Con Law Part 8

Ten minutes later, they stood at the front desk of the El Paisano Hotel. The lobby of the Spanish baroque, pueblo-deco style hotel featured leather chairs and ottomans, colorful Mexican tiled floors, exposed wood beams, and- 'OMG,' Nadine said. 'Is that a buffalo head on the wall?'

'And a longhorn.' Book turned to the desk clerk. 'Just one night.'

Nadine dug her cell phone out of her canvas bag and took a photo of the stuffed heads.

'No one back home will believe this.'

'Your name?' the clerk said.

'John Bookman.'

The clerk broke into a big smile. 'Professor Bookman, welcome to the Paisano. We were expecting you.'

'You were?'

'Your secretary-Myrna?-she called ahead and made reservations for you and Miss Honeywell. I have some messages for you.'

The clerk disappeared behind the counter.

'Where's the nearest Starbucks?' Nadine asked. 'I'm dying for caffeine.'

The clerk reappeared and said, 'No Starbucks in Marfa.'

Nadine stared as if the clerk had said, 'No oxygen in Marfa.'

'You're joking?'

The clerk shrugged at her then handed three message slips to Book: Myrna, his sister, and James Welch. Nadine shook off her Starbucks shock and held her phone up as if trying to gauge the wind in the lobby.

'Why can't I get through?'

'Cell phone service,' the clerk said, 'it's a bit sketchy out here.'

Nadine responded with the same look of utter disbelief.

'No Starbucks or texting-are we still in America?'

'You're still in Texas.'

The clerk handed room keys to Book.

'Professor, you're in the Rock Hudson suite, and Miss Honeywell is in the Elizabeth Taylor suite. Rooms two-eleven and two-twelve.'

'Great, now we're sleeping in dead people's beds,' she said.

'They were alive when they slept here. Let's wash up and get some lunch, figure out where we go from here.'

'Home.'

'Enjoy the art,' the desk clerk said.

Book carried their gear up the flight of stairs-there was no elevator-and down the corridor to their rooms.

James Dean practiced rope tricks in the courtyard of the El Paisano Hotel. Rock Hudson and Elizabeth Taylor partied with the cast and crew in the dining room. Director George Stevens reviewed the 'dailies' in the ballroom each evening; locals were welcome. And they came. For six weeks in the summer of 1955, Hollywood lived in the Paisano, and Marfa was Cinderella at the ball.

But the ball ended, Hollywood went home, and Marfa was left to its old life. The town and the hotel began a steady slide. By 2001, Marfa was the county seat of the poorest county in Texas, and the Paisano was sold at a tax foreclosure auction on the steps of the Presidio County Courthouse. No one imagined that day that there would be a Hollywood ending for both the town and the hotel. But there was-but not because of Hollywood.

Because of art.

Book deposited Nadine in Elizabeth Taylor's room then went next door to his room. Rock Hudson had been comfortable: living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and private rooftop balcony. Book dropped his bag then looked for the room phone. There wasn't one. So he dialed Myrna on his cell then stepped out onto the balcony. Myrna's voice soon came over, a bit scratchy but audible.

'You made it to Marfa safely?'

The mother in Myrna.

'We did.'

'How's Nadine?'

'Homesick. How'd you know we'd stay at the Paisano?'

'Nadine didn't seem like the camping-out type, not with all that hand sanitizer. When are you coming back?'

'Tomorrow, probably. You remember Nathan Jones? He interned for me four years back?'

'Of course I remember Nathan. He saved my job.' She thought that was funny. 'Why?'

'He wrote me that letter, asking for help.'

'Are you going to help him?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'He's dead.'

Book called his sister next. Joanie was thirty-one and a new mother. He had given her away at her wedding three years before to a doctor named Dennis. Book's new brother-in-law had advised them to put their mother in a home. But what the h.e.l.l did he know about Alzheimer's? He was a proctologist.

'Book, we've got to talk about putting Mom in a home.'

'No.'

'I know you don't want to, but-'

'She didn't put us in a home. She went back to work after Dad died.'

Clare Bookman had kept the books and paid the bills for a dozen small businesses in Austin; now she couldn't balance her own checkbook.

'And Dad sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't have put her in a home.'

Alzheimer's had made his mother a stranger in her own body. In her own house. To her own children. She would not have wanted to live like that. But it was too late for her to make that choice. The disease had made the choice for her. When the time came for Book, he would make the choice before the disease made it for him.

'Book, she doesn't even know who we are anymore.'

'We know who she is.'

'Book-'

'Joanie-that's not going to happen. She can live with me.'

'And all your sleep-over girlfriends?'

'They won't sleep over anymore.'

'And how will you take her anywhere? On the back of that Harley?'

'I'll buy a car.'

'What would you buy that's fast enough and dangerous enough?'

'A minivan.'

She laughed. He liked Joanie's laugh.

'Indiana Jones in a minivan? I don't think so. Besides, Book, you're always gone. Like now.'

'I'll hire around-the-clock caregivers.'

'That's expensive.'

'Can you say "book royalties"?'

'I thought that was going to be your retirement fund?'

From the rooftop balcony two stories up, Book could see all of Marfa and the desert beyond. The prairie gra.s.s gleamed yellow in the sun.

'I don't figure on living to retirement age.'

'Oh, Book, don't talk like that. Just because Mom ... that doesn't mean ...' She sighed into the phone. 'What are you doing in Marfa?'

'Working.'

'Another adventure?'

'A dead lawyer.'

His last call was to James Welch, chairman of the Board of Regents for the University of Texas System, a nonprofit organization possessing a $21 billion endowment, numerous real-estate developments, two million acres of prime oil land, stakes in a world-cla.s.s golf club, a radio station and a cable TV sports channel, the most expensive and profitable football team in America, and fifteen universities and medical schools throughout Texas educating over two hundred thousand students. The University of Texas at Austin is the flags.h.i.+p campus. James Welch had earned an MBA from UT thirty-three years before; today, he boasted a $3 billion net worth. He was the most powerful man in higher education in Texas.

'Professor Bookman, thanks for calling me back.'

'Sorry for the delay, Mr. Welch. I had to leave town unexpectedly.'

'Your secretary said you were in Marfa. The wife and I went out there a few years back. She wanted to see the art. Boxes and crushed cars and fluorescent lights-I didn't get it.'

He exhaled.

'Well, as you may have heard, Professor, my son, Robert, was arrested for drug possession with intent to distribute. They took his blood without his consent.'

'What was he doing when the police arrested him?'

'Leaning against his car parked on Sixth Street. Cop came along and arrested him.'

'He didn't say or do anything to the police officer?'

'Knowing Bobby, he probably smarted off. Never been one to keep his mouth shut. Like his mother. But how can they do that, take his blood without his consent? Is that const.i.tutional?'

The definition of a liberal: a conservative who had been arrested.

'Good question. No answer as yet. So they arrested your son, searched his car, and found drugs?'

'Cocaine.'

'How much?'

'The police report says a pound.'

'That's more than recreational.'

'Bobby's not a drug dealer, Professor. He's a user. And he's going into rehab at the Betty Ford Clinic, if he gets out of jail. And the case is dismissed. And his record expunged.'

'Mr. Welch, you should hire an experienced criminal defense lawyer.'

'I did. Scotty Raines. He said the search and seizure was illegal, no probable cause to search his Beemer or take a blood sample. He suggested I hire you.'

'Why?'

'Because if Scotty says the search and seizure was illegal, the judge will still hold a trial. But you're a famous const.i.tutional law expert. If you say the search and seizure was illegal, the judge will dismiss the case.'

'You want me to write a brief?'

'And argue the issue in court, if necessary. I'm prepared to pay you handsomely.'

'You don't think your status is enough to'-Book wanted to say, 'Get him off, 'but didn't-'remedy this situation?'

'In Dallas, sure. But this is Austin, not exactly a hotbed of Republicans. The D.A. is a Democrat. I'm a big Republican donor in Texas, and I supported the D.A.'s opponent in the last election.'

'Whoops.'