...Or Your Money Back | Page 6

it works."
The technician did as he was told. "Thirteen, Black, Odd, and Low," he
chanted, grinning.
"Let's try another number," Thursby said. He turned the dial to One.
And this time, when he pointed it, his fingers were touching the plates
in the right places.

"Just a minute," I said. "Let me spin that thing."
"Be my guest, counselor," said Thursby.
I spun the wheel and scooted the ball along the rim. It dropped into a
slot. One, Red, Odd, and Low. I looked as disappointed and
apprehensive as I could.
"Co-incidence," I said. "Nothing more. You haven't proved anything."
Thursby's grin widened. "Of course I haven't," he said with a soothing,
patronizing tone. "But I don't have to prove anything until I get to
court."
Then he looked at the technicians and jerked his head toward the door.
"Let's go, boys. Maybe the counselor wants to look over the table for
himself. Maybe he thinks we've got it rigged."
There was a chorus of guffaws as they walked out. I just stood there,
scowling, trying to keep from laughing even harder than they were.
* * * * *
Jason Howley sat next to me at the defense table, just inside the low
partition that divided the court from the public. There weren't many
people in the auditorium itself; listening to some poor dope get himself
sentenced for cheating at gambling is considered pretty dull
entertainment in the State of Nevada.
Thursby had managed to push the indictment through the grand jury in
a hurry, but, as he sat across the room from me at the prosecution table,
I thought I could detect a false note in the assumed look of confidence
that he was trying to wear.
Howley tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and he whispered:
"How much longer?"
I tapped my wrist watch. "Couple minutes. Judge Lapworth is one of
those precisionists. Never a moment late or early. Getting jumpy?"

He shook his head gently and smiled. "No. You've handled this even
better than I'd have imagined. You thought of things I didn't even know
existed. I'm no lawyer; I can see that."
I returned the smile. "And I don't invent gimmicks, either. So what?"
His eyes looked at me from behind the distorting negative lenses. "I've
been wondering, counselor--why are you so interested in this? I mean, I
offered you a pretty good fee, and all that, but it seems to me you're
taking an unusual interest in the case."
I grinned at him. "Mr. Howley, my profession is Law--with a capital L.
The study of the Law isn't like the study of physics or whatever; these
are manmade laws--commands, not descriptions. They don't necessarily
have anything to do with facts at all. Take the word 'insanity,' for
instance; the word isn't even used by head-shrinkers any more because
it's a legal definition that has nothing whatever to do with the condition
of the human mind.
"Now, any such set of laws as that can't possibly be self-consistent and
still have some use on an action level. A lawyer's job is to find the little
inconsistencies in the structure, the places where the pieces have been
jammed together in an effort to make them look like a structured whole.
To find, in other words, the loopholes and use them.
"And when I find a loophole, I like to wring everything I can out of it.
I'm enjoying this."
Howley nodded. "I see. But what if something--"
I held up my hand to silence him, because the door to the judges'
chambers opened at that moment, and Judge Lapworth came in as the
bailiff announced him. We all stood up while the bailiff intoned his
"Oyez, oyez."
Thursby made a short preliminary speech to the jury, and I requested
and was granted permission to hold my own opening statement until
the defense was ready to present its case.

Thursby was looking worried, although it took a trained eye to see it. I
was pretty sure I knew why. He had been pushed too hard and had gone
too fast. He'd managed to slide through the grand jury too easily, and I
had managed to get the trial date set for a week later. Thursby's case
was far from being as tight as he wanted it.
* * * * *
I just sat still while the prosecution brought forth its witnesses and
evidence. The croupier, the deputies, several employees of the Golden
Casino, and a couple of patrons all told their stories. I waived
cross-examination in every case, which made Thursby even edgier than
he had been.
When he called in the head of the technicians who had inspected the
table at the casino, I made no objection to his testimony, but I made my
first