“Good thing I brought them in person,” I interrupted. “You could be facing arrest for tampering with the mail instead of just charges of vulgarity for lifting someone else’s correspondence.”

He swept past my interruption. “I have a call in to August Dickerson at the Lawyer. He’s a personal friend; I think I can count on him to quash any mention of Todd’s private affairs.”

“Why can’t you just say ‘suppress’?” I asked irritably. “Aren’t you past the age where you need to show how many wonderful legal terms you know? You make me think of the Northwestern medical residents who always wear their doctor gowns to the grocery store across the street.… Can you really keep the Chicago Lawyer from printing my letter? What about the Herald-Star? Is Marshall Townley also a personal friend? Or is he just a client of Crawford, Mead?” Townley published the paper.

“You know I can’t reveal our client list,” he snorted.

I kept my voice humble. “The thing is, I also sent a copy of the letter to a reporter I know. He might not do anything with it as it stands, but you going out of your way to keep it out of the legal rag—well, that is news, Dick. You should tell your secretary to stand by for a call from Murray Ryerson. And I’ll mail another copy to Leigh Wilton. Maybe you can bribe the receptionist to bring it to you when it arrives.”

His final words to me were not a pledge of everlasting friendship.

15

Step Aside, Sisyphus

The morning went downhill from there. On my way back from my run I stopped to talk to Mrs. Hellstrom. I realized I’d been too upset Friday night to tell her what had happened to the dogs. Distress made her voluble. She grew even more dismayed when I broke in to tell her about Mrs. Frizell’s condition.

“I’ll have to go over there this morning to visit. Mr. Hellstrom doesn’t like me having anything to do with her, she’s an unpleasant neighbor in some ways, but we’ve been through a lot together. I can’t leave her rotting there.”

“The nurses don’t want her told about her dogs until she’s stronger,” I warned.

“As if I would do such a cruel thing. But that Mr. Pichea—an you be sure he won’t?”

A new worry. When I stopped at home to shower and have breakfast I called Nelle McDowell, the charge nurse at the women’s orthopedic ward. When I explained the situation, and asked her please not to let either of the Picheas see Mrs. Frizell alone, she gave a sardonic crack of laughter.

“It’s not that I disagree. I agree a hundred percent. But we’re shorthanded here as it is. And he’s the lady’s legal guardian. I can’t stop him if he wants to come visit her.”