“That’s nice.”
“Sorry. I’m rambling. Third cup. Is there a link to Sturgiss?”
She glared at him, tapped her lips with an index finger, and said, “Don’t know.” He rolled his eyes. He had forgotten her warning that someone might be listening. She had real doubts about the FBI bugging her home, but she could not be certain. She assumed they were listening to her cell phone and covering every square inch at Malloy & Malloy.
As the sun lightened their breakfast nook, she spent some time online while Jonathan scrambled eggs and toasted wheat bread. Their daughter, Phoebe, was fifteen and would probably sleep until noon, as she did on Saturdays if no one bothered her.
The doorbell rang at 7:05 and Jonathan gave her a look. He went to the front door, opened it slightly, and had a quick chat with a reporter holding a small recorder. Jonathan explained to the man that he had about thirty seconds to get off his property before he called the police. He slammed the door and watched through the blinds.
Diantha’s favorite associate at the firm was Ben Bush, Rusty’s longtime litigation associate. She scrolled through her recent calls and saw four from Ben, all on Friday afternoon. She called him, woke him, and asked him to stop by her house as soon as he was up and moving around.
At 8:00 a.m., she sent an email to all twenty-two associates, seventeen paralegals, twenty-eight secretaries, and a dozen assorted staff, informing them that the office would be temporarily closed. All were encouraged to work from home and stay as current as possible. Those who had court appearances were expected to honor them. The press was to be strictly ignored. Firm business was more confidential than ever.
Ben Bush arrived at 9:00 and was greeted by Jonathan. “Keep your coat on,” he said as they entered the kitchen. Diantha was dressed in jeans and an overcoat and shook hands with her friend. She jerked her head to the right and said, “I’d like to show you something.” They stepped outside onto the patio and walked slowly across the backyard.
“You got my email?” she asked.
“I did. Thanks. Everybody is panicked.”
“With good reason. We’ll keep the place closed for a week, maybe longer. Maybe forever.”
“That’s comforting.”
“There is absolutely no reason to feel comfortable or optimistic. I’d like for you to go to the jail and see Kirk and Rusty. Tell them to stop calling me. Both tried last night from the jail. The FBI is listening everywhere—my phone, their phones, your phone, who knows how many, but those two clowns have got to stay off the phone. Got it?”
“Sure. The FBI is listening to me?”
“Probably yes. They got warrants a week ago and it’s safe to assume everything is bugged.”
“Shit! So that’s why we’re out here in the cold weather, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, okay. They’re getting out Monday, right?”
“That’s the plan. They cannot return to the office anytime soon, okay? Convince them of that. They gotta lay low. The press is everywhere.”
“I got calls last night.”
“Monday morning, I want you to visit, not call, the security company and get the passcodes and key cards changed. For the entire firm.”
“You’re locking out Rusty and Kirk?”
She turned and managed to offer a tight smile while glaring a hole through his eyes. “Listen to me, Ben. They’re not coming back, okay? The FBI has them on tape making the deal with Jack Grimlow to bribe Sturgiss. They’re dead guilty. They’re going to be convicted, and of course that means automatic disbarment. There goes the firm. Malloy & Malloy will no longer exist, and who would hire us anyway?”
As stunned as he was, Ben’s second or third reaction was to ask: “How do you know so much?” Then, “Who tipped the FBI?” But he filed his questions away for another day.
He tried to absorb it all and looked away. “So, we’re all out of work?”
“Afraid so. How many good cases does Rusty have right now? I counted eight.”
“How do you define ‘good’？”
“Potential settlement value of at least half a million.”
He closed his eyes and tried to calculate. “Close, but I’d say more like five or six.”
“Why don’t you take those cases and hit the door? I’ll authorize the firm to release the files to you.”
Ben smiled and nodded and wasn’t sure what to say.
She said, “You’ve been there for almost ten years, Ben. That’s a long time for a Malloy associate. With no chance of becoming a partner, the associates don’t hang around.”