my car.
What did you do about a mailing address?
I had my mail sent to the parole office. They' re supposed to keep it for me. But I don't get all of my mail. I think they take it.
The police report says that you were supposed to register every year within ten days of your birthday and you didn't do that this year. A detective tried to find you at the address you listed as your home on your last form and concluded that it was a false home address.
Suddenly Cohen looked spent and defeated. I don't want to go back there, he said.
To prison?
He nodded. I am tormented. His hands gripped and tore at his frenetic, Brillo locks. It's hell on Earth. Then he grew quiet, and Doug thought he heard his client say, But it's what I deserve.
Doug suddenly saw through the facade. Jacob Cohen was definitely crazy, but he was also terrified and lost in a world that overwhelmed him. Doug's heart went out to his new client.
I'm going to work hard for you. Believe me. I am on your side and I will try to help you.
He wasn't certain that Cohen had heard him, because Cohen's head was down, he was staring at the floor, and he was muttering so quietly that Doug could not make out what his client was saying.
Karen was waiting in a booth when Doug walked into South Park. She was a small woman with a narrow waist, large breasts, and straight auburn hair. She wore steel-rimmed glasses because she believed they made her look more serious, and she always dressed for success. Tonight, she was wearing a severe navy blue pantsuit. Doug tried a smile, and his anxiety increased when his wife didn't return it.
Glad you could make it, Karen said, sounding like an investment banker greeting a potential client.
You look good, Doug said as he slid into the booth. He figured that a compliment might lighten the heavy atmosphere. And the truth was Karen did look good. She had always looked good, and she looked her best naked, but Doug didn't want to go there, because it would be a sharp and painful reminder of what he'd been missing since their marriage had turned sour.
Thank you, Karen answered with enough formality to let Doug know that he wasn't going to like what she was going to tell him. Do you feel like a cocktail? I' ve ordered already.
Doug was shocked that Karen was offering him alcohol knowing the effect it had on him, but he decided that he would probably be able to handle what he was about to hear much better if he wasn't completely sober.
Why not? I' ve had a rough day. I can use a stiff drink.
Karen signaled the waiter, and Doug placed his order.
What happened today? Karen asked when the waiter left. Doug didn't think that Karen was the least bit interested in his day. He thought that she wanted him to talk so she could build up the courage to tell him what she wanted to say.
I had to go to the jail to interview a new client, a court appointment. He's a doozy.
Over their cocktails, Doug told Karen about his strange encounter with Jacob Cohen. As the alcohol kicked in, Doug began to feel warm, light-headed, and relaxed.
Are you going to use an insanity defense? Karen asked.
The insanity defense is popular on TV but it's rarely used in real life. If a defendant is really crazy it's so obvious most of the time that a prosecutor can see it too and the case is usually resolved by a plea involving psychiatric care.
Do you think Cohen is faking?
No, I think Cohen's the real deal, a genuine nutcase. If my shrink agrees I'll show his report to the DA.
So far, Karen had maneuvered Doug into doing all of the talking. He decided that it was time for her to tell him why she'd asked him to dinner.
So, what's up with you? Doug asked.
The question seemed to startle Karen.
You did ask me to meet you here, Doug said. I assume you have something to tell me.
I do. Karen paused. I got a promotion. They told me, this morning.
That's terrific, Doug said, faking his enthusiasm and forcing a big smile. The smile faded when he saw the look on Karen's