No small coincidence, I imagined, as the proximity to each other likely worked well for reciprocal referrals. Still, I found it strange that he chose to set up shop in this manner. Dominic Spinelli said that Kemper was once a highly regarded up and coming defense attorney. I would have thought he had made a name for himself by now, eliminating the need to represent low-life thugs and dregs from the hood. Carlos and I walked into Kemper’s office, and right away noticed the distinct smell of nail polish and a severe lack of cross-ventilation. A young woman doing her nails at the reception counter looked up at us and smiled nervously. She invited us in, frantically raking a field of cosmetics off her blotter and into the top drawer of her desk. I got the impression she did not get many visitors, as she seemed completely taken aback by our presence, and maybe frightened, too. I pegged her at around twenty-one years of age. I don’t know, maybe her makeup made her look older. Carlos put her closer to eighteen, though just barely.
