Chapter 1 _October 2, 1981, Chicago, Illinois_ {_ I do solemnly swear , that I will support the constitution of the United States and the constitution of the state of Illinois, and that I will faithfully discharge the duties of the office of attorney and counselor at law to the best of my ability. _} With those few words, I passed from law school graduate to being Jared Scott, esquire, attorney at law. "Congratulations, Jared," Ed Hart said warmly. He was managing partner of Hart-Lincoln, a large Chicago law firm that had hired me straight out of Kent College of Law, where I'd received my JD after four years at University of Cincinnati. "Thanks, Mr. Hart," I replied. "It's 'Ed' now that you're an Associate. Shall we head back to the office?" We left the courtroom where I'd been sworn in, and headed back to the North Loop where Hart-Lincoln had their offices. "You're both wanted in the main conference room," Jenny, the drop-dead gorgeous receptionist said as we stepped off he elevator. That was no surprise, as I'd been quietly warned by my mentor for the Bar exam, Nelson Boyd, that there would be a celebration where I'd be asked to speak. I was grateful for the advance warning, as that had given me a bit of time to prepare. The large conference room was filled with lawyers, paralegals, and secretaries, all of whom clapped and cheered as I entered the room. Ed Hart held up is hand for silence, and the room quickly quieted down. "Jared, would you say a few words?" Ed asked. It wasn't _really_ a question, despite being phrased as one. I silently thanked Nelson by making eye contact and nodding slightly. "When I first set foot in Kent, I was overwhelmed, but thanks to a good study group and a strong student mentor, Nick Boyne, I quickly adapted and graduated in the top ten percent of my class. Ed Hart interviewed me, liked what he saw, and hired me as an associate. If I was overwhelmed at Kent, I knew a career at Hart-Lincoln was going to be both challenging and rewarding. I'm grateful you welcomed me as a family, especially Nelson Boyd, who taught me the ropes and mentored me through passing the Bar. I look forward to years of collegial practice, and great success for the firm, and for each of us as individuals. Thanks." There was loud applause, signifying I'd hit the right notes, which was confirmed a moment later by Robert Lincoln, the senior name partner of the firm. "Nice job, Counselor," he said to me, then announced. "Everyone, help yourself to champagne and cake!" While I was drinking my champagne and eating the rich cake, Ed Hart came over to where I was standing with Nelson and a few other young attorneys. "I need you on a case I'm working on," he said. "Come see me in my office at 4:00pm." "I'll be there," I promised. He walked away, and the chit-chat amongst four young lawyers continued, focusing mostly on which secretary each attorney thought was the hottest. My vote, hands down, was for Jenny, the receptionist, with green eyes, black hair, and an amazing figure. "Dangrous," Tom Reynolds said. "Don't even think about it!" "What?" Nelson asked with a sly smile, "lusting after a name partner's daughter is a bad career move?" "A bad _life_ move!" Tom declared. Jenny was Jenny Hart, the daughter of Ed Hart, who had recently turned nineteen and was taking a year off before starting college. There wasn't a single girl that looked like her at Moeller High School. Of course, that might have been because Moeller was all male! Of course, I hadn't met any girls at Mount Notre Dame or Seton, two all female schools in Cincinnati who looked like her, either. But Tom and Nelson were right, she was absolutely off limits. When the party ended, I went back to the small office I shared with Hank Griswold, another first-year Associate who had graduated from Marquette Law in Milwaukee. He'd be taking the Bar in about a month, so most of his time was dedicated to studying, and what was left to writing basic motions on behalf of the partners. Now that I was a newly minted lawyer, I could actually have my own clients, but that likely wouldn't happen for six months to a year, according to Nelson. I had been very lucky to score one of the two open positions on the criminal law side, while Hank was on the civil law side. I'd passed up an offer in the State's Attorney's office because I felt criminal defense was a much higher calling than prosecution, and I really didn't want to deal with politics, though none of us could ever escape politics completely, including office politics. Just before 4:00pm I walked down the long hallway to Ed Hart's spacious corner office which had a perfect view of the Loop and Lake Michigan. His secretary, Mary, sent me right in. "Ready to dive in?" he asked. "I am," I said firmly. "One of our important clients was arrested yesterday in the disappearance of his wife. He made bail last night. I need you to get in touch with the State's Attorney's office and get copies of the indictment as well as the search warrants executed on his house and office. We want the suporting affidavits as well as a list of every item they seized." "Which client?" I asked. "Anthony Taylor," he replied. I'd read about him in the _Tribune_ before I'd left my apartment in Lincoln Park. Taylor owned half-a-dozen clubs in the Chicago area, and the _Trib_ had alluded to ties to the Chicago Outfit. His wife of twenty-one years had disappeared nearly a year ago, in the midst of a contentious divorce, and according to the _Trib_, the police had claimed to have no leads. That was clearly not the case, given they'd arrested our client. "OK. I'll get on the phone with them. Do you know which deputy is handling the case?" "Deputy, hell! We're going up against Cook County State's Attorney Richard M. Daley, son of Mayor Richard J. Daley, last of the big city bosses!" "I'll make the call and prepare the motions for your signature." "You sign them and file them," Ed said. "They're routine, so the State isn't going to contest them, and this will get you some face time with Judge Reinhardt. "Then I'll get right on it! Which paralegal is assigned to the case?" "Tammy," he replied. "Get her the indictment as soon as you hav it so she can research the relevant criminal statutes." "Will do." I left his office and returned to mine, pulled out a yellow legal pad, and began to make notes.