broke open when I lifted it from the car. They were all over the ground out there.” He lifted the books up and down as if weighing them in his arms. “Too many laws on the books…if you know what I mean.”

“I do. You must be Wesley.”

“Yes. Were you waiting for me?”

“For half an hour. You must have had a hot luncheon date.”

“I had to take my mother to the doctor. She’s going in for cataract surgery next week.” He walked over to the door and fumbled for his keys.

“I’ll open it for you,” Jan said.

He handed her the keys. “Thanks…it’s the big silver key,” he said.

Jan unlocked the door. “After you,” he said.

She entered and he followed her in to the rather small, non-descript office. He dropped the books on his desk and Jan handed him the keys.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said. “I’m still getting moved in.”

Jan glanced around the office. There were boxes on the floor; a couple of tall, narrow, portable bookcases leaned against the wall on either side of the hollowed-out desk. A small file cabinet stood on one side of the desk, and on the other side a water-cooler. There was no window in the room.

Wes motioned to a rickety looking chair across from the desk. “Please have a seat.”

Jan sat down. The chair squeaked and rolled to the side. She hung on to the edge of the desk to stabilize it.

“Sorry…that chair needs a little more oil. Would you care for some water? I don’t have my coffee maker set up yet. It’s in one of these boxes somewhere.”

“No thanks.”

Jan took a long look at the young lawyer as he sat down behind his desk, noting that his chair squeaked as well. Wesley Russell had short, curly black hair that lay flat against his head, and a pair of deep-set, wide-apart, dark brown eyes that looked straight at Jan with a pleasant intensity; eyes that were alive, curious, and attentive. When he smiled at her he showed two rows of extremely white teeth. What’s with the fluoridated smile, she thought. He must brush four or five times a day with that fluoride-heavy toothpaste. He has a pleasant enough face…probably a bit stuck-up, like most lawyers. I hope he won’t be carving up the language with that God-awful lawyer’s lingo, it’s a real turn-off. Why the hell can’t they speak English?

Wesley cleared his throat and then stood up and extended his hand. “Wes Russell…and you are?”

“Janet Lehman.” They shook hands, and the lawyer sat down.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“My lawyer has an office across the hall. He suggested I talk to you.”

“Oh yeah? That would be Dorell?”

“Yes.”

“Nice guy. But he’s a divorce lawyer. Why did he send you over here?”

“I don’t need a divorce anymore,” she shot back.

“Criminal case?”

“Could be.”

“You killed your x-husband?”

“No…I’m still working on that.”

Russell smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”

“Will this be a free confidential consultation?”

He flashed a fluoridated smile. “Yes, and I won’t tell anyone except my mother.” Jan did not look amused. He reassured her. “It’s an old family joke. Don’t worry, whatever you tell me is only between you and me.”

“Okay, but before we get started…is this your first case?”

“No, I had an office set up in my apartment for a while. I’ve been practicing for about a year.”

Jan smiled. “An entire year…that’s comforting.”

Russell heard the haughty tone in her voice. “I didn’t start out as a lawyer, ma’am. After I graduated college I went overseas for a couple years to join the Peace Corps. When I came home I decided to go to law school. But back to you – tell me what’s going on?”

Jan told him everything she knew. He paid close attention, asking her questions, taking notes, nodding as she revealed what happened, and when she finished he gave her his best advice.

“You have two choices,” he told her. “You can either forget about what happened…forget about the attempted rape…forget about the clarinet player…forget about the cop….or you can hire me.”

Jan smiled. “Give me a good reason why I should hire you?”

Russell grinned. “You like me.”

Cute, she thought, real cute, but don’t waste your charm on me, hot shot. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she replied.

Russell could tell she meant business. He leaned forward and laid it on the line. “Okay, I’ll give it to you straight,” he said. “It would be near impossible to bring charges for attempted rape. It would be your word against the cop’s. This guy they arrested…doubtful that a jury will take him seriously as a credible witness, considering he’s under arrest for assaulting the cop, and he’s been in jail before. He may go to jail again for helping you. If you want him freed, and the cop to be punished, that cop has to be discredited. I’ll have to check the city records, run a background check, talk to other cops, people who’ve known him. It’ll be a difficult case to prove. I may have to be creative. And it’ll cost you some bucks.”

She didn’t like what she heard but she thought it might be worth the price. “How many bucks?”

He thought it over for a few moments. She looked like money, he thought. Well dressed, no-nonsense, too damn proud.

“Ten thousand,” he said casually, “maybe more, maybe twenty…depending on how long it takes.”

Jan didn’t reply. She got up, slung her purse over her shoulder, and looked down at the lawyer. “I haven’t heard one thing from you that I can’t do for myself…and a hell of a lot cheaper too.”

Russell stood up and faced her across the desk. “You have a law degree?”

“I don’t need a law degree,” she shot back. “I have a P.H.D. and a teaching credential. Is that good enough for you?”

“Oh, you’re an academic. That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why your nose is pointed toward the ceiling.”

She scowled at him. “You better find yourself a PR manager. Rude doesn’t cut it…not with me.”