Mob Lawyer by Dave Daren (Mob Lawyer #1)
English | 2020 | Mystery & Thriller | ePUB | 2.9 MB
A dilemma is defined as two bad choices. In my case it was either continue to work at my soul-crushing corporate law job for the next forty years, or to become the mafia don’s personal attorney. But I made my decision, and now I plan to defend him from figurative bullets in the courtroom, and literal ones outside of it. Everybody deserves good counsel, even made men. Justice for all.
I did the ‘meh’ motion with my palm. I’d handled a couple of landlord-tenant cases the year before, and while they were good practice for court appearances, they were pretty routine.
“There’s also an arrest for assaulting a police officer,” Bridgit added as she handed me a folder. “The accused was pulled over for a traffic violation. The policeman was writing the ticket when he realized that the car partially blocked the exit from a parking garage. So he told the driver to back up, which the driver did, but he ran over the policeman’s foot.”
“On purpose?” I asked.
“You’d have to ask him,” she replied. “He’s got his first appearance tomorrow.”
“I’ll take it,” I said as I read through the few pages that Legal Aid had sent over. “In fact, I should probably go visit him now, just to get his side of the story.”
“So who are you trying to avoid?” Bridgit asked with a smile.
“Noble was in the office when I left,” I admitted. “And Burkowski’s been after me about my billable hours.”
“Ooooh, I heard that they’re expecting that second request to be huge,” Bridgit confided. “They’re already planning on at least two hundred temps to do the document review.”
“Wow,” I said. “Definitely sounds like I need to make a trip to Rikers then. Not sure I’m up for a two hundred temp case.”
“I’ll let Legal Aid know you’ve taken the case,” Bridgit replied. “They’ll let Rikers know to expect you.”
“Hope they don’t take too long this time,” I noted. “Last time, I had to hang around while they got confirmation.”
“It’s your own fault for rushing right over there,” she pointed out.
“Can I help it if I want to make sure my client’s are properly represented?” I replied.
Bridgit chuckled as I stood up with the folder and snuck back into the hallway. I really wanted to leave the building right at that moment, but I needed my briefcase before I could make the trip to New York City’s main jail complex. I managed to do a lap around the floor, then walk slowly up the stairs. I stopped for another cup of sludge since I’d left my last one on Bridgit’s desk. I drank about half of the muddy substance, then tossed the cup and cleaned up around the pot before slowly walking back to my office.
The door was open, which was a good sign, and I didn’t hear anyone talking, which was an even better sign. I stuck my head around the door and saw that the place was empty except for a half-eaten doughnut on Mark’s desk. I slipped into my chair, did a quick check of my email now that the computer had finally booted up, fired off two quick responses, then called the service desk to request a round trip car to Rikers Island and back.