Page 11 of Pro Bono

McHargue returned his attention to Warren. “It looks like three shots hit your trunk. Is that what you heard?”

“I think I heard a fourth, but I was accelerating to get out of there, and taking a turn. If there was a fourth shot it must have missed.”

“Do you happen to own any firearms?”

Warren said, “No. It’s not that I object to them, but I work long days, and I own my firm, so I don’t have a lot of time to do things like go to a firing range. A gun would just be another thing I spent money on that I never used, like my skis and scuba gear, and I’d have to lock it up.”

“It doesn’t matter, really. But I was thinking, if you wanted to shoot a driver who was speeding away from you, then you’d want to aim for a window. This guy aimed too low. There’s not one shot through the back window.”

“Maybe he was just trying to scare me off so I couldn’t get a good picture. I got a few, but the officer last night said the car was stolen.”

“Yes,” McHargue said. “Do you have anything going on in your firm or your life right now that might explain any of this?”

Warren shrugged. “I’ve been wondering about that. Nothing in my personal life. No married women or anything.”

“How about legal cases?”

“I don’t think so. I had a meeting with the other attorney in a case yesterday afternoon, and he agreed to settle for what we had demandedinstead of fighting it in court. I’m sure he wasn’t happy, but this is what civil lawyers do. Sometimes a client is in the wrong and the job is just to make sure the settlement he pays is fair. The lawyer gets paid for his work, and his client will pay for the damages, and tomorrow morning the alarm clock goes off and we go on to the next client’s problem.”

“Any of those opposing clients who might want to scare you off?”

“Not that I know of. There is something odd. Yesterday afternoon, a new client came to me with a collection of financial statements because she suspects some of her money might have been diverted. After she left, I spent a few hours reading through the monthly reports, and I think she’s probably right. I left the office late, and on the way home I stopped to pick up a take-home dinner at Bernardine, planning to do some more work on her case. I had all my notes in my briefcase. When the parking attendant brought my car, that was when all the following and chasing and the attack happened.”

“About your briefcase that was stolen, anything else in it besides the notes?”

“Nothing. I don’t usually carry anything home with me except things that I need to work on that night.”

McHargue was nodding. At first he said nothing, and then, “How long have you been in practice?”

“Seven years.”

“Has anything like this happened before?”

“No.”

“If anything about that case—or anything else—starts to look like it might be the cause of what happened—give me a call.”

“Sure will,” Warren said.

“For the moment we’ll be looking at other incidents to see if there’s been anything similar lately that we can connect with it, or see if the lab turns anything up.”

McHargue got into his unmarked car and drove off. Warren watched him for a few seconds. He had no hope that the two men would be found. He had already reconciled himself to the loss of his briefcase and notes. It was time to chase down Vesper Ellis so he could get to work on her problem.

6

Warren walked into the office and looked at Martha, who was at the reception desk. Alan was beside her desk in his Sphinx position. She said, “Mrs. Ellis hasn’t called. I would have let you know.”

“I figured you would, but I had to check.”

“Her monthly portfolio summaries are all scanned, so they’re available, and the originals are back in the safe.”

“Thanks, Martha.”

He called Mrs. Ellis’s number again. She didn’t answer, but the phone invited him to leave a message. He changed his tone slightly. “This is Charles Warren. Please call me, either at my office number, which is—” and he recited the number, and then added, “or my cell phone,” and then recited that number too. “If you use the cell number you can reach me at any time of the day or night. It’s very important that you do. This is not a matter that will wait. It’s urgent that I speak with you about your case.”

He hung up, turned to his computer, and typed in Tiffany Greene’s name. In a second, he was looking at the file for her divorce. He found her cell phone number and dialed it. He listened to a few rings and got another recorded speech and a chance to leave a message. He said, “Hi,Tiffany. I wanted to thank you for referring Vesper Ellis to me. I also wondered if you have another number for her, or know anything about where I might be able to reach her. I’ve tried both the numbers she gave to my assistant, Martha, with no luck.” Then he gave his office phone number, which she certainly had already, and his cell number, and hung up.

He turned to his computer and began scrolling through the column of emails in case he had missed one from Vesper Ellis. He hadn’t gotten very far before the phone on his desk rang. He snatched up the receiver and said, “Yes?”

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