"Pollution of public waterways, vandalism of city property. Evading a police officer."

Gladden's eyebrows went up in a questioning look. Delpy smiled at him.

"You forget something," she said. "The trash can you threw into Santa Monica Bay." She nodded in victory and turned off the tape recorder.

In the holding cell of the police station Gladden was allowed to make his call. When he held the receiver to his ear he smelled the industrial-strength soap they had given him to wash the ink off his fingers. It served as a reminder to him that he had to get out before the prints went through the national computer. He dialed a number that he had committed to memory the first night he had made it to the coast. Krasner was on the network list.

At first the lawyer's secretary was going to put him off but Gladden said to tell Mr. Krasner that the caller was referred by Mr. Pederson, the name suggested on the network bulletin board. Krasner came on the line quickly after that.

"Yes, this is Arthur Krasner, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Krasner, my name is Harold Brisbane and I have a problem."

Gladden then proceeded to tell Krasner in detail what had happened to him. He spoke low into the phone because he was not alone. There were two other men in the holding cell, waiting to be transferred to the county jail at Biscailuz Center. One was lying on the floor asleep, an addict on the nod. The other was sitting on the opposite side of the cell but he was watching Gladden and attempting to listen to him because there was nothing else to do. Gladden thought he might be a plant, a cop posing as a prisoner so he could eavesdrop on his call to the lawyer.

Gladden left nothing out save for his real name. When he was done Krasner was silent for a long time.

"What's that noise?" he finally asked.

"Guy sleeping on the floor in here. Snoring."

"Harold, you shouldn't be amongst people like that," Krasner lamented in a patronizing tone Gladden disliked. "We've got to do something."

"That's why I'm calling."

"My fee for my work on this today and tomorrow will be one thousand dollars. That is a generous discount. I offer it to those referrals I receive from… Mr. Pederson. If my involvement goes further than tomorrow, then we'll have to discuss it. Will it be a problem for you to have the money?"

"No, no problem."

"What about bail? After my fee, what can you do on bail? It sounds like pledging property is out of the question. Bondsmen need ten percent of the bail fixed by the judge. That amount is their fee. You won't get it back."

"Yes, forget property. After taking care of your exorbitant fee I can probably go up to five more. That's immediately. I can get more but it might be difficult. I want to keep it to five max and I want to get out as soon as possible."

Krasner ignored the remark about his fee.

"Is that five thousand?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. Five thousand. What can you do with it?"

Gladden figured Krasner was probably kicking himself over discounting his inflated fee.

"Okay, that means you can handle fifty thousand bail. I think we're in good shape. It's a felony arrest for now. But the fleeing and the pollution are wobblers, meaning they can be filed as either felonies or misdemeanors. I am sure that they will go low on them. It's a bullshit case trumped up by the cops. We just have to get you into court and out on bail."

"Yes."

"I think fifty thousand will be high for this matter but it will be part of the horse trading I do with the filing deputy. We'll see how it goes. I take it you do not want to provide an address."

"That's correct. I need a new one."

"Then we might have to go the whole fifty. But in the meantime I will see about an address. There may be additional expenses incurred from that. It won't be much. I can prom-"

"Fine. Just do it."

Gladden looked back at the man on the other side of the cell.

"What about tonight?" he asked quietly. "I told you, these cops are going to try to get me hurt."

"I think they are bluffing but-"

"That's easy for you to-"

"But I am not taking any chances. Hear me out, Mr. Brisbane. I can't get you out tonight but I am going to make some calls. You will be okay. I am going to get you in there with a K-9 jacket."

"What's that?"

"It's keep-away status in the jail. It's usually reserved for informants or high-power cases. I'll make a call to the jail and inform them that you are an informant in a federal investigation out of Washington."

"Won't they check?"

"Yes, but it will be too late today. They'll put you in a K-9 jacket and by the time they find out tomorrow it's bogus, you'll be in court and then hopefully free after that."

"That's a nice scam, Krasner."

"Yes, but I won't be able to use it again, I think I may have to raise the fee we just discussed a bit to cover the loss."

"Fuck that. Look, this is the deal. I have access to six grand max. You get me out and whatever's left after the bondsman, you get. It's an incentive deal."

"That's a deal. Now, one other thing. You also mentioned the need to beat the prints. I need to have an idea about this. So that in clear conscience I will not make any statements before the court that will-"

"I have a history, if that is what you're asking. But I don't think you and I have to go into that."

"I understand."

"When will my arraignment be?"

"Late morning. When I make my calls to the jail after we hang up, I'll see to it you are scheduled for the early bus to Santa Monica. It's better to wait in the court hold than Biscailuz."

"I wouldn't know. My first time here."

"Uh, Mr. Brisbane, I need to bring up my fee and the bail money again. I'm afraid I'll need that in my possession before I go into court tomorrow."

"You have a wire account?"

"Yes."

"Give me the number. I'll have it wired in the morning. Will I be able to dial long distance in K-9?"

"No. You'll have to call my office. I'll tell Judy to expect the call. She'll then dial the number you give her on the other line and cross-connect you. It will be no problem. I've done it this way before."

Krasner gave him his wire account number and Gladden used the memorizing technique Horace had taught him to commit it to memory.

"Mr. Krasner, you would be doing yourself a great favor if you destroy the wire records of this transaction and simply carry the fee as paid in cash on your accounts."

"I understand. Anything else on your mind?"

"Yes. You better put something on the PTL net, tell the others what happened, tell them to stay away from that carousel."

"Will do."

After he hung up, Gladden turned his back to the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He avoided looking at the man across the room. He noticed the snoring had stopped and guessed that maybe the man on the floor might be dead. OD'd. Then the man stirred slightly. For a moment Gladden considered reaching down and pulling the plastic bracelet off the man and replacing it with his own. He'd probably be released in the morning without the cost of a lawyer and $50,000 bail.

It was too risky, he decided. The man sitting across the cell might be a cop and, besides, the one on the floor might be a multiple repeat offender. You never knew when a judge was going to say enough was enough. Gladden decided to take his chances with Krasner. After all, he'd gotten his name off the network board. The lawyer must know what he was doing. Still, the six thousand bothered him. He was being extorted by the judicial system. Six thousand for what? What had he done wrong?

His hand went to his pocket for a cigarette but then he remembered they had been taken away. That brought the anger down on him even heavier. And the self-pity. He was being persecuted by society and for what? His instincts and desires were not of his choosing. Why couldn't they understand that?