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That hen she had met Roarke

The computer hu couple His background was no prettier than the cop’s had been But he’d chosen, at least initially, the other side of the law to make his mark And his fortune

Now they were a set A set that could be destroyed on a whim

But not yet Not for some little time yet

After all, the gaun

chapter five

“I just don’t buy it,” Eve h She studied his bold, striking face as it flashed onto her monitor, shook her head “I just don’t buy it,” she repeated

She scanned his date and place of birth, saw that he’d been born in Philadelphia during the last decade of the previous century He’d been married to a Milicent Barrows from 2033 to 2036 Divorced, no children

He’d moved to New York the same year as his divorce, established his criminal law practice, and as far as she could see, had never looked back

“Annual income,” she requested

Subject Fitzhugh, annual income for last tax year Two million, seven hundred USD

“Bloodsucker,” she murmured “Computer, list and detail any arrests”

Searching No police record on file

“Okay, so he’s clean How about this? List all civil suits filed against subject”

She got a hit on that, a short list of names, and she ordered a hard copy She requested a list of cases Fitzhugh had lost over the last ten years, noted the nah It was typical litigation of the era Your lawyer doesn’t get you off, you sue the lawyer It gave another jab to her hopeful theory of blackmail