The Advocate's Devil by Alan M. Dershowitz Page B

embarrassing
     to them or that they believe may hurt their defense. Then when they see the hard evidence, they begin to get with the program.”
    “Still, how would he know about it?” Justin asked. “Did she tell him?”
    “And if she did tell him, why didn’t he tell us? And why did he cover up that he knew about it since that fact would help
     him?” Rendi handed the report to Abe as she spoke.
    “Maybe she’s not telling the truth,” Abe said.
    “Abe, take the stars out of your eyes, at least for a minute,” Rendi cautioned. “Something’s not right. I have a funny feeling
     about this report.”
    “Funny feelings don’t usually make a good underpinning for a defense—or a prosecution.” Abe heard how caustic he sounded,
     but he couldn’t help it. Rendi was always good at popping holes in his balloons—too good. “Listen, I really appreciate your
     dashing down here like this. As usual, you’re right on the spot. Now, if we’re going to make that meeting before Campbell
     leaves for Cleveland, Justin and I have to go. Where’s your car?”
    “In a lot. You are paying my expenses.”
    “I’ll walk you. Justin, wait for me here.”
    They walked in step together, though Abe had to push it to keep up with Rendi’s brisk pace. Rendi seemed to grow slimmer and
     taller as Abe thickened a bit around the middle. It was her discipline about working out, he was sure. “Listen, you know I’m
     not going to let this slide, Rendi. I just don’t want to be confrontational. Campbell is a good client for us.”
    They walked in silence. Rendi did not try to force the Campbell issue. She was quiet, which was unusual for her. In fact,
     she seemed distracted. “What’s on your mind?” Abe asked.
    “Nothing, really. You know… the Campbell case.”
    “There’s
never
nothing on your mind, Rendi. Now tell me the real reason you drove this report from Cambridge to New York.”
    “I wanted to show it to you in person—and, I missed you.”
    Abe was surprised. This was unlike Rendi, whom he considered to be without a vulnerable bone or soft streak in her limber
     body. Rendi was all muscle and heat and courage.
    “I haven’t seen you since you took on the Campbell case,” she went on.
    “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s been two days.”
    “Two days can be a long time or a short time, depending.”
    “You sound like Haskel.”
    “I consider that a great compliment.”
    “It is.” He ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you tonight.”
    “Ciao.”
    When Abe returned to Justin, the younger man did not hide his annoyance at having been abandoned on the streets of New York.
     Abe tried to mollify him: placing an arm around his shoulder, he asked Justin’s advice as to how to confront Campbell with
     the apparent inconsistency. “I don’t want Campbell to think we’re calling him a liar. This is one client we don’t want to
     lose. I’ve got to get him to trust us with the truth. An innocent defendant can really get hung out to dry if he starts prevaricating.”
    “For a start, don’t use the word
prevaricate
with Joe. He strikes me as the kind of guy who would prefer to be called a liar than a prevaricator.”
    “Well, I don’t think he’s either. He’s probably just scared.”
    Joe greeted them at the door of his spacious penthouse apartment, which—to Abe’s surprise—was full of books, magazines, fine
     lithographs on the wall, and classical CDs. Joe led them through the living room to a den that was dominated by a large computer,
     with a laser printer, a modem/fax, and all sorts of programs and instruction books. It looked like the apartment of a young
     assistant professor in Cambridge.
    Campbell saw Abe’s look as he took in the room. “Surprised?” he asked, smiling. “Did you expect to see girlie pictures and
     sports magazines?”
    Abe was visibly embarrassed. “Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see an intellectual’s pad. You’re a more complex man than
     you