Page 62 of The Hamptons Lawyer

“But let’s bring it back to you,” I say.

“About time,” he says.

I close my eyes and give a quick shake to my head.

“Tell me exactly what you told whoever this intermediary was,” I say.

“Just that you plan to call Sonny as a witness, if you can find a way to get a subpoena handed to him.”

“And what was the response?”

“That it can’t happen,” he says. “That because you work for me, I can’tallowit to happen.”

“And just when exactly did you plan to pass this information along to me?”

“I was told that I didn’t need to,” he says. “That someone else would deliver the message.”

A couple of pretty young women walk by. The right age to be right in what Rob Jacobson considers to be his wheelhouse. Tight bodies, swinging everything they have just enough as they pass us by. Both of them giving Rob the eye. Neither one of them seeming to have a care in the world.

As if they’re both going to live forever.

As they walk away, I watch them as wistfully as my client does.

Then I take out my phone and show him the picture of Beth Lassiter that Jimmy forwarded to me.

Jacobson doesn’t act shocked, or surprised, or even mildly upset.

“She owed Sonny a lot of money,” he says.

“So he has this done?”

“Sonny considers these object lessons.”

He shakes his head.

“Trust me on this, Jane,” he says. “You have to find another way to defend me and leave Sonny out of it.”

“And you trustmeon this,” I say. “There is no other way.”

“Find one.”

“Why, so he won’t have us both killed before this trial ever gets near a jury?” I ask him.

We sit in silence for what feels like a minute.

“Only you,” he says finally. “For the time being, Sonny Blum has apparently made the determination that I’m still worth more to him alive than dead.” He pauses and then says, “But that could change. Things are transactional with Sonny, and always have been, with my father and now me.”

“So I might not be worth more to him alive,” I say.

“Pretty much.”

Rob Jacobson turns to me now on the bench, his faceserious, The Smirk wiped completely away, and gently takes both my hands in his.

“You need to understand something, Jane,” he says. “McGoey’s not just here to be second chair. He’s here to be a backup plan.”

“A backup plan?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”