Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [79]
“And a long one for you,” she said.
“Yeah.”
He tried to read her: Would she be disappointed if he called it a night, to the extent that she would decide to look elsewhere for male companionship? Or, if he transformed himself from cop to lover and suggested they spend the night together, would she turn him down because she’d decided she wasn’t interested in sex that night, and make him feel foolish?
She answered his questions by saying, “You have your class in the morning. What did you say it’s about, Lincoln as a lawyer?”
He nodded. “Taught by one of the lawyers for—”
Her eyebrows went up.
“Mackensie Smith. He used to be a criminal lawyer, but now he teaches at GW.”
“You started to say—”
“Nothing. Yeah, I have his class tomorrow, and then back on the investigation. You should meet my partner, Mo Johnson. A great guy.”
“You’ve mentioned him before.”
“He’s got a nice family. He’s a big jazz buff.”
She laughed. “Another stereotype.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Jazz is a black music. That’s the stereotype. It’s wrong, I know, but—”
“He’s serious about it. A real scholar. I never see Mo as being black. I mean, sure, I know he’s Afro-American because his skin is darker than mine, the way I know you’re a female, or somebody is short or tall. But he’s just my partner, a guy. When I was in college, I voted against allowing a black student into my fraternity, not because he was black, but because he was a jerk, a real pain in the butt. I figured that represented true racial equality because I would have done the same for a white pain in the butt.”
“That’s nice,” she said.
“I suppose he views me a little differently. He brings up the black-white thing every once in a while. Can’t blame him. I understand.”
She finished her iced tea and said, “I think it’s time we head home. I have a busy morning, too.”
They parted on the sidewalk with a light kiss on the lips, then a more passionate one but not so engaged that the question would have to be resolved again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“IN EIGHTEEN FIFTY-SIX, Lincoln drew up some legal papers for a client. This was after he’d served one term in the U.S. Congress, and had returned to practicing law. The client sent Lincoln a check for twenty-five dollars for the work he’d done.”
Smith surveyed the faces in his classroom. There were grimaces and grins at the mention of Lincoln’s fee. Rick Klayman sat at the back of the classroom. He’d quietly slipped into his seat before the start of class and hadn’t attempted to greet Mac.
“Do you know what Lincoln did?” Smith asked. “He wrote his client and said, ‘You must think I am a high-priced man. You are too liberal with your money. Fifteen dollars is enough for the job.’ He sent the client a ten-dollar check.”
“Did you ever do that when you were practicing, Professor Smith?” a young woman asked. “Send money back to clients?”
“No,” Smith said. “And I don’t cite this anecdote to suggest you should, either. Good law and good lawyers cost money, and good lawyers, practicing good law, should be adequately paid. But maybe that story says something about why Lincoln rose to the top of the legal profession, and was considered an attorney without peer. Maybe that attitude of fairness contributed to his courtroom successes.”
“I don’t understand,” said another student. “Courtroom law is an advocacy situation, isn’t it? There really isn’t a lot of room for fairness when you’re fighting for your client.”
“Ah-ha,” said Smith. “You are right. A good lawyer fights for his or her client, and does whatever is necessary within the law, and courtroom rules and decorum, to win. But let’s not confuse fairness as a moral issue, with fairness as an effective courtroom tactic.”
He could see by the looks on their faces that they weren’t following.
“Let me explain,” he said, “using fairness as practiced by Abraham Lincoln. He was famous in courtrooms across Illinois and Indiana for seldom challenging the opposing lawyer, or the judge, in court. He was known for saying countless times during a trial, ‘I reckon it’s fair to let that piece of evidence