Lawrence Block - The Ehrengraf Riposte

Martin Ehrengraf placed his hands on the top of his exceedingly cluttered desk and looked across it. He was seated, while the man at whom he gazed was standing, and indeed looked incapable of remaining still, let alone seating himself on a chair. He was a large man, tall and quite stout, balding, florid of face, with a hawks-bill nose and a jutting chin. His hair, combed straight back, was a rich and glossy dark-brown; his bushy eyebrows were salted with gray. His suit, while of a particular shade of blue that Ehrengraf would never have chosen for himself, was well tailored and expensive. It was logical to assume that the man within the suit was abundantly supplied with money, an assumption the little lawyer liked to be able to make about all his prospective clients.

Now he said, Wont you take a seat, Mr. Crowe? Youll be more comfortable.

Id rather stand, Ethan Crowe said. Im too much on edge to sit still.

Hmmm. Theres something Ive learned in my practice, Mr. Crowe, and thats the great advantage in acting as if. When Im to defend a client who gives every indication of guilt, I act as if he were indeed innocent. And you know, Mr. Crowe, its astonishing how often the client does in fact prove to be innocent, often to his own surprise.

Martin Ehrengraf flashed a smile that showed on his lips without altering the expression in his eyes. All of which is all-important to me, since I collect a fee only if my client is judged to be innocent. Otherwise I go unpaid. Acting as if, Mr. Crowe, is uncannily helpful, and you might help us both by sitting in that chair and acting as if you were at peace with the world.

Ehrengraf paused, and when Crowe had seated himself he said, You say youve been charged with murder. But homicide is not usually a bailable offense, so how does it happen that you are here in my office instead of locked in a cell?

I havent been charged with murder.

But you said

I said I wanted you to defend me against a homicide charge. But I havent been charged yet.

I see. Whom have you killed? Let me amend that. Whom are you supposed to have killed?

No one.

Oh?

Ethan Crowe thrust his head forward. Ill be charged with the murder of Terence Reginald Mayhew, he said, pronouncing the name with a full measure of loathing. But I havent been charged yet because the rancid scuts not dead yet because I havent killed him yet.

Mr. Mayhew is alive.

Yes.

But you intend to kill him.

Crowe chose his words carefully. I expect to be charged with his murder, he said at length.

And you want to arrange your defense in advance.

Yes.

You show commendable foresight, Ehrengraf said admiringly. He got to his feet and stepped out from behind his desk. He was a muted symphony of brown. His jacket was a brown Harris tweed in a herringbone weave, his slacks were cocoa flannel, his shirt a buttery tan silk, his tie a perfect match for the slacks with a below-the-knot design of fleur-de-lis in silver thread. Ehrengraf hadnt been quite certain about the tie when he bought it but had since decided it was quite all right. On his small feet he wore highly polished seamless tan loafers, unadorned with braids or tassels.

Foresight, he repeated. An unusual quality in a client, Mr. Crowe, and I can only wish that I met with it more frequently. He put the tips of his fingers together and narrowed his eyes. Just what is it you wish from me?

Your efforts on my behalf, of course.

Indeed. Why do you want to kill Mr. Mayhew?

Because hes driving me crazy.

How?

Hes playing tricks on me.

Tricks? What sort of tricks?

Childish tricks, Ethan Crowe said, and averted his eyes. He makes phone calls. He orders things. Last week he called different florists and sent out hundreds of orders of flowers to different women all over the city. Hes managed to get hold of my credit card numbers, and he placed all these orders in my name and billed them to me. I was able to stop some of the orders, but by the time I got wind of what hed done, most of them had already gone out.

Surely you wont have to pay.

It may be easier to pay than to go through the process of avoiding payment. I dont know. But thats just one example. Another time ambulances and limousines kept coming to my house. One after the other. And taxicabs, and I dont know what else. These vehicles kept arriving from various sources and I kept having to send them away.

I see.

And he fills out coupons and orders things C.O.D. for me. I have to cancel the orders and return the products. Hes had me join book clubs and record clubs, hes subscribed me to every sort of magazine, hes put me on every sort of mailing list. Did you know, for example, that theres an outfit called the International Society for the Preservation of Wild Mustangs and Burros?

It so happens Im a member.

Well, Im sure its a worthwhile organization, Crowe said, but the point is Im not interested in wild mustangs and burros, or even tame ones, but Mayhew made me a member and pledged a hundred dollars on my behalf, or maybe it was a thousand dollars, I cant remember.

The exact amount isnt important at the moment, Mr. Crowe.

Hes driving me crazy!

So it would seem. But to kill a man because of some practical jokes

Theres no end to them. He started doing this almost two years ago. At first it was completely maddening because I had no idea what was happening or who was doing this to me. From time to time hell slack off and Ill think hes had his fun and has decided to leave me alone. Then hell start up again.

Have you spoken to him?

I cant. He laughs like the lunatic he is and hangs up on me.

Have you confronted him?

I cant. He lives in an apartment downtown on Chippewa Street. He doesnt let visitors in and never seems to leave the place.

And youve tried the police?

They cant seem to do anything. He just lies to them, denies all responsibility, tells them it must be someone else. A very nice policeman told me the only sensible thing I can do is wait him out. Hell get tired, he assured me, the mans madness will run its course. Hell decide hes had his revenge.

And you tried to do that?

For a while. When it didnt work, I engaged a private detective. He obtained evidence of activities, evidence that will stand up in court. But attorney convinced me not to press charges.

Why, for heavens sake?

The mans a cripple.

Your attorney?

Certainly not. Mayhews a cripple, hes confined to a wheelchair. I suppose thats why he never leaves his squalid little apartment. But my attorney said I could only charge him with malicious mischief, which is not the most serious crime in the book and which sounds rather less serious than it is because it has the connotation of a childs impish prank

Yes.

and there wed be in court, myself a large man in good physical condition and Mayhew a sniveling cripple in a wheelchair, and hed get everyones sympathy and undoubtedly be exonerated of all charges while Id come off as a bully and a laughingstock. I couldnt make charges stand up in criminal court, and if I sued him Id probably lose. And even if I won, what could I possibly collect? The man doesnt have anything to start with.

Ehrengraf nodded thoughtfully. He blames you for crippling him?

I cant imagine why. I had never even heard of him before he started tormenting me, but who knows what a madman might think? He doesnt seem to want anything from me. Ive called him up, asked him what he wanted, and he laughs and hangs up on me.

And so youve decided to kill him.

I havent said that.

Ehrengraf sighed. Were not in court, Mr. Crowe, so that sort of technicalitys not important between us. Youve implied you intend to kill him.