Hoops
by
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Charlie McCaffrey stared at his prospective new client and fought the impulse to tell Michael Patterson to find another lawyer. It was a fight he knew he could win. He'd damn well won his share. If Patterson could pay him up front, he would take the case. So what if the guy was a calculating, arrogant, contemptible piece of sh**. He'd defended worse. For the past twenty minutes Patterson had been giving him instructions in such a condescending tone that he had wanted to throttle the guy. Now Patterson seemed to have run out of things to say. "How'd you get my name?" "Word of mouth, that kind of thing." "And what words came out of the mouths you were listening to?" "That you have a solo practice, that you have an excellent working relationship with the attorney general's criminal division and that you do a better than average job of plea bargaining." Patterson paused and it seemed to Charlie that he was going through a mental checklist. "Oh yes. And you're probably not the guy to hire if a case is going to trial." Charlie bristled. Patterson was talking down to him, talking to him like he didn't have a f***ing care in the world. The guy was ice, smug in his tailored three-piece suit and Ivy League tie. Christ, the guy hadn't even loosened his tie. Had it pressed up close to his throat, perfectly in place. Looking like he was about to go out to some fancy dinner instead of being locked up in a stinkpot of a holding cell. No law school at nights for this guy while trying to hold down a day job and feed a family. Maybe Patterson despised him as much as he detested Patterson. But Patterson had done his homework. The guy's assessment was on the money. Being the best man of the chief of the attorney general's criminal division didn't hurt when it came to plea bargaining. So what if trial work wasn't his strong suit. "How you going to pay me?" "Does cash offend you?" "Cash will do just fine." "I understand your usual retainer is $5,000." Charlie tried not to show his surprise. This guy had checked him out. Thoroughly. "You understand correctly." "When you leave here, go by my house. My wife will have the money for you." "How's she taking all this?" There was a surprised look on Patterson's face, as if he had never considered the question. "She's devastated," he said finally. The words were said matter-of-factly, without emotion. Who the hell would marry this c***sucker! "Anything else?" "You clear on what I want you to do?" "Yeah. It's not all that complicated." "Humor me. Go over it one more time." Charlie took a deep breath, resenting the overt insult. But f*** the guy. Five thou was five thou and this could be the easiest five thou he had ever made. If everything went the way Patterson wanted he'd be rid of the guy in three days except for sentencing. "You want to know whether the attorney general will agree to let you out on personal recognizance if you plead guilty at the arraignment. You want thirty days to get your affairs in order. Do I have it right?" he added, not bothering to hide the sarcasm. "Yeah. That's it. Can you do it?" "Maybe. I'll give it the old college try." "What conditions will I have to agree to?" "For one, surrender your passport." Patterson nodded. "No problem." "They're going to bring up restitution." "The money's gone." "Oh?" "There's nothing to restore." "I've made a few calls. We're talking millions here." "And like I said, it's gone." Charlie tried not to laugh. He'd been lied to by the best of them. "If you say so. You want me to give them a hint where it may have gone?" Patterson had to think about that one. So . . . Patterson hadn't come up with a prepared answer for everything.
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About the Book
Richard Nye, the head of a large Boston law firm’s probate department, finds his well-ordered life spiraling out of control when the department’s junior partner, Michael Patterson, is arrested for stealing over three million dollars from clients’ accounts. Holding himself personally responsible for the firm’s financial loss, Richard withdraws into a shell of self-pity. He threatens to quit the firm’s basketball team and resents the efforts of his best friend, litigation partner Brian Murphy, to pair him up with his legal intern, former college basketball star Hazel Wynott, a divorced mother of two. Richard sees his career disintegrating as some of his partners seek to hold him financially responsible for Michael’s embezzlement. When Richard decides to play for his firm's team, he comes to realize that basketball is the one thing that provides him with genuine moments of joy. The season takes an unexpected turn when Hazel shows up for the first practice of what had always been a men’s team. Michael engages sole practitioner Charlie McCaffrey to arrange a plea bargain and when the bargain is made, Michael disappears. Left penniless by her husband, Michael’s wife, Janet, turns to Charlie for help. Against his better judgment, Charlie comes up with an idea to get Janet back on her feet, and his plan to bring Michael to justice proves both comic and dangerous. In part, HOOPS is a love and basketball story for thirty-somethings. Basketball plays a major role in the lives of Richard, Hazel and Brian and each finds that coming to terms with that role and knowing when its time to give up the game, is part of growing up. Set in what may be Larry Bird’s final year with the Boston Celtics, HOOPS is laugh out loud funny, suspenseful, and that rare novel that depicts likeable characters confronting personal crises with results that ring true.
About the Author
Ken Behar practices law in Boston, Massachusetts. He lives with his wife, the artist Linda Behar, in Lexington, Massachusetts.