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." Sure it was,but I was not yet prepared to admit that. "Could you lose your license to practice?" "Yes, if I'm convicted of a felony, itwould be automatic." "That's awful, Mike.What would you do then?""Truthfully, I haven't thought about it.It's not going to happen." Iwas being completely honest; I had not seriously thought about losingmy- law license.Perhaps it was an issue requiring consideration, butI had not found the time for it. We politely inquired about each other'sfamily, and I remembered to ask about her brother James and hisHodgkin's disease.His treatment was under way; the family wasoptimistic. I thanked her for calling, and we promisedto keep in touch.When I laid the cell phone next to the pizza, Istared at the muted game and grudgingly admitted to myself that Imissed her. RUBY WAS SHOWERED and shined and wearingthe fresh clothing Megan had given her yesterday.Her motel room wason the ground floor with the door facing the parking lot.She waswaiting for me.She stepped into the sunlight and hugged me tightly."I'm clean!" she said with a huge smile."For twenty-four hours I'mclean!" We hugged again. A couple in their sixties stepped from theroom two doors down and stared at us.God knows what they werethinking. We returned to the city and went toNaomi's, where Megan and her staff were waiting for the news.A smallcelebration erupted when Ruby made her announcement.Megan had told methat the biggest cheers were always for the first twenty-four hours. It was Sunday, and a local pastor arrivedto conduct a Bible study.The women gathered in the main room forhymns and prayer.Megan and I drank coffee in the garden and workedout the next twenty-four hours.In addition to prayer and worship,Ruby would get two heavy sessions of AMNA.But our optimism wasguarded.Megan lived in the midst of addiction, and she was convincedRuby would slide as soon as she returned to the streets.She saw itevery day. I could afford the motel strategy for a fewdays, and I was willing to pay for it.But I would leave for Chicagoat four that afternoon, to begin my search for Hector, and I wasn'tsure how long I would be away.Ruby liked the motel, in fact sheappeared to be quite fond of it. We decided to take things one day at atime.Megan would drive Ruby to a suburban motel, one I would pay for,and deposit her there for Sunday night.She would retrieve her Mondaymorning, and we would then worry about what to do next. Megan would also begin the task of tryingto convince Ruby she had to leave the streets.Her first stop would bea detox center, then a transitional women's shelter for six months ofstructured living, job training, and rehab. "Twenty-four hours is a big step," shesaid."But there is still a mountain to climb." I left as soon as I could.She invited meto return for lunch.We could eat in her office, just the two of us,and discuss important matters.Her eyes were dancing and daring me tosay yes.So I did. DRAKE & SWEENEY LAWYERS always flewfirstclass; they felt as if they deserved it.They stayed in four-starhotels, ate in swanky restaurants, but drew the line at limousines,which were deemed too extravagant.So they rented Lincolns.All travelexpenses were billed to the clients, and since the clients weregetting the best legal talent in the world, the clients shouldn'tcomplain about the perks. My seat on the flight to Chicago was incoach, booked at the last minute and therefore in the dreaded middle.The window seat was occupied by a hefty gentleman whose knees were thesize of basketballs, and on the aisle was a smelly youngster ofeighteen or so with jet-black hair, cut into a perfect Mohawk, andadorned in an amazing collection of black leather and pointed chrome.I squeezed myself together, closed my eyes for two hours, and triednot to think about the pompous asses sitting up there in first-class,where I once rode. The trip was in direct violation of my bailagreement --I was not to leave the District without permission of theJudge.But Mordecai and I agreed that it was a minor violation, onethat would be of no consequence as long as I returned to D.C. From O'Hare, I took a cab to an inexpensivehotel downtown. Sofia had been unable to find a newresidential address for the Palmas.If I couldn't find Hector at theDrake & Sweeney office, then we were out of luck. THE CHICAGO BRANCH of Drake & Sweeneyhad one hundred and six lawyers, third highest after Washington andNew York.The real estate section was disproportionately large, witheighteen lawyers, more than the Washington office.I assumed that wasthe reason Hector had been sent to Chicago--there was a place for him.There was plenty of work to do.I vaguely recalled some story of Drake& Sweeney absorbing a prosperous Chicago real estate firm early inmy career. I arrived at the Associated Life Buildingshortly after seven Monday morning.The day was gray and gloomy, witha vicious wind whipping across Lake Michigan.It was my third visit toChicago, and the other two times it had been just as raw.I boughtcoffee to drink and a newspaper to hide behind, and I found a vantagepoint at a table in a corner of the ground floor's vast atrium. The escalators crisscrossed to the secondand third levels where a dozen elevators stood waiting. By seven-thirty the ground floor wascrawling with busy people.At eight, after three cups of coffee, I waswired and expecting the man at any moment.The escalators were packedwith hundreds of executives, lawyers, secretaries, all bundled inheavy coats and looking remarkably similar. At eight-twenty, Hector Palma entered theatrium from the south side of the building, stepping hurriedly insidewith a swarm of other commuters.He raked his fingers through hiswind-tossed hair and went straight for the escalators.As casually aspossible, I walked to another escalator, and eased my way up thesteps.I caught a glimpse of him as he turned a corner to wait for anelevator. It was definitely Hector, and I decided notto press my luck.My assumptions were correct; he had been transferredout of Washington, in the middle of the night, and sent to the Chicagooffice where he could be monitored, and bribed with more money, and,if necessary, threatened. I knew where he was, and I knew he wouldn'tbe leaving for the next eight to ten hours.From the second level ofthe atrium, with a splendid view of the lake, I phoned Megan.Ruby hadsurvived the night; we were now at forty-eight hours and counting.Icalled Mordecai to report my finding. According to last year's Drake &Sweeney handbook, there were three partners in the real estate sectionof the Chicago office.The building directory in the atrium listed allthree on floor number fifty-one
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