The Mayor of Lexington Avenue Read Online Free Page A

often the press reported the murder but not the aftermath. If a suspect was discovered early on, the story might continue for a while. But the only surefire way to keep the press on the story was with a trial. They loved trials the way normal people loved sex and they were teaching the public to love them too. Clay desperately wanted that publicity.
    Clay Evans IV was a WASP—a fifth generation, blue-blooded Florida WASP. Great granddaddy had once been the governor. His own father had been a state senator from Cobb County and eventually secretary of state for Florida. There had been money once too—citrus groves as far as the eye could see. But granddaddy, the weak link in the family line, had sold all the land at a bad time and squandered most of the money, leaving behind just the blue blood and the arrogance. Clay’s poor father, the Third, had been forced by circumstance to go to work for a living.
    The Fourth followed daddy’s footsteps to the University of Florida and eventually to law school. He wasn’t a good student, spending most of his time golfing and partying, and would never have made it into the law school on his own merits, but there were qualifications and there were qualifications: Great granddaddy, the governor, had been a three-sport man at Florida and had attended the law school. So had daddy and he was personal friends with the president of the university and the present governor.
    Clay attacked law school with the same laissez-faire attitude he had displayed as an undergraduate. When he had occupied his seat for three years he was given a law degree and finally, after three failed attempts, he managed to pass the bar.
    Despite his loathsome resumé, Clay still had assets that attracted many of the big firms in Florida. He had his father’s height and thick brown hair and an easy manner about him and, most important, he had a pedigree that granted him access to the halls of power in Tallahassee. When the offers came in, Clay weighed them carefully, reassured that life was going to continue to be good.
    He chose the Miami firm of Eppley, Marsch & Maloney simply because he knew that Miami was a fun place to live and play. Unfortunately, reality was about to set in for the Fourth. Everyone at Eppley, Marsch was required to put in seventy- to eighty-hour work weeks and the competition among the associates was fierce. It didn’t take the Fourth long to realize that life in the big firm was not for him. So he called Dad.
    “Can’t you get me an appointment to something?” he whined to the Third. “I can’t do this anymore.”
    “I’ll see what I can do,” the Third replied. Two weeks later, he called back.
    “The Cobb County state attorney is retiring. I think I can secure the appointment for you.”
    “What do they have, five attorneys over there? I’d be lost in oblivion. Can’t you get me something a little bit better than that?” At that moment, the Third wished that he had taken the time and the effort years before to throttle his son. He thought to remind the boy that he was being offered a state attorney’s position having never tried a case, but he knew that logic would never work with the Fourth. So he stuck with manipulation.
    “It’s a stepping-stone, son. You probably don’t remember, but I was once the Cobb County state attorney. Stay in the job a couple of years—fill in your resumé, so to speak—and I’ll find something for you after that. The governor’s a good friend of mine and if he’s reelected, which is likely, he’ll be in office for six more years.”
    It was a winning argument. Clay took the appointment and was soon running an office that specialized in speeding tickets, petty theft and every so often a grand larceny or two. Something happened, however, that neither the Third nor the Fourth had planned on. Governor Hal Bishop was caught cheating on his wife and was voted out of office after his first term. He was replaced by a Republican who couldn’t stand