Close to the Bone Read Online Free PDF

He’s got this attitude like it’s a big nuisance, him being put on trial, and who the hell did that woman think she was, out there with her baby getting in the way, while he was exercising his God-given right as an American citizen to get shitfaced and barrel around in his car. I mean, yeah, I’ve gotta try to shift the blame. That’s basic strategy. But I’d feel a lot better if the guy showed a little remorse. Bottom line, he killed a woman.”
    “Sorry I got you involved,” I said. “I just figured you were the best man for the job.”
    He waved his hand dismissively. “I probably am,” he said. “Anyway, it’s not the old Senator, and it’s not Glen, and it’s not really even this case, and I don’t know why I’m crying on your shoulder.” He let out a deep breath and looked up at me. “Except I guess I don’t feel like crying on Olivia’s shoulder anymore.”
    “Uh-oh.”
    “Nah, it’s not what you’re thinking. She’s okay. It’s just me. Listen. I remember you telling me that once upon a time you wanted to be a civil liberties lawyer.”
    I smiled. “That was a long time ago. Law school and youthful idealism. A deadly combination.”
    He nodded. “Sure. And now you’ve got a practice that’s the envy of every lawyer in the city.”
    “I haven’t had a civil liberties case in my entire career, Paul. It’s always been a regret. And somehow I doubt that you envy my practice.”
    “In lots of ways I do,” he said. “I mean, you’ve got to coddle people like Roger Falconer, and that’s no fun. But look at what I do.”
    “You perform miracles, Paul. That Benton case—”
    “Yeah, exactly. I performed a miracle, and now that goddamn sodomist is walking the streets.”
    “Sodomist? With children? Jesus.” I shook my head. “I knew about the pornographic videotapes. But I never heard anything about sodomy.”
    “It never came out in the trial.” Paul nodded. “I managed to get the whole sodomy thing suppressed. You know. Tainted evidence, shoddy investigation, impeachable witnesses. Typical.” He shrugged. “See what I mean? That’s what I do. I put child sodomists back on the streets.”
    I sipped my beer and gazed at him. “I get it,” I said. “You’re afraid you’re going to win this case and Glen Falconer will be free to get drunk and smash his car into somebody else.”
    “Sure. Absolutely. And he will, too. But that ain’t exactly it, either.” He leaned across the table. “I loved prosecuting, Brady. Prosecuting was straightforward and unambiguous, you know? Every single son of a bitch I went after had done something bad. My job was to prove it, to make the case, to convince the jury. When I succeeded, I knew I had made justice happen.”
    “And you practically always succeeded,” I said. “Listen, old buddy. You’re doing justice now, too, and you know it.”
    “Sure,” he growled. “The right to counsel, the presumption of innocence, all that shit. But you know and I know that just because the law presumes somebody’s innocent doesn’t make him innocent. It’s all just a fucking game, Brady. You go to trial to win the game, not to do justice. You play the media, you pick your best jury, you work on the judge. You wait for the prosecution to fuck up, or, even better, you sucker ’em into fucking up, and then you cram it down their throats. That’s how it goes. If they don’t fuck up, I lose. But they practically always fuck up somewhere along the line. Listen, how d’you think I felt when that foreman looked at Eddie Vaccaro standing there beside me and said, ‘The jury cannot agree on a verdict,’ huh?”
    “Vaccaro,” I said. “The guy who was just here?”
    “Yeah, him.”
    “Jesus,” I said. “I didn’t make the connection. He’s a hit man. I don’t think I ever met a hit man before.”
    “You’re not missing anything, Brady.” Paul lifted his beer glass halfway to his mouth, then put it down. “Eddie Vaccaro shoots people for