The Burning Man Read Online Free PDF Page B

framed law degree to the right of Geary's OSU diploma.
    "You went to Harvard?" Peter asked, trying not to sound incredulous.
    "Class of '59. Does that surprise you?"
    "Well ... Uh, no," Peter said, flushing because Geary had read him so easily.
    "It should. A Harvard man stuck out here in the boonies. But, then, you're stuck here with me, aren't you?"
    This time, Peter flushed from anger. Geary found the Judd file and slumped onto a slat-back chair behind the desk.
    "Your father told me everything when he asked me to hire you. To be honest, I was against it. Not because I was unsympathetic to Dick's attempts to save your soul.
    I just didn't want to put my practice at risk while your father was fighting for your salvation."
    "If you didn't want me here," Peter asked resentfully, "why did you agree to hire me?"
    Geary folded his hands behind his head, leaned back and studied Peter without rancor.
    "I owe your father a great debt. Supervising your stay in purgatory will take a little off the top. But I made it clear to Dick that I'll drop you like a hot coal if you fuck up. I have a sense of honor, but not a shred of sentimentality. Do we understand each other?"
    Peter nodded.
    "Good," Geary said. "Now, let me tell you the facts of life in Whitaker. There are fifteen lawyers in private practice in this county. Five of them work at Sissler, Macafee and Petersen. They handle every insurance defense case in Whitaker and the five surrounding counties. Those boys make the big bucks. The other ten attorneys, including yours truly, do not.-We fight over the scraps. There's the occasional personal injury case.
    One good old boy runs his four-by-four into some other good old boy's four-by-four. I write wills, I handle divorces. If it walks through the door and it doesn't take a lot of expertise, I'm your man, "Then, there's crime. Crime does pay, only not for the criminals. You're probably wondering how I can afford these palatial digs. Well, I'll let you in on the secret.
    About fifteen years ago, the state decided to contract out indigent defense and I was firstest with the mostest. I've had the contract for Whitaker, Blaine and Cayuse counties, ever since. It pays my overhead and makes me a small profit. It's easy money and I aim to keep it. That's where you come in. You're gonna become the Perry Mason of Whitaker County."
    Peter was gripped by deep depression. He had not gone to law school to muck around in the swamp called criminal law. Real lawyers sued for millions or handled massive business deals. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the most prestigious type of legal practice, criminal law was a minus seventy-two.
    "I hope my father didn't misrepresent my qualifications, Mr. Geary," Peter said hesitantly. "I've never handled a criminal case."
    "Peter, we're not talking crime-of-the-century. We're talking shoplifts at JC-PENNEY, driving while stupid.
    Most of these cases will plead out and the rest could be handled by Forrest Gump. Your dad told me about some of the cases you've tried on your own and some of the ones you've second-chaired. I'd say that you're probably one of the most experienced attorneys in town, right now. So, don't sweat the small stuff. -Now, here's my plan," Geary said, fishing through his desk until he found a cigarette. "Your office is next door." A plume of smoke blew across the desk and Peter held his breath to avoid breathing in the foul, cancerous discharge. "The walls are paper-thin, so we don't need an intercom. Settle in. Read through the twenty case files on your desk. Keep a copy of the Criminal Code at your right hand, a copy of the Constitutions of the United States and the state of Oregon at your left, and a copy of the Oregon State Bar Criminal Law Handbook within easy reach. If you have any questions, try not to bother me with them. I'm very busy."
    Peter looked stunned. Geary grinned maliciously.
    "Welcome to the real world, son. And have a nice day. Now, scat. I have to go to the ninth