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Emergency Case

By Richard L. Mabry, MD

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Jack Harbaugh sat at his mahogany desk scribbling notes on a yellow pad, several law books open beside him. This was a particularly ticklish tax case, and he’d promised his CPA friend to have an interpretation soon. He was at a critical point when his secretary’s voice over the intercom interrupted him.
“Mr. Alba is here.”
Mr. Alba? Then Jack remembered. This was the case he didn’t want to take. But he’d allowed himself to be pressured.
Jack redid the top button of his dress shirt and cinched his tie. “Send him in,” Jack said.
The man who entered his office was, at first glance, the type of individual that Jack and his partners cultivated as clients. His dark hair appeared freshly cut and styled, his clean-shaven jaw bore not a trace of five o’clock shadow, his suit draped perfectly to conceal a stocky frame, and his white shirt fairly gleamed. But then Jack reached Alba’s eyes, and that gave him all the judgment he needed. He had seen eyes like that only once before—in a criminal who was amoral to the point of having no concern for others, including their life.
Jack stood but didn’t extend his hand. Instead, he gestured toward one of the two client chairs across from his desk. Alba didn’t seem upset by Jack’s failure to shake hands. He nodded, seated himself, crossed his legs, and looked directly at the attorney. “What do you want to know about the case?”
“First, let’s get some things settled.” Jack resumed his chair and opened the center drawer of his desk. He pulled out a contract of representation and shoved it toward Alba. “Read this. Then, if you want me to represent you, sign it.”
Alba scribbled his signature without reading the document. Then he pulled a fat envelope from his shirt pocket and put it atop the contract. “Here’s the fee…in cash, just as you were promised.” He held up his hand. “And I won’t need a receipt.”
“Whether you want one or not, I’m going to note that I’ve been paid, and report this as income.” Jack put the envelope, still unopened, into his drawer along with the signed contract. “Now tell me about the traffic stop and the ticket that came afterward.”
The story was pretty much what Jack had already heard. Alba was pulled over because he fit the description of a man the police were looking for. There was no other reason for the stop, although that point was arguable. What was clear to Jack, however, was there was no legal justification for the search of Alba’s car, a search that turned up a small amount of marijuana in the glove compartment.
When Jack had enough details, he nodded. “We should be able to get you off. Maybe a fine, but I doubt even that.” His mind went back to what he’d been told previously. Supposedly, this was a “slam-dunk.” He wondered if that was because the fix was already in with the judge. Whether it was or not, he’d do his best. That was what he was being paid handsomely for.
“You really need to get this case dismissed,” Alba said.
“I’m pretty sure we can do that,” Jack responded. “Trust me.”
“I mean, I need to be free, so I can complete the gun-buy scheduled for a few days after my court date.”
“I’m not certain what you mean, but maybe you shouldn’t tell me anymore.”
But Alba kept going. He told Jack he was a key figure in an illegal transfer of weapons that was to take place in the early morning hours, behind a particular gun store in about a week. The clandestine event would involve pistols, long guns, and ammunition, all of which would bring at least a hundred thousand dollars when it was resold. Probably more, Alba said.
Jack held up both hands, palm outward. “Stop! I can’t hear this.”
Alba was genuinely puzzled. “Why not? You’re my attorney, aren’t you? Isn’t all this privileged information?”
“No. It’s true that I’m your attorney, but I’m also an officer of the court. If you tell me about a crime that’s going to be committed, I’m obliged to report it. Privilege doesn’t cover that.”
“Well, whether that contract I signed protects me or not, you certainly can’t report this to the authorities. If anything happens to stop this deal, my boss will see to it that the person who leaked the information never talks again.” He looked at Jack with those dead eyes. “That means either you or me…or both.”
* * *
Dr. Kelly Harbaugh had just sat down at her desk and picked up the papers there when the senior partner of her group, Dr. Cathy Sewell tapped on the door frame. “Got a second?”
“Sure.” Kelly gestured toward the chair across the desk from her “I was going to talk with you as soon as you had a break.”
Cathy looked directly at her friend and colleague. “Is everything okay?”
Kelly knew what Cathy meant. She took a deep breath. “You mean the way I’ve been acting.”
Cathy nodded.
“Jack and I have always had a good marriage, but recently he’s seemed a bit distant. I guess that’s normal, especially between a doctor and an attorney.” Kelly looked at her colleague. “You and Will went through that, didn’t you?”
“Did we have problems?” Cathy smiled. “Sure, but it didn’t have anything to do with our professions. Despite what you may read or see, no marriage of any kind is a constant rendition of Hearts and Flowers. Will and I have our differences, just like any other couple. Since he was practicing law, there were times he was so preoccupied with a case that he seemed to pay no attention to me at all. And I understood. I’ll bet there were times when the shoe was on the other foot. But it was temporary, and it was soon over.” She leaned forward toward her colleague. “Is something going on with you and Jack right now?”
Kelly nodded. “The past week or more he’s been so…preoccupied, I guess you’d say. Sometimes it’s as though his mind is somewhere else. We used to talk about everything, but now it’s like he’s pulled into his shell. I can’t help thinking…”
“Thinking if it’s something you did?”
“Yes.”
Cathy shook her head. “It’s more likely something at work bothering him.”
“I guess you’re right,” Kelly said. “Maybe it’s a case or something, although his little firm mainly does wills, real estate transactions, stuff like that. I don’t think he’s seen the inside of a courtroom more than half a dozen times since law school.”
“Do you tell each other about everything in your practice?” Cathy said. “Will and I don’t. I mean, if there’s something big I try to share it with him, and vice-versa. But sometimes things slip through. Maybe he’s worried about something he hasn’t told you.”
“I hope that’s it.”
“I know you and Jack have only been married a short time, but these things iron themselves out. You’ll see.”
Kelly watched Cathy leave. Why didn’t she feel reassured?
* * *
Jack Harbaugh stared at the eggs on his plate. Kelly had asked him her usual question about what he wanted for breakfast, and although he wasn’t really hungry, he’d decided it was easier to tell her something than get into a long discussion. That would come soon enough.
“Is something wrong with your breakfast?” his wife asked.
“No, this is fine.” He picked up his fork and moved the eggs around, but before he could start eating he saw Kelly bow her head. She was going to ask a blessing, whether he joined in or not. He paused, eyes down but open, until she finished. He realized that the past several days he’d been so engrossed in Alba’s case that he’d even neglected their habit of praying before meals. That should end, soon, though. Then he could tell her what was going on.
She raised her head and looked at him. “Jack, is something bothering you?”
“I’m preoccupied with a case. It’s something I can’t talk about yet. I promise that in a day or two I’ll have things wound up.” One way or another.
“I didn’t know you had many cases that came to trial. Is this one coming up soon?”
Jack shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. “Actually, I appeared before a judge a couple of days ago. The case was dismissed.”
“So, what’s still going on?”
“I… I still have one thing to do.”
He moved his eggs around on his plate. Suddenly, the sight of them was more than Jack could stomach. He used his uneaten toast to cover the almost untouched food. Then he pushed back from the table. “I’ve got to go.”
Without a word, Kelly also rose from the table. She discarded her mainly uneaten breakfast and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Then she reached back for her husband’s plate. She scraped his uneaten eggs into the garbage disposal but didn’t say anything further.
Jack stopped at the doorway from their kitchen into the attached garage, briefcase in hand. “I’ll see you this evening.” He paused before adding, “I love you.”
Kelly didn’t look up from the sink.
Jack knew that often they’d parted with a kiss and a mutual exchange of “I love you.” Today, his “I love you” was perfunctory, but it was all he could manage. His mind was already on the conversation he planned to have with his partner. Then, he’d go to the police and tell them the rest of what he knew. But first he had to tell Ainsley.
* * *
Kelly went through the door from her house into the garage almost on Jack’s heels. The unheated space was cold, so she shrugged deeper into her coat. Of course, it was December, so what else should she expect? Here in this part of Texas, snow in December was unusual, but it had come overnight—at least a light coating of the white stuff.
Kelly climbed into her car. She gave a glance to her right at her husband preparing to climb into his BMW. She decided that tonight, no matter what, she’d find out what had been bothering him.
She pushed the button to open the garage door, then started her Subaru sedan. Kelly looked in the rearview mirror and saw less than an inch of snow on the driveway. There was also a dusting of snow on the roof of the house directly across the alley. She gave a brief thought to the effect the white frozen precipitation might have on the traction of her car, and decided she’d have no problem. She slipped her car into reverse and backed down the slightly inclined drive.
Her tires took hold easily, but nevertheless she kept her speed slow. She had done this so many times, she was on automatic pilot. Kelly occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror as she cleared the garage but didn’t bother to look at the images the car’s back-up camera displayed. Suddenly she felt a bump, and the backward motion of her car hesitated, then stopped. Kelly shook her head. Please, not this morning. I’m already running late.
She looked in the car’s rearview mirror but couldn’t see what had stopped her. Kelly tapped the accelerator, but the obstruction held her car fast. She put the transmission into park and climbed out.
As she made her way carefully to the rear of the car, Kelly hoped that what had stopped her was just a mound of snow. A few moments with the shovel could take care of that. She might even be able to simply go forward a bit, then put the car in reverse, push down on the accelerator, power over the obstruction and be on her way.
But after she came past the car’s rear bumper she realized that the bump she’d felt wasn’t snow. It was the body of a man lying in the driveway, blocking her passage. His left hand, which lay outstretched beneath the right rear wheel of her still-running car, seemed to be reaching out to her.
Kelly bent over and took the free hand of the corpse to feel for a pulse, but—as she knew before she started—there was none. The body was cold and stiff. There was no need to call for help. The man was beyond that. The next thing was to notify the police. But first she had to tell her husband.
She rose from her position next to the corpse and called out to Jack, who was still sitting in his car with the door partially open, waiting for Kelly to clear the driveway. “Jack, come here. There’s a dead man in our driveway.”

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