Mac returned to the office just in time for the litigation luncheon to be held at the India House, on Hanover Square. The law firm held its litigation luncheons at the landmark lower Manhattan club, given its proximity to the Wall Street firm, its stately ambiance, and the fact that many of the partners belonged to the Club, along with Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Hopkins, and various other movers and shakers.
Mac dropped his trial bag, leaving his office with another associate to walk down to the luncheon, without stopping to call Sara. The two young lawyers walked the few blocks down William Street, past Delmonico's, over to Hanover Square, while discussing Mac's good fortune of having gotten some courtroom experience that morning.
Mac walked into the second-floor mariner motif luncheon room where a proper meal would be served to the lawyers by red waist coated, less fortunate men. Foster Dulles, having already been there, motioned to Mac, indicating to Mac that he should sit next to him, with the partners, much to the clear jealousy of the other young associates, and to the apparent curiosity of the fellow partners.
“How did it go, Mac?” Dulles asked.
“We won the motion, sir. It was fine. Judge Smith sends his regards.”
“I know you won, Mac. Judge Smith called me to tell me how good you were. Persuasive and charming, he said. I was asking how it went for you, your first time arguing a motion. Were you nervous?”
“No, sir. I was properly prepared.”
“That's great, Mac. Glad to hear it. Proper preparation leads to prosperous performance, the four Ps of litigation. You heard from Mrs. Schlipp that you will be going to meet Luciano tomorrow morning?”
“Yes, sir. She called me last night with the details. I am ready. I met with an old friend of mine from the Navy Yard. He filled me in on the lay of the land over there. It seems involving Mr. Luciano is a good idea.”
“I hear he is a character, Mac. Don’t let him charm you. Be alert and be insistent. He will like you. Don’t let him suck you in, though. He is a snake.”
“I can handle him, sir. I have certainly known men like him before. I will be careful.”
“I assure you, son, that you have never met a man like Lucky Luciano before. He is a stone-cold killer. Do not forget that no matter how charming he seems, he would put a bullet in your head just as soon as look at you.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mac, as he took a forkful of herring, having not eaten a thing since early that morning, and wanting to put an end to the disturbing conversation.
He was glad the luncheon lecture was beginning. Mac felt he was ready for anything and anyone. In fact, rather than being put off by the warning of his mentor, he was looking forward to his meeting with the reputed gangster; he was excited.
One of the firm's associates spoke about a recent decision of the United States Supreme Court, Cantwell v. Connecticut, a First Amendment, Freedom of Religion case, which promptly caused Mac to glaze over, lost in his thoughts. Of course, he was thinking about Sara, their time together, and her being missing since. The lecture ended without fanfare, with no clapping or even acknowledgement on the part of the partners in attendance. As Mac was leaving the luncheon room, Dulles called him over. He was standing with a gentleman in a grey pattern double breasted suit, with a big brush of a graying mustache, the same shade as his less than carefully coiffed hair.
“Mac, meet my brother, Allen Dulles. He is a partner at the firm, which I am sure you know. I am not sure if your paths have crossed yet?”
Mac knew of Allen Dulles, of course, but he had never been formally introduced. Rumor had it that he was spending more time in Washington these days, working on developing a new spy agency for the United States.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Dulles. I have heard a lot about you, but I do not believe I have had the pleasure.”
“None of it is true, I assure you,” laughed Allen Dulles. “My brother has a way of exaggerating my eccentricities.”
“I have only heard the good things, sir,” assured Mac in playful response. “The exciting things.”
“Well Mac, my brother has told me good things about you as well. I am hoping that our paths will be crossing soon.”
“That is why I wanted to introduce you two,” said Foster Dulles.
“It would be a pleasure to get to know you, Mr. Dulles. I look forward to it.”
Mac shook hands with the two older gentlemen, and he walked out of the room, as they got involved in another conversation. Mac walked back to his Wall Street office with a few of the other young litigation associates in tow, as they chidingly poked fun at his seemingly being promoted to partner. He laughed along with them, but he secretly was proud that he had been invited into the inner circle, the first to do so among his peers. His confidence was soaring, after the day he had so far, and even the kidding of his friends was not going to spoil it.
As Mac walked into his office area, Mrs. Appleton retrieved a message slip from her desk. She handed it to Mac, as he walked towards his office.
“Mr. Martin,” said Mrs. Appleton, as Mac walked into his office. “That message is from Miss Mandakovich. She called for you. I know you were waiting for that call.”
“What? When did she call? What did she say?”
“Whoa, cowboy,” said Mrs. Appleton, clearly taken aback by Mac's abruptness. “The information is on the message I just gave to you. If you had looked at it, you would have known without being so rude.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Appleton. It's just that I have been trying to reach her for days. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.”
Mrs. Appleton nodded her head at him. “She said she would call you back when she could; that she could not be reached, but that she would call you again. She said she was very sorry. She called about a half hour ago, while you were out at the luncheon. It sounded like she was in a train station, or something.”
“If she calls again, please put her through. Thanks Mrs. Appleton. Again, I am sorry for being rude. It will not happen again,” said Mac, as he went back to his office.
Mrs. Appleton once again nodded in Mac's direction, albeit at his back, as he left her. While Mac sat by his phone all afternoon, it never did ring, except for when Frank Hogan had called himself to confirm the next day's travel arrangements.