Free The Law Partners (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series Book 3) by John Ellsworth

Cook County Democratic Party is a volatile mashup of every conceivable economic, religious, and social interest group out there. And Elmer Bancroft is the front man for it all, the man who agreed that Mira Morales would be the party's candidate for District Attorney in the first place.
    Danny and I are loyal contributors to both political parties in Chicago and it isn't from any deep-seated need to see any agenda furthered. No, we contribute so that, when we are picking juries, we have access to both parties' databases in order to get additional background information about prospective jurors. Everyone with a brain does this in Chicago, criminal lawyers and civil litigators alike. After all, jury panels come from voter registration rolls. It's only good business that we remain active so we have access to citizen demographics and likely social tendencies.
    I ask him, "Did anyone notice Mira having words with someone? An altercation of some kind?"
    Bancroft leans back in his deep leather chair. He places his fingertips together and shifts some imaginary weight between them. A red toothpick protrudes from the corner of his mouth. He switches it to the other side as he thinks.
    "Well, I didn't see anything. Not that I would have even noticed, Michael. I get pretty wrapped up in what's happening on the dais to ever notice anything else. You might ask some of the precinct bosses who were there. I'm thinking in particular of Natty McMann."
    "And who is Natty McMann?" asks Marcel. He has come here with me today as we try to put together a list of names among the party functionaries worth talking to.
    "Natty is our sergeant-at-arms. He would likely have noticed if anyone got out of line."
    "He has people roaming the crowd with their eyes open, is what you're saying," says Marcel.
    Bancroft nods. "That's exactly what I'm saying." Then he changes the subject. "So what do you fellows think? Do we need to replace Mira on the ticket and not look back? Or is this going to wrap up and go away pretty soon? What do we do?"
    The question is mine to field.
    "It's not going to evaporate, if that's what you're hoping. Prosecutors going after one of their own are very, very careful, very circumspect. They know they will be in for the fight of their lives whenever they indict another prosecutor. No, this case will be around for a while. But that doesn't mean you should dump Mira. I'm strongly convinced she's not guilty."
    Again with the toothpick. Other side of the mouth.
    "That may be, but this case will be dragging on into the fall, am I right? Hell, boys, the election's in November. I think this pretty much gets her kicked out."
    "We've had our initial appearance, Mr. Bancroft," I advise him. "The judge put this on the fast-track calendar. We have a trial date of October thirty-first. That's a firm date. So you'll know her status before the election. Everyone will. And if you dump her now it will look like you're admitting she's guilty of something. You'll also be dumping your best chance of beating out Lamont Johnstone in the general election. I would caution you against dumping her. In fact, as her attorney, I'm begging you not to. It would really hurt her case for the public to see her party pull away from her."
    "There is that," Bancroft allows. "There is that. Tell you what. I'm going to sit on this through August and keep my ear to the ground. If it is looking good for her, I'll know by September one. We can still field a new face at that time if need be."
    "Elegant," I say, suddenly hot under the collar. "A betrayal that's not. Because if you don't like what you're hearing in August or September, you're going to dump her and that's going to make choosing a jury very difficult, considering that Cook County juries run four-to-one Democrat in their makeup. A fallen star won't sit well with those folks. You'll make my job twice as hard."
    He smiles and leans forward in a rush. He withdraws the toothpick and points it at me.
    "That, Michael