Everybody Rise by Stephanie Clifford Page A

fast. The ex-husband apparently was not satisfied, though we’d done our damnedest to help him and his family and his town. When the government came knocking he said that we, that Leiberg Channing, were bribing these experts to give the testimony they gave. The Wallen Pharma case didn’t fall within the statute of limitations, but he alleged that these payoffs occurred in his second case. I think he had little more than a single e-mail where we’d talked about paying these experts, which of course is perfectly legal.” Dale leaned back in his chair, as carefree as if he were out tanning on spring break.
    â€œBut the government can’t make a case out of that,” Evelyn said.
    Dale directed a smile toward her mother’s back that dropped like an unreturned serve. “That’s right. I knew you’d get it. There isn’t”—he pronounced it “idn’t”—“anything there. The pharmaceutical companies are major donors to the Bush administration, and all these Bush prosecutors with their Ivy League schools want to go after the small fry like me who are helping everyday Americans. But the joke’s on them, honey. All they’ve been able to produce after their big investigation is a single ex-husband of an old client who says that we did something illegal years ago. The Bush administration and the Republicans want nothing more than—”
    A thwack of a hand against glass. Barbara, at the window: “Will you stop blaming your problems on a Republican conspiracy?”
    Dale flipped his palms up to signal that he was being open. “Barbara, we can argue about this all over hell and half of Georgia, but when federal prosecutors can subpoena whatever they like and whoever they like to investigate a firm that is notably hated by their major Republican donors, the connection is not hard to make.”
    Evelyn looked to her mother, but Barbara was staring down a squirrel outside. Evelyn turned her head back to her father, who was wearing a bright green polo shirt made of a too-thin jersey material that emphasized his ribby midsection.
    â€œSo what’s going to happen?” Evelyn said.
    Dale propped a leg on the coffee table. “They haven’t charged the firm or any of the partners, because the evidence—or what they think passes for evidence—is thin grits and they know they can’t get anywhere with it. I—your mother, mostly—thought you should hear about this from us, though.”
    â€œThen why don’t you tell her what’s actually happening?” Barbara said, spitting out the words. “Or tell her what to say when she’s ignored at the Channings’ party today. That’s right, you didn’t mention that part, did you? Why don’t you tell your daughter all about how these Republican prosecutors seem to be focusing on you? Not Tommy Channing, not Larry Leiberg? Or tell her what the government’s really looking into—that your firm was doing large-scale bribes, giving the experts a cut of the jury verdict or the settlement, so that maybe, just maybe, they might overemphasize what happened to poor Peg Oney, or poor whomever you’re representing?” She was talking so fast that her words slammed together, and when she was done, she leaned against the window frame, looking exhausted.
    Dale blinked, the pleasant smile on his face not changing. After a minute, he picked up the conversation again. “Well, secret’s out, I guess. Because I was the lawyer handling these cases, from what we can put together, it looks like some of the focus may be on me. Let me be clear, the three of us—Larry, Tommy, and myself—all worked together on all the cases.”
    â€œThe charges,” Evelyn said quickly, shaking her head. “Valeriya. Valeriya said you’ve been home since Wednesday. That’s not normal for you. God. She meant legal charges. What are