Page 78 of Maddy's Justice

“Why, Anthony Carvelli, I do believe you’re embarrassed,” Connie said using a Southern Belle drawl. “Your face has turned a nice shade of crimson.”

“We’re only teasing you because we love you,” Maddy said, then kissed him on the cheek.

“Where’s Barry?” Marc asked Connie in hope of changing the subject.

“Court,” Connie said. “So, what now? Do we tell those fun boys at Stafford, Hughes what Paxton said?”

“And tell them what?” Marc asked. “That we heard the firm’s name mentioned in a federal investigation in Chicago. So what? Are they representing someone who is being looked at by the Feds? We don’t know the context of anything.”

“We know Paxton warned us not to get too cozy with these guys,” Connie said. “That doesn’t sound like a simple case of them acting as lawyers for someone.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Marc agreed. “Which brings up another problem. We received this information from a friend,” Marc continued, then looked at Carvelli and said, “A very close friend, who is an AUSA out of Chicago. If that gets out, Paxton could be fired. So, what do we do?”

“Keep our mouths shut. We don’t know what it’s about and it has nothing to do with our case…,” Carvelli started to say.

“Irrelevant,” Marc said.

“…so, we wait and see what happens. What do you tell them? You heard a rumor?”

“More than a rumor,” Marc said. “It’s likely an ethical violation if we don’t tell them. I should read those sometime. I haven’t since law school. Let’s move on.

“Ms. Rivers,” Marc said.

“I tried to track down one of the other three lawyers who left Stafford, Hughes and won’t talk to us. I have a line on the other two. I’m gonna take Sherry Bowen with me later and try to sit down with at least one of them today. Tony has something.”

“Paul tracked these lawyers and all three of them had a nice infusion of cash into their investment accounts shortly after leaving,” Carvelli said.

“How much and how did he find the accounts without social security numbers?” Connie asked.

“I don’t ask how he finds these things,” Carvelli said. “I figure the less I know, the better.”

Carvelli then looked at his notes and read from them. “Wendy Olson, six-fifty; Amber Klassen five-twenty-five and Naomi Beyers, one point two million. Naomi is a black woman. I don’t know if that’s relevant or not. She did get a bigger payoff than the others.”

“Maybe that’s relevant, maybe not,” Maddy said. “Probably more important is what happened to each of them. That sick little twist, Troy McGovern, date raped Paloma Vitale. She had a rape kit done right away. She scared the hell out of them. Told Cliff Spenser she was going to sue. The others, well, I’ll try to find out.”

Maddy looked at her watch and said, “I need to get going. I have to meet Sherry pretty soon. We’ve got a line on Naomi.”

As they were packing up to leave the conference room, Carvelli leaned over and whispered in Maddy’s ear. “Just so you know, she passed out from the passion, twice.”

Maddy covered her mouth to avoid bursting into laughter. She took a breath and said, “Now I have to call her. If it’s true, I want to know what you did.”

Sherry Bowen looked up at the tower clock across Fifth Street at the Old City Hall building. Sherry was a retired MPD detective who knew Carvelli and all the guys who picked up jobs from him. She also drove for Jake’s Limousine Service occasionally for extra cash. Sherry was a smart street cop destined for higher things in the department. Tired of the political games, she retired and never looked back. She was also African American.

“She’s running a little late,” Sherry told Maddy.

The two women were sitting in the shade on a granite bench in the plaza in front of the government center. It was almost noon on a warm, sunny day. The area around the government center was becoming crowded with office workers outside for their lunch break.

“She might not come today,” Maddy said.

“Could be. We’ll see,” Sherry replied.

“If I was a man, this would be a good place to sit to girl watch,” Maddy said.

“And there she is,” Sherry said looking at a woman walking toward them by herself across Third Avenue.

While they waited for her to find a place to sit, Maddy rhetorically said, “Does that law firm only hire good looking women?”

“She is pretty,” Sherry, an almost fifty-year-old mother of three said with a touch of envy.

---