Compelling Evidence Read Online Free PDF Page B

parts, each vir%' Mil I checklist of things to be done. It is, I have conit‐1 unfathomable. The probate lawyers have found the magic in that kills competition. They have constructed processes and 1 @ I 1@'111‐m terminology that can be translated only by the high priests their own cloistered sect. I read Dee's secretarial handbook, like the computer I've bought for her, she has never used. hopes that maybe this would be my Rosetta stone, the key the mysteries of probate. It was not. The probate secretaries, it ,‐1L
    have their own guild. As might be expected, Dee is without inion card.
    what had begun with a simple one‐page petition a year ago now a morass to inspire Dickens's most Draconian tale of ii;i" and judges, of a court system constipated by endless and fam‐ sl(;@ forms. Probate reform, it seems, has gone the way tax simplification. I am beaten. Defeated. I concede. I am ready to consult, and necessary to take a. ride, to pay the freight on the Feinberg !u4s@ to the la‐la land of the surrogate courts. I stare at the file 1, the announcement in Harry's hands. The ultimate cop‐outill hire another lawyer to service my client. "How'd it go last night?" he asks. ght as a choirboy's bum. That was Harry last night after meeting with Ben. With him in his snockered condition, I It waste my tithe giving him the details. Now he's catching on dirt. "Good.
    Friendly. It was," I say, "cordial."

    "Which was itt' he says. "Friendly or cordial? With the one it ,Z, means he isn't gonna kill ya. The other means you may to go back for more nooky." ignore him. "I'm surprised," he says. Harry talks about fire and dragons. fact that I was porkin' another man's wife and Ben didn't i give me a lecture on alienation of affections. "The man's ,civilized,"
    he says. "Times have changed since my day." ni surprised you can remember back that far.", looks at me from the comer of his eye. back, are you?" he asks. Pf4 00 gi say sarcastically. "Ben and I discussed the matter, but decided it wouldn't be a good idea‐for me to go back for Z
    Mo @," asshole." There's irritation in his tone. "Are you going' the firm?"

    CHAPTER 3.

    I am early for my meeting with Ben. The Broiler is more subdued P0, Wong's. The decor is Early Naugahyde, but it is quiet, a r,ro 7su place for talking, to discuss Sharon's trust and Ben's future. r belly to the bar and order a drink. "Paul‐Paul Madriani." My only recognition of this voice is F IT,7 it is someone unpleasant. Someone I would rather not be rj4s with, not here, not now. I turn from the bar just in time to receive a back‐slapping Irtsl on my shoulder. Eli Walker is dean of the outcast press. usually three sheets to the wind, in his late sixties, M:i4, regularly traverses that nether‐land between what he calls [57 "N.
    Nio.,.and political flackery for paying clients. "Haven't seen ya in here in a while." He licks his lips as if he's W stepped from the parched sands of the Sahara. "Haven't been around," I say. The bartender returns with my
    "Mons '@ and I swallow a quick shot. I offer nothing that Walker can !PMT onto, turn into conversation. He's one of those clinging souls Mo(t, as a result of some fleeting commercial contact fancy themyour friends. In my case I had the misfortune of writing a D; letter to unravel a title problem on his house, a favor I did @Pthe request of one of the partners while I was with the firm. He's not moving on. Seconds pass in light banter, Eli doing 11571@ of the talking, the two of us weaving in. the light trafw.' around the bar.
    Walker's eyeing me like a thirsty dog. In assignments and clients, he's drooling for a drink. His L17 Ml@ is still on my shoulder, tugging on it like a ship trying 4 berth
    "How's the solo practice going't' An
    odoriferous blast hol is emitted with each spoken word. In the lorr of a7r. r" it has been said of Eli Walker that any cremation after i 7‐'
    result in the ultimate perpetual flame. "Fine, keeps me busy."

    I begin to turn back