Read Online The Elizabethan Secret (Lang Reilly Series Book 9) by Gregg Loomis - Free Book Online Page A

performing plastic surgery with a switch blade on those members of his harem whom he believed to be withholding part of their earnings. Lang had had bad feelings the instant a well-meaning if overly optimistic magistrate had granted his perfunctory motion for bail. Not only ungrateful for his freedom, albeit temporary, the pimp was convinced Lang could have gotten a lower bond set.
                  The matter had terminated with the client, somewhat worse for the wear, being hauled off to Grady Hospital in handcuffs with additional charges of assault with a deadly weapon added to those already pending.
                  Lang was allowed to withdraw as the man’s counsel.
                  Thereafter, Lang limited his practice to so-called “white collar” criminals, those who used trickery, usually electronic, rather than violence to steal from their victims. At least twice, he had defended public servants accused of using their positions for personal profit rather than the public good. One, Atlanta’s mayor, had gone to prison on tax-evasion charges after being acquitted on multiple bribery counts. The other, the city school superintendent, had walked away from charges of having some thirty-five teachers, assistant teachers, administrators, and principals change test scores over a period of nearly a decade. Her motivation had been the large bonus specified in her contract if she could lift Atlanta public schools’ abysmal national CRCT scores significantly.
                  A large part of Lang’s business came from other lawyers, attorneys whose practice did not include criminal defense. It had taken a few years for Lang to realize how many clients of silk-stocking firms needed his services.
                  He was terminating a conversation with an acquaintance, a partner in a two-hundred-plus-lawyer firm with offices in a dozen cities and four countries.
                  “Fred, I don’t think I can help you. Insider trading is pretty specialized. I’d think you guys are big enough to have someone who does SEC work.”
                  “Yeah, I know the Securities and Exchange Commission doesn’t do criminal prosecutions but they do the Justice Department’s investigations.”
                  Lang strongly suspected the big, high prestige firms simply didn’t want their names connected to criminal cases. At the same time, they didn’t want to abandon lucrative clients who, if acquitted, might continue to send them business.
                  Eating one’s cake and having it too?
                  How would one put the old saw into Latin, he wondered, as the voice on the other end droned on. Nec platena consmere . . . 
                  Fred signed off with a pleasantry. No doubt the conversation was taking more time than he could bill.
                  The door to his office opened. Sara stood there, an apology on her face as two men brushed by her.
                  “I’m sorry, Lang. I tried . . .”
                  The two were as near twins as a pair could get without having the same parents. Identical hair cuts, one gray suit, one blue, matching cordovan lace-ups polished to near spit shine.
                  Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee.
                  Lang stood. “In case your momma never told you, busting into a room without knocking is considered rude. Also, I see people by appointment. Now, do you leave or do I call the cops to throw you out?”
                  The two smirked at each other and produced wallets in unison as though choreographed. Each bore a photograph and was clearly some form of official ID.
                  “Office of Naval Intelligence,” the one on the right said.
                  Why did Lang have the feeling the other man would have said the same thing had he not