Part 12 (1/2)
Yolanda studied the menu while an elderly waiter too short to ride the Cyclone at Six Flags fetched fresh drinks and filled our water gla.s.ses. I scanned the prices. The Dispatch's bean counters might have preferred paying for that b.l.o.w. .j.o.b.
”Claus,” she said without looking up, ”I'll start with the pan-fried calamari and hot cherry peppers. And for my entree, the sus.h.i.+-grade sesame seared tuna with gingered rice.”
”An excellent choice! And for the gentleman?”
”Ah ... I'm gonna skip the appetizer and have the signature cheeseburger with fries.”
Claus sniffed at me and went away.
”I've been reading about the layoffs at the Dispatch,” Yolanda said. ”I guess they must be clamping down on expense account lunches, too, huh?”
”That they are.”
”Oh, Claus?” She waved the little waiter back. ”Scratch the gentleman's order and bring him the smoked salmon appetizer and the sliced filet mignon with cipollini onions and wild mushrooms.”
”Certainly, madam,” he said. Then he smirked at me and turned away.
”Trying to get me fired?” I said.
”No worries. It's on the firm.”
”I can't let you do that.”
”Why not?”
”It's against Dispatch policy.”
”And why would that be?”
”Afraid it might make me beholden, I guess.” Her lips parted in a half smile, as if she knew what I wanted to be holdin'.
”So we won't tell them,” she said.
”Ah,” I said. ”You lawyers know all the tricks.”
”Besides,” she said, ”this way I can s.n.a.t.c.h a few morsels from your plate.” And when Claus returned with the appetizers, she pinched a sliver of my salmon with her fingers and popped it into that mouth.
”So I understand you are representing Vanessa Maniella,” I said.
”I'm not at liberty to confirm that.”
”She gave your name to the state police, Yolanda.”
”I can't confirm that, either.”
”Do you also represent her father?”
”Same answer.”
”He is dead, right?”
”I couldn't say.” She lifted another chunk of my smoked salmon and added, ”I warned you I wasn't going to be much help.”
”So far, you haven't been any.”
”Told ya.”
”Except, of course, for the inspiration I get from your presence.”
”There is always that,” she said. That half smile again.
”You know what puzzles me most?” I asked.
”Rap music? Black Republicans? How we lawyers can live with ourselves?”
”Well, yeah, but I was also wondering why Vanessa Maniella refuses to go to the morgue to ID the body.”
”Maybe you should ask her about that.”
”I would,” I said, ”but some very large men in her employ have advised against it.”
”I see.”
”I was going to tell them where to go,” I said, ”but I was afraid I might scare them to death.”
Claus was back now, refilling water gla.s.ses and whisking our empty plates away to the kitchen. Moments later he returned with the entrees, and we dug in.
”Mulligan?”
”Um?”
”Know what puzzles me most?”
”What would that be?”
”Why haven't you unb.u.t.toned that blazer? It's obviously a bit tight on you, and I can tell you're uncomfortable.”
”Not as uncomfortable as I'd be if I unb.u.t.toned it.”
”And why is that?”
”It's embarra.s.sing.”
”Tell me.”
”Well, it's like this. There was an old coffee cup on my desk. I thought it was empty, but...”
She was chuckling now, and I hadn't even reached the good part.
”When I stood up to come here,” I said, ”I knocked it over and, uh ... I didn't have time to go home to change.”