Five Keys From the Orient

It would be dawn any minute now. Nicholas McGuire tightened the lace of his running shoe, stood up and stamped his foot to insure a comfortable fit. He turned off the light and closing the door to his apartment, bounded down the stairs from the fourth floor to the ground level. Opening the door to the street, he looked both ways before stepping out. It was cold and the early morning chill brought goose bumps to his bare legs. The occasional car still had its headlights on. He would need his running gloves and nodded his head in silent affirmation of his sound judgment. Setting a fast pace, he judged the indistinct forms in front of him as early-to- work citizens on their way to the office no threat to his safety. Approaching the Art Museum and the tree-lined East River Drive, he picked up the pace waving, silently to slower moving joggers. Muted lights shone from the various houses along Boat House Row as the first rays of the rising sun reflected back from the Schuykill River.

By the Strawberry Mansion Bridge he hit his stride. As he exhaled, a faint cloud of condensation preceded him. His legs felt strong and his breathing still even. The crowd of joggers thinned out as he passed the empty reviewing stand at the Kelly Memorial. The sun over the horizon now sparkled on the river. Still moving easily he crossed the river at the Falls of the Schuykill Bridge, he turned south onto the West River Drive. Crossing under the railroad bridge he warily approached four youths moving slowly in the same direction. As he was going by them and moving away without incident, he recalled the recent news article about a college track star being waylaid only last week. Once again he brought to mind in painful detail the fateful events of his recent past.

Alexis McCardle, was blonde, beautiful, intelligent - everything he ever wanted in a woman. He could hardly believe that she was really going to marry him. She had never given him the time of day when they were in Penn Law School together. But then again, she had to fight off the advances of practically every male in the school. She seemed to have it all. That is, until the accident.

Driving home from an office party, she had gotton lost. The neighborhood became more and more dangerous. Just as she finally found a familiar street, a youth suddenly appeared in front of her car. She jammed on the brakes, but it was too late. Tyrone Sanders died instantly. It turned out he was a thirteen - year old boy, apparently beloved by all. Alexis was devastated. She immediately called the police on her car phone. A crowd quickly assembled. People came from everywhere.

Tyrone's mother cradled the head of her dead son in her lap and shouted at Alexis. "You will pay for this! You hear me!"

"But it was an accident," Alexis protested.

But his mother did not believe her. As it turned out, neither did the rest of the eyewitnesses, police or even her own lawyer. Alexis' uncle, John McCardle, was a senior partner in one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. It also just so happened to be where Nicholas McGuire had gotten his first job fresh out of law school. John McCardle hand-picked Vincent Poggio to handle the case. Vincent Poggio also happened to be Nicholas' supervisor. They were to interview their new client together.