Page 23 of Pro Bono

“The person most qualified to determine that is me,” Warren said. “Not only am I trained in the law, but I’ll be the one doing all the work, and the money is my mother’s.” He paused. “But I concede that the money would never have been found without your past dishonest efforts, and I’ll be mindful of that. I give my word that you will receive part of the money. We’ll call it a finder’s fee or consulting fee or something like that. We’ll report it to the IRS and you’ll pay taxes on it. In fact, I’ll have my firm do your taxes and file them. As of this afternoon you will notdo anything that’s against the law. You’ll clean this house of all prints, remove the plywood, repair any other damage, and leave the property the way you found it. I advise you to do it fast, so the owner doesn’t show up with the police.”

“The owner is a bank,” Foltz said. “We could probably stay here for years before they ever send anybody to look at it. When prices hit the right level, they sell them in bunches to other companies.”

“Do it anyway,” Warren said. “I noticed you did a great job of cleaning Vesper Ellis’s house. The police didn’t find any prints or even DNA. This time don’t forget any phones.”

“All right,” Stamford said.

“One more thing,” Warren said. “Foltz was the woman the LA criminal court building is named after. Stamford is the nice town in Connecticut you drive through right after you leave New York. What are your real names?”

“Alvin Copes,” said the former Agent Stamford.

“Andrew Minkeagan,” said the former Agent Foltz.

“Don’t call me. Write down a phone number you never used to call me and I’ll call you from a new, clean phone and give you that number. Clear?”

“Clear.”

“Then let’s go set Mrs. Ellis free.”

12

Warren called out, “Mrs. Ellis? It’s Charlie Warren again.”

“Come in.”

Warren said, “Get your stuff. I’m taking you home.”

She immediately got her purse, threw into it whatever she had taken out during the past two days, and followed him across the living room and into the kitchen, where he reloaded his pockets with his belongings. He called an Uber and said, “Good timing. He’ll be here in a minute. Come on.”

They could see the car by the time they had walked down the driveway. They got in and the female driver said, “Fifty-six nine eight nine Wilshire?”

“That’s right,” he said.

The driver took them over Laurel Canyon to Crescent Heights to Wilshire and then to Warren’s office, where they got into his rented car and drove out of the underground garage. He said, “I’m taking you to your house. We can talk on the way.”

“What happened?” Vesper Ellis said. “How did you get them to let us out? Are the police coming?”

“It turns out this isn’t what I was afraid it was,” he said.

“What is it?” she said.

“You were not their intended victim. They only took you in case they needed leverage to negotiate with me.”

“Are you saying they’re not criminals?”

“No, they’re criminals, all right. They served long sentences in a high-security prison. They were watching my office the day when you came to see me. When they saw you, they thought they’d found something to hold over me. You were attractive, well-dressed, and about my age, so they figured you might even be more than a client.”

“Isn’t that what kidnappers do? They abduct somebody that someone else will pay a ransom for?”

“This time there were no ransom demands, no death threats, or any of the things that people have nightmares about. It was a bad decision made by people who aren’t very sophisticated.”

“You sound like you’re their lawyer.”

“I’m your lawyer. I’ve just made an agreement with them that includes your immediate release and a permanent prohibition on any future contact with you.”

“What did you get in return?”

“You, for starters. Also, they actually did have a business proposal for me. It would not begin until after your case is completed.”

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