Chapter 21: Deja Vu, but Not

What I intended to do had many difficulties. For starters, I was dressed to meet with high priced lawyers. For another, I was not about to expose Shadow to the south side. Most important, I was not about to expose Elspeth to Veronica, or vice versa.

To solve two problems at once, I told Elspeth to take Shadow to the garage and return with the Toyota. She did not want to go and I was not prepared to be frank with her. Rather than fight it, I decided to buy a car. I had been wanting another work car for some time. This seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Before we did that, Elspeth and I refitted me in an off-the-rack suit. I kept the silk top. It would look like an indulgence. A cheap briefcase and resale shop heels completed the step-down. Looking in the mirror, I could see that Dr. Richards was still there. That said, a level was missing. It looked fairly good, but I could tell why it was second rate. I had learned a thing or two.

Next we went to the neighborhood used car lots. This was where an in-house mechanic was handy. He could listen to an engine and tell me the sticker price was bogus. It took about three cars before I could convince the salesman to give me a real price. In this, the term "cash sale" was magic. Even then it took some looking. To make a long afternoon short, I bought a 10-year-old Infiniti with 110,000 miles for $7200, including TT&L.

Since I could not convince Elspeth to leave me, I gave her a job. I asked her to go set up a face to face meeting with Adele Cabot. Elspeth understood I was getting her out of the way, but she allowed it. I think the idea of Boston's South Side scared her more than she would admit. Regardless, she and I parted at six PM, with plans to meet at ten. I hoped I could make it.

As soon as Elspeth was out of sight, I headed to a resale shop two blocks away. This was not my old neighborhood, but it was close enough I knew the major points. There, I bought an outfit—men's khaki slacks, golf shirt and, most importantly, a worn leather jacket. It was not quite my old ratty jeans and torn T-shirt, but there was a kissing relationship. The biggest differences were the heels and the posture.

To accessorize, I bought rings and hoops, to make my piercings more obvious, a bandanna for my hair and a dump-it-all-in purse. There would be no safety pins, but they would not have looked much out of place. This time, the mirror told me that I was crazy, but marginally prepared.

The meeting was at McCreedy's. This was exactly what the name implies, an Irish-oriented Southie bar. I mentioned before that Veronica came across as Irish. I am Irish. It seemed a reasonable way to get her out of the old dives. Sure enough, when I came through the door, she had three guys draped all over her. I sang the line, "You can call me anything you like, but my name is Veronica."

Roni's head jerked around. At first, she could not spot me, but my height gave me away. She said, "Oh my God. Jo, I heard you looked different, but I had no idea. Guys, this is Jo Richards."

This was an Irish bar, so I said, "It's Siobhan if you can say it correctly. Roni, I have an actual car outside. Who do I talk to about keeping an eye on it?" We took a few minutes to get my new ride settled. Veronica noted the dealer plates. I told her about the Toyota and the Honda before it.

She asked about student loans. I told her not to worry. My time at Yale was covered by family money and scholarships, while my time at Dartmouth was on fellowship. I don't think Veronica ever appreciated how good I was at school, but no student loans got her attention. Interesting.

Eventually, we settled in a booth, with drinks. I ordered Irish, with water back. I was drinking the water, but Roni was killing vodka martinis. She had slipped during my three years away. Still, I could use an edge, so I kept paying for more rounds.

My target was named Ariana Conor. She was leading a group of tenants in a lease renewal protest. I completely understood her point. The landlord wanted them to vacate so that he could raze the whole building. There was an episode of Cheers which was almost on point. Cliff tried to stay in his apartment, because he was there with his mother for so long. In the end, he recognizes it was a dump.

As with many other things, much of the protest ran through Veronica's hands, because she had experience dealing with the city and state authorities. One of my old associates at legal aide was backing up their lead attorney. My briefing from Morgan–Brown–Campo & Lynch had omitted that detail.

What I told Veronica was that MBC&L were hoping to settle quickly. This was not the sort of case they wanted to burn time pursuing. While that would mean fewer billing hours in the short term, it was worth a fair amount of goodwill with the client. There is a reason that some lawsuits are referred to as nuisance cases. Once she made up her mind to help, Roni had Ms. Conor on the phone in five minutes.

Thirty minutes later, three of us pulled in front of a much seedier bar on Boylston street. Veronica and I went inside. The third in our party was an aspiring hockey player, who would make fifty bucks looking after my "new" car. I had only had the car about four hours, but I was already attached. The heated seats and steering wheel would be perfect for New Hampshire.

We were barely in the door when someone called to Veronica. It was not Ariana Conor, but it made her easy to spot. I stayed by the door, while Roni talked to her. I could only read half the conversation.

Veronica said something. Ariana Conor snapped, "I don't give a fuck. Who's that with you and when is the rich bitch coming?

"Bullshit. That girl has bull dyke written all over her. She paid more for the shoes than the whole outfit she's wearing. I wonder if the nipples are pierced.

"No shit. She's wearing a bra now. And a stick up her ass. Did she walk around with a book on her head as a little girl? Seriously, who the fuck is she?

"Yeah, fine. She wants to pay for a round, her money spends. It ain't buyin' nothin' else. I ain't that easy and I sure the fuck ain't that cheap." I was beginning to like this girl.

Roni signaled me to come over. Instead of going straight, I went to the bar and laid a hundred down. I told the barkeep I wanted Irish with water back and a couple rounds for the table. We exchanged a look, then he shrugged and took the money. I took my drink to the table. Showtime.