Sons of Fortune

“Why not let the voters decide?” said Su Ling quietly, “and if they give you overwhelming support, stay in there fighting, because that will also help convince a jury that you’re innocent.”

“I agree,” said Tom. “And what’s the alternative—Barbara Hunter? Let’s at least spare the electorate that.”

“And how do you feel, Jimmy? After all, you’re my legal advisor.”

“On this subject I can’t offer an impartial view,” Jimmy admitted. “As you well know, the Democratic candidate is my closest friend, but were I advising him in the same circumstances, and I knew he was innocent, I would say stick in there and fight the bastards.”

“Well, I suppose it’s just possible that the public will elect a dead man; then heaven knows what will happen.”

“His name will remain on the ballot,” said Tom, “and if he goes on to win the election, the party can invite anyone they choose to represent him.”

“Are you serious?” said Nat.

“Couldn’t be more serious. Quite often they select the candidate’s wife, and my bet is that Rebecca Elliot would happily take his place.”

“And if you’re convicted,” said Jimmy, “she could sure count on the sympathy vote just before an election.”

“More important,” said Nat, “have you come up with a defense counsel to represent me?”

“Four,” responded Jimmy, removing a thick file from his briefcase. He turned the cover. “Two from New York, both recommended by Logan Fitzgerald, one from Chicago who worked on Watergate, and the fourth from Dallas. He’s only lost one case in the last ten years, and that was when his client had committed the murder on video. I intend to call all four later today to find out if any of them is free. This is going to be such a high-profile case, my bet is that they will all make themselves available.”

“Isn’t there anyone from Connecticut worthy of the shortlist?” asked Tom. “It would send out a far better message to the jury.”

“I agree,” said Jimmy, “but the only man who is of the same caliber as those four simply isn’t available.”

“And who’s that?” asked Nat.

“The Democratic candidate for governor.”

Nat smiled for the first time. “Then he’s my first choice.”

“But he’s in the middle of an election campaign.”

“Just in case you haven’t noticed, so is the accused,” said Nat, “and let’s face it, the election isn’t for another nine months. If I turn out to be his opponent, at least he’ll know where I am the whole time.”

“But…” repeated Jimmy.

“You tell Mr. Fletcher Davenport that if I become the Republican candidate, he’s my first choice, and don’t approach anyone else until he’s turned me down, because if everything I’ve heard about that man is true, I feel confident he’ll want to represent me.”

“If those are your instructions, Mr. Cartwright.”

“Those are my instructions, counselor.”

By the time the polls had closed at eight P.M. Nat had fallen asleep in the car as Tom drove him home. His chief of staff made no attempt to disturb him. The next thing Nat remembered was waking to find Su Ling lying on the bed beside him, and his first thoughts were of Luke. Su Ling stared at him and gripped his hand. “No,” she whispered.

“What do you mean, no?” asked Nat.

“I can see it in your eyes, my darling, you wonder if I would prefer you to withdraw, so that we can mourn Luke properly, and the answer is no.”

“But we’ll have the funeral, and then the preparations for the trial, not to mention the trial itself.”

“Not to mention the endless hours in between, when you’ll be brooding and unbearable to live with, so the answer is still no.”

“But it’s going to be almost impossible to expect a jury not to accept the word of a grieving widow who also claims to have been an eyewitness to her husband’s murder.”

“Of course she was an eyewitness,” said Su Ling. “She did it.”

The phone on Su Ling’s bedside table began to ring. She picked it up and listened attentively before writing two figures down on the pad by the phone. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll let him know.”