July 15, 1968
“Marty, Marty, stop carrying on about a single case,” J.T. urged. “Especially until we have a look at the rest of the file and see what it’s really about.”
They were in the back of J.T.’s car. Stern was driving.
“It couldn’t have happened the way you’re saying, J.T. Levine couldn’t have done all this on his own.”
“I told him to handle the matter, and to get Judge Moriarty’s approval in advance for anything that might be the slightest bit questionable. He said he did. What’s wrong with that?”
“Moriarty would approve anything, even drawing and quartering suspects.”
“Well, what can we do about that? He’s the judge presiding over all our cases in Kings County. If we went to him and he gave us his approval in advance, what did we do wrong?”
“Technically, nothing.”
“The law is a technical thing, Marty. Everything we do is technical.”
“What about the fact that you didn’t tell me anything that was going on, approval or not?” Marty asked.
“Do you want to handle the entire case, just to make sure I’m not pulling anything sneaky here?”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Sure it is. I insist on it. You’re assigned to handle the case personally, as of right now. Especially since it’s right out in front of everyone’s nose right now. Fred has to get on top of the press coverage, and you get on top of the case. The papers have been kicking us all over the place, and we sure don’t need any more of that. Particularly now.”
Stern stopped the car in front of 270 Broadway. “Park the car and then come upstairs,” J.T. told him.
Marty and J.T. got out and entered the building. As they rode an otherwise empty elevator up to the twentieth floor, J.T. turned to Marty and said enthusiastically, “Wait till you hear about the new project I have on the boards.”
“We haven’t cleared up the old project,” Marty pointed out.
“That’s small potatoes,” J.T. said. “This is something really exciting, and may get us out of the dreary prosecution business altogether.”
“Okay, I’m curious. What is it?”
“Last night when you called, George DeValen was at the house. We were having a private talk.”
“Yes?”
“Well, DeValen has always been interested in my career. He and I get together once or twice a week to go over his legal matters and to talk. When we’re finished in the special prosecutor’s office, he’s going to give us a big fat retainer so we can start our own office.”
“He said that years ago. Is that the big news?”
“Not all of it. The big news is that DeValen thinks we might be able to do very well in the Republican mayoral primary.”
“You’re not serious.”
“I am serious. The Republicans have no one to run against Livingston, now that he’s running on a Democratic line. And DeValen feels the city is getting a conservative bent. Law and order. The private citizens are tired of hiding in their homes while the criminals roam free in the streets. He wants to start a ‘Draft Wright for Mayor’ campaign. What do you think?”
Marty stared at J.T. The elevator stopped at their floor. “I can’t believe it,” he said as they entered the office.
“Good morning,” said the receptionist, peeking up from her magazine.
“Good morning,” said Marty.
“Why, what’s wrong with the idea?” J.T. asked anxiously.
“You mean other than its being insane?”
“Why insane?”
“What happens with the special prosecutor’s office? You couldn’t keep the job and run for mayor, could you?”
“We’d resign. You’re tired of it anyway, aren’t you?”
“When did you decide that for me?”
“Well, I am, I know that. There aren’t too many big cases now. With this one against Tauber, maybe we can finish in a blaze of glory, start our own practice with DeValen’s fat retainer, and then enter the primary races. What do you think?”
“Open a practice with DeValen as our only client?”
“It’ll be a really big initial retainer. This way it’s a tax-deductible legal fee for DeValen, rather than an outright political contribution to our mayoral campaign.”
“That man doesn’t stop for a minute, does he?”
“He’s clever, isn’t he?”
“You two make a good match.”
“However, clever as DeValen is, I’m one step ahead of him,” J.T. scoffed. “Even if the mayoral thing doesn’t work out, the publicity, together with the publicity we’ve gotten from this job, will help us draw clients in private practice. And DeValen’s retainer will pay the nut.”
Marty shook his head. “I don’t like being too involved with DeValen. He’s too slick.”
“As long as he wants to foot the bills to get us going, what’s the difference?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to get out on that private-practice limb and then have it cut out from under me because DeValen becomes disenchanted with the boy wonder. It’ll take time to get an office going, you know.”
“I don’t like being at anyone’s mercy either. But it’s a springboard out of here. Besides, when I’m the mayor, we’ll be on top of the world. Mayor of the greatest city in the world, the Emerald City …”
“And you’ll be the Wizard of Oz?”
“No, the Wizard of Otto.”
They both laughed.
“You’re not mad anymore, are you?” J.T. asked Marty cautiously.
“You’re something else, Otto, you really are.”
“As long as I’m not wrong, I’m okay. Am I still right?”
“You’re always Wright. But I don’t know if you’re right.”