The court probably had appointed the majority of Charlie's clients, indigents up for petty crimes and misdemeanors. Nevertheless, the court would pay for every hour Hardy's associates spent on the criminal cases anyway, and if the civil cases made any money, the firm could expect reasonable compensation. And it was, again, an opportunity to do a small good deed for a judge, and that was never a bad idea.

"You could probably get them all assigned out or closed in the next couple of months."

"I'm sold, Your Honor. I'd be happy to help you out."

"Thanks, Diz. I appreciate it. I know it's not very sexy. I'll have it all delivered to your office within the week."

"How much stuff is it?"

Thomasino paused. "About sixty boxes." In other words, a lot. "But here's the silver lining. It's only half as much as it appears, since half the boxes are one client."

"Tell me it's Microsoft."

A soft chuckle. "No such luck. It's Evan Scholler."

"Why is that name familiar?"

"Because you've read all about it. The two guys who'd been over in Iraq together?"

"Ah, it comes flooding back," Hardy said. "They had the same girlfriend or something, too, didn't they?"

"I believe so. There's a bunch of juicy stuff, but you'll find that out soon enough, I guess. But in any event, Diz, I really appreciate you doing this."

"I live to serve the court, Your Honor."

"You're already up on points, Counselor. Don't lay it on too thick. Have a nice night."

Hardy hung up and stood for a moment, musing. The judge's line played back in his mind: "There's a bunch of juicy stuff" in the Scholler case. Hardy thought he could use some juicy stuff in his life about now. If his memory served, and it always did, Scholler's situation was even more compelling than the bare bones of the murder case, because of its genesis in chaos and violence.