A Matter of Life and Death by Phillip Margolin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📕

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I do. I will not let one of my clients die, even if it means breaking the law. Remember the old adage. It’s better to beg for forgiveness and then ask permission.”

“I hope you don’t end up begging for a reduced sentence.”

Robin kissed Jeff on the cheek and got out of the car. Jeff followed her across the street and up Rostov’s driveway. Robin tried the front door, but it was locked.

“Let’s go around back,” she said.

The side yard and backyard was a mass of weeds and unmown grass. A rusted car was up on blocks near a back door. Robin peered through the glass pane in the upper half of the door.

“I can’t see much. I think this opens into a living room.”

She tried the knob. The door was locked. She hesitated. Then she used her elbow to shatter the glass. Jeff started to say something, then thought better of it. He’d learned long ago that Robin was going to do what Robin wanted to do.

Robin reached in and opened the door. “Give me your flashlight,” she whispered.

Jeff handed it to her, and she moved the beam around an open space with a television, sofa, a recliner, and bookshelves. The bookshelves surprised her, as did the titles that filled them. Nietzsche and Mein Kampf weren’t easy reads.

Robin heard a sound like the one a hammer makes when it smashes down on a melon. She turned just as Jeff’s eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed. Standing over him was Andre Rostov, who was brandishing the large handgun he had used to knock out Jeff. Rostov flipped on the living room light.

“Drop the flashlight and raise your hands.”

Robin did what she was told.

“Who the fuck are you?” Rostov asked.

That question gave Robin an idea.

“I’m someone who’d kick your ass if you didn’t have that gun.”

Rostov stared, open-mouthed. Then he burst out laughing.

“You’ve got guts, but that won’t save you or your boyfriend.”

“I don’t need guts to beat the shit out of a muscle-bound ape. Your size probably scares people. But I bet you’ve never been in a real fight.”

Rostov looked angry. “I’d love to beat you to death, but I’m in a hurry.”

Robin looked Rostov in the eye and smiled. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

Rostov was about to say something. Then he stopped and stared.

“You’re the lawyer who’s representing Lattimore. The fighter.”

“If we fought,” Robin taunted Rostov, “I’d try to kick you in the balls, but I’m afraid I’d miss a target that small.”

That did it. Rostov grinned and tossed his gun onto the easy chair that was at his elbow.

“This is gonna be fun. First, I’m going to beat you until you beg me to stop. Then I’ll let you discover just how big my dick is.”

Robin pulled out the gun in the holster at her back and shot Rostov in his right kneecap. The giant screamed, collapsed on the floor, and rolled back and forth in agony.

Robin kept her gun aimed at Rostov as she edged around him and knelt next to Jeff. His breathing was shallow, and there was a bloody gash on the top of his head. Robin tamped down the urge to kill Rostov. She wanted to avenge Jeff, but Joe Lattimore’s life hung in the balance.

Robin dialed 911 and asked for an ambulance and the police. Then she turned her attention to Rostov, who appeared to have conquered his pain enough to glare at her.

“Here’s the deal, Mr. Rostov,” she said in the businesslike tone she used when she was negotiating a plea. “You have a recording of Joseph Lattimore’s fight. I want it. Give it to me or I’ll blow out kneecap number two, and you can see how tough you are in prison with no legs.”

“You stupid bitch,” Rostov shot back. “You’re the one who’s going to prison for breaking into my house and assaulting me.”

“I remember things differently, Andre,” Robin answered calmly. “I remember you assaulting my investigator, then holding me at gunpoint and threatening to rape me. That’s when I pulled out my gun and shot you. Who do you think the cops will believe?”

“Fuck you.”

“I hope you have a good health plan,” Robin said as she aimed at Rostov’s undamaged kneecap.

“Wait! Stop!” Rostov shouted. “Let’s make a deal. I know things that the cops will want to know.”

“What kind of things?”

“Lattimore didn’t kill Ortega. I know who did, and I know who killed Carasco’s wife. If I tell what I know, your client will walk.”

“You’ve got my attention. Keep going.”

“I was just a bit player. All I did was drive Lattimore to the judge’s house. But I can ID the man who beat the judge’s wife to death and the person who sent him to do it.”

“Your word won’t be enough.”

Rostov smiled through his pain. “I was the one who filmed your client’s fight with Ortega.”

“I’ve seen it on YouTube.”

“But you haven’t seen all of it. I kept filming when the fight ended. What’s on the rest of the recording was my insurance policy if the people behind the fights and the murder of Mrs. Carasco tried anything with me. It’s also my get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Where is the recording?”

“It’s not here, but I can get it as soon as I get immunity. Believe me, the cops will be drooling when they find out what I know and can prove.”

“I’m not a cop. I can’t promise you anything.”

“But you know people who can. Make the call.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

When Jeff opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Robin. She was sitting next to his hospital bed, holding his hand. Jeff blinked, unsure of where he was.

“You’ll be okay,” Robin said, choking up as she spoke. “The doctors say you’ll be fine.”

Robin could see that Jeff was having trouble focusing. She wasn’t surprised. Jeff’s doctor had told her that the concussion would make him disoriented and groggy.

“Where…?” Jeff managed.

“You’re in the hospital. You’ll be okay in a day