Criminal Law

Jefferson

I cut the stuff down to ten percent or so. Two thirds aspirin should be enough. As Johnny drops me off in front of the gray metal facade of Ellison Whitney's building, I notice the daylight begin to fade, the sun inching lower on the horizon. The orange-backlit button gives way and I ascend quickly to the twenty-seventh floor. The second I reach my level I hear Ellison barking at some maintenance worker. Walking towards his office I pull the ironically but inconspicuously gift-wrapped box out of my redwell folder. "... and if you ever fucking nick my desk again I'll have you not just fired, but deported!" I hear him finish. Raul has the good sense not to mention his legal citizenship. I peek my head through the incongruously rich mahogany door into the steel-gray, near colorless office as Raul turns to scurry from the heat lamp-esque gaze of Mr. Ellison. "What now Alec?" he rumbles. "I got the shit you asked for." I say, watching him try to remember what I was talking about. I hand him the box. "Really fucking funny Alec. Gift wrapping? Really?" He says under his breath. "Why are there four in here? I asked for three." I'm actually shocked he remembered. I was going to just tell him and then take mine out. "Oh yeah, one of those is mine. Hand me one." I say, absently rolling a Walgreens receipt. I open it, pour out a line on my folder, and snort away. Time to get the fuck out of here.