It was God’s will. We were created in His image to enjoy marvelous physical pleasure. My calling is to teach the children as many of those pleasures as possible. God demands this of me. I’ve done nothing wrong.

Thanks very much, Zack, and God bless you.” He hung up. God bless? That ship has sailed.

Jennifer Tracey, a former client, called to discuss a case involving her two sons. Jennifer Tracey? Do I know her? Probably another crap case—teenage drunks? I'll call her tomorrow.

Tracy v. Bartholomew was a tough, David v. Goliath type case.

He seems perfect for us. One room on Eight Mile? Quite a fall. Probably needs fast money. We can use that to our advantage and accommodate him.

The renaissance of Zack Blake at Renaissance Center, what a story! Maybe Mitch Albom will write a column.

He’d use the Tracey money to open a small RenCen office, stand in the lobby, and direct his competitors’ lost clients to his office rather than theirs. There’s no loyalty in this business anyway. Lawyers were a dime a dozen. Look how easily his asshole ex-partners were able to convince his clients to stay with them.

. . . You’re wasting my time. I think a jury will love this story.” Zack rose and began to leave. Please, God, stop me before I get to the door! “Hold on, Zack,” Walsh pleaded, turning to and conferring with the mystery man.Thank you, God!

What happened in his life to turn him into a depraved and callous individual? Did he become a priest because it afforded him fertile ground for young conquests? These questions might be answered during the upcoming criminal and civil trials.