Michael Malone - Weebly

your upcoming trial and your quarrel with Mr. Haig,
which seems to be fairly common knowledge, I quite
honestly would hate to have to take your case to a jury
if there were any hard circumstantial evidence to tie you
to this crime."
Henry, hugging his hurt arm, sat down in a black
cloth director's chair beside the dragon. He put his hand
on it, then looked up at the lawyer with a derisive grin.
"No shit," he said. "They'll fry my ass."
"Look here, you're going to have to talk to
someone sooner or later, so why don't you talk to me?
If you like, hire me for a dollar right now. Everything
you say will be privileged. How involved are you in
this? Because let's not waste time pretending you don't
know what I'm talking about. What happened out
there?"
Henry's eyes whirred up at the tall, thin man whose
pajama cuffs clung to his hands beneath the soaked
summer jacket, water dripping from his glasses and
from the gray strands of hair matted on his forehead.
"What does she say?" he asked Abernathy.
"Who? Mrs. Haig?"