sheets but no cover, and no blanket in a New York summer; two wooden chairs; a stained bureau; and a large bookcase with books in English and Chinese. On the third shelf of the bookcase there was an open niche that was empty except for a small, bronze saucer with incense ash in itâwhere the Buddha that sent Jimmy to jail had been.
A windowless middle room set up with a mattress on the floor, two low, Oriental chairs, and a television set.
A rear room bright with the late afternoon sun through backyard windows. A totally empty room. Some shelves, hooks on the walls, and nothing else.
âHe usually keeps this room locked,â Marie Schmidt said behind me. âBurglars. The fire escapeâs out there, and Jimmy was afraid of burglars. They might steal his treasures.â
She looked behind her at the bare, cheap furniture. She shook her head as if she would never understand people or life. She wasnât alone in that feeling.
âEven here, four rooms donât cost peanuts,â I said. âDid Jimmy make enough money for this and his booze?â
âNot money,â Marie Schmidt said. âWork. He helps the super, gets free rent. Thatâs why this building is clean, painted. He doesnât pay for much except booze, he works for it. He likes work. See what itâs gotten him?â
10
I called Lieutenant Marx before I went down to the prison, and when I got there they were expecting me. Marx had said I could see Jimmy Sungâwith Jimmyâs lawyer.
The lawyer was a big, energetic-looking man with a heavy briefcase and eyes sunk deep in the heavy black sockets of a man who rarely got enough sleep. His name was Kandinsky. He wanted to know what I had. I told him. It wasnât much, but Kandinsky hadnât expected much.
âThe wife too?â the lawyer said. âThe sister-in-law hires me, the wife hires you. Good, I can use that.â
âHis priest hired me too, swears by Jimmy,â I said.
âA Buddhist kook wonât carry much weight with a jury sure to be half-Catholic, half-Jewish,â Kandinsky said se riously, âbut the wife thinking he didnât do it is good. I can deal with that. With no real motive, a shaky case on the robbery, that bad deal out in the California nut house, and the victimâs wife and sister-in-law on our side, the D.A.âll have to deal. I can get delays and rulings forever. Heâll settle for a minimum charge, and a guilty plea. Clear the calendar. Five years tops.â
âHow about if I prove him innocent?â
âWell, thatâs the hard way, but go ahead and try,â Kandinsky said. âThat all you have?â
âThatâs all.â
The lawyer nodded, and when Jimmy was brought into the visitors room, gave the stocky Chinese a reassuring smile.
âItâs good, Jimmy. Iâm sure I can deal for you. Behave yourself, get some sleep. Iâve got four more clients to see today, okay?â
The lawyerâs smile seemed to still be in the room after he had gone. I watched Jimmy. The stocky manâs broad, pale-brown face revealed nothing, not even the alcoholicâs torture inside without his liquor. His dark eyes blinked at the door where Kandinsky had left. His work-gnarled fingers ran through his thinning gray hairâthe only sign of any nerves.
âHeâs a good lawyer?â Jimmy said.
âIâd say so,â I said. âHe must be costing Li Marais a lot.â
Jimmy nodded, didnât smile. âSheâs a good woman, sure. I know. We understand.â
âKandinskyâll deal for you, Jimmy. Iâd like to get the truth. Tell me the whole story, okay?â
âTruth?â Jimmy Sungâs dark eyes were immobile. âWhat truth you mean, Mr. Fortune? I told the cops all I know.â
âAnd a lot of lies,â I said. âYou were there that night?â
âOkay, yeh. I got there maybe ten oâclock. For chess. We
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes