Patrick Maguire’s laugh boomed through the receiver. “Nice try, Miss Parker. The statute of limitations is up today. No one is going to sue anybody. If you’d like to settle for a lunch sometime we can talk about the fickle finger of fate.”
Jennifer tried to keep the anger out of her voice. “That’s a pretty rotten trick, friend.”
“It’s a pretty rotten world, friend,” Patrick Maguire chuckled.
“It’s not how you play the game, it’s whether you win or not, right?”
“You’re pretty good, honey, but I’ve been at it a lot longer than you. Tell your client I said better luck next time.”
And he rang off.
Jennifer sat there holding the telephone in her hand. She thought of Connie Garrett sitting at home, waiting for the news. Jennifer’s head began to pound and a film of perspiration popped out on her forehead. She reached in her desk drawer for an aspirin and looked at the clock on the wall It was four o’clock. They had until five o’clock to file with the Clerk of the Superior Court.
“How long would it take you to prepare the filing?” Jennifer asked Dan Martin, who stood there suffering with her.
He followed her glance. “At least three hours. Maybe four. There’s no way.”
There has to be a way, Jennifer thought.
Jennifer said, “Doesn’t Nationwide have branches all over the United States?”
“Yes.”
“It’s only one o’clock in San Francisco. We’ll file against them there and ask for a change of venue later.”
Dan Martin shook his head. “Jennifer, all the papers are here. If we got a firm in San Francisco and briefed them on what we need and they drew up new papers, there’s no way they could make the five o’clock deadline.”
Something in her refused to give up. “What time is it in Hawaii?”
“Eleven in the morning.”
Jennifer’s headache disappeared as if by magic, and she leapt from her chair in excitement. “That’s it, then! Find out if Nationwide does business there. They must have a factory, sales office, garage—anything. If they do, we file there.”
Dan Martin stared at her for a moment and then his face lit up. “Gotcha!” He was already hurrying toward the door.
Jennifer could still hear Patrick Maguire’s smug tone on the telephone. Tell your client, better luck next time. There would never be a next time for Connie Garrett. It had to be now.
Thirty minutes later Jennifer’s intercom buzzed and Dan Martin said excitedly, “Nationwide Motors manufactures their drive shafts on the island of Oahu.”
“We’ve got them! Get hold of a law firm there and have them file the papers immediately.”
“Did you have any special firm in mind?”
“No. Pick someone out of Martindale-Hubbell. Just make sure they serve the papers on the local attorney for National. Have them call us back the minute those papers are filed. I’ll be waiting here in the office.”
“Anything else I can do?”
“Pray.”
The call from Hawaii came at ten o’clock that evening. Jennifer grabbed the phone and a soft voice said, “Miss Jennifer Parker, please.”
“Speaking.”
“This is Miss Sung of the law firm of Gregg and Hoy in Oahu. We wanted to let you know that fifteen minutes ago we served the papers you requested on the attorney for Nationwide Motors Corporation.”
Jennifer exhaled slowly. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Cynthia sent in Joey La Guardia. Jennifer had never seen the man before. He had telephoned, asking her to represent him in an assault case. He was short, compactly built and wore an expensive suit that looked as though it had been carefully tailored for someone else. He had an enormous diamond ring on his little finger.
La Guardia smiled with yellowed teeth and said, “I come to you ‘cause I need some help. Anybody can make a mistake, right, Miss Parker? The cops picked me up ‘cause I did a little number on a coupla guys, but I thought they was out to get me, you know? The alley was dark and when I seen them comin’ at me—well, it’s a rough neighborhood down there. I jumped them before they could jump me.”
There was something about his manner that Jennifer found distasteful and false. He was trying too hard to be ingratiating.
He pulled out a large wad of money.
“Here. A grand down an’ another grand when we go to court. Okay?”
“My calendar is full for the next few months. I’ll be glad to recommend some other attorneys to you.”
His manner became insistent. “No. I don’t want nobody else. You’re the best.”
“For a simple assault charge you don’t need the best.”
“Hey, listen,” he said, “I’ll give you more money.” There was a desperation in his voice. “Two grand down and—”
Jennifer pressed the buzzer under her desk and Cynthia walked in. “Mr. La Guardia’s leaving, Cynthia.”
Joey La Guardia glared at Jennifer for a long moment, scooped up his money and thrust it back in his pocket. He walked out of the office without a word. Jennifer pressed the intercom button.
“Ken, could you please come in here a minute?”
It took Ken Bailey less than thirty minutes to get a complete report on Joey La Guardia.
“He’s got a rap sheet a mile long,” he told Jennifer. “He’s been in and out of the pen since he was sixteen.” He glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. “He’s out on bail. He was picked up last week for assault and battery. He beat up two old men who owed the Organization money.”