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deserve it.
    It wouldn’t take long.
    â€œSo,” said Pulaski, “I see you’re the latest flavor-of-the-month for Alonzo the Malingerer.”
    â€œI’m his new lawyer,” Jaywalker deadpanned. “If that’s what you mean.”
    â€œRight,” said Pulaski, checking his wristwatch in what struck Jaywalker as a crude parody of impatience. And, he wondered, who wore cuff links these days? Especially gold cuff links?
    â€œIf this is a bad time—”
    â€œNo, no,” said Pulaski. “It’s as good a time as any. What can I do for you?”
    â€œWell,” said Jaywalker, “I was hoping you might have copies of papers for me, discovery material. That sort of stuff.”
    â€œListen, Mr. Jaywalker—”
    â€œJay.”
    â€œMr. Jay—”
    â€œJust Jay.”
    â€œWhatever. The point is, you’re this scumbag’s fourth lawyer. I’m out of copies and have better things to do than run off more of them. You want copies, why don’t you go see your predecessors?”
    â€œI guess I can do that,” Jaywalker conceded. “I just thought that since it seems like you and I might have to try this case, we might start off on the right—”
    â€œWe’re not going to try this case,” said Pulaski. “Your guy is going to jerk you around for six months, just like he did with all the others. Then he’s going to say he can’t communicate with you and ask the judge to give him a new lawyer. We both know that.”
    â€œActually,” said Jaywalker, “he seems to be communicating with me pretty well.”
    â€œYou’ve met him?”
    Jaywalker nodded matter-of-factly. Pulaski countered with a look of surprise. Evidently he didn’t know any lawyers who went to the trouble of going to the jail and visiting their assigned clients even before their cases came on in court.
    â€œSo if you’ve met him,” said Pulaski, “maybe you can tell me what he’s waiting for before he takes his plea.”
    â€œAs I said earlier, I’m not at all sure he’s going to take a plea.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. Jaywalker was actually pretty sure Barnett would come around, sooner or later. But Pulaski’s certainty about that had been enough to prompt Jaywalker to suggest he was mistaken.
    â€œYou understand,” said Pulaski, “that eight to life is the best he can possibly get under the law, don’t you? And that’s on a plea, to an A-2. He goes to trial, the minimum starts at fifteen.”
    â€œWe both know that,” said Jaywalker. “But he doesn’t seem particularly interested.”
    â€œThen fuck him. He can go to trial and get twenty-five to life, for all I care. It’ll be my pleasure.” Followed by another look at the wristwatch, this one even more deliberate and more dismissive than the first.
    The meeting, for all intents and purposes, was over. Nine minutes after it had begun.
    Well, thought Jaywalker, at least he’d managed to get through it without throwing a punch at Pulaski, a temptation he’d succumbed to three years earlier. The target hadn’t been Pulaski that time. It had been an A.D.A. in Brooklyn, an ex-cop named Jimmy Spagnelli, who’d accused Jaywalker of being overzealous in the way he’d gone after an arson investigator on the witness stand.Jaywalker had ignored the insult, accepting it as a compliment in disguise. But Spagnelli hadn’t wanted to let it go at that, and a moment later he called Jaywalker a “low-life shyster.” Jaywalker’s Jewish half had reacted by taking offense at that, and his Irish half had reacted by clocking Spagnelli with a right hook. Unfortunately, it had landed a bit high on the side of Spagnelli’s head, clearly not a vital organ. For Jaywalker, the result had been a broken hand and a two-year suspension from practicing in Brooklyn.
    Kind of like