“Yeah.”
“All right. So what happened next?”
“Well, he-I think he got paranoid or something that someonewas listening-”
“Objection.” Roger Ogren is on his feet. “Foundation. Moveto strike.”
The judge turns to Richard Cook. “Young man, you’ll need tolimit what you tell us to what you heard or what you observed. Okay?”
“Okay.” The witness shrinks a bit on the stand.
“The answer will be stricken. Mr. McGaffrey?”
“Richard,” says McGaffrey, “tell us what you observed, orheard, after you heard Sam Dillon finish by saying, ‘Just take the Fifth, ifyou’re so worried.’ ”
“Well, it was like all quiet for a minute. Then Mr. Dilloncame out his door.”
“What did he do?”
“He stared at me for a minute. Then he asked me what I wasdoing.”
“What did you say?”
“I said I was filing.”
“And then?”
“Then he closed his door pretty hard. He seemed mad that Iwas out there.”
“And what did you do, after hearing all this, Richard? Didyou talk to anyone?”
“I talked to my dad later that night.”
“And did anything result from that?”
“Well, not until Mr. Dillon was dead. Then my dad and I werethinking that it might have been important, what I heard. So we told the cops.”
“Thank you, son. Your witness, Mr. Ogren.”
Roger Ogren stands and buttons his coat. He is younger, andnot as heavy, as his opposing counsel. Ogren does not have a wedding band onhis finger, and Allison makes the assumption that he never has. He seems thetype who lives for his work, especially this work.
“My name is Roger Ogren, Richard.” The prosecutor glances ata pad of notes on the lectern. “You and I have spoken before, haven’t we?”
The witness leans in to the microphone. “Yes.”
“Okay. Richard, that phone conversation you were describing?You don’t know to whom Mr. Dillon was speaking, do you?”
“No.”
No one will ever know to whom Sam Dillon was talking. Sam,and others in his office, made and received several calls from the statecapital that afternoon. The phone records did not identify the particular phonelines used from the offices of Dillon amp; Becker, nor did the phone recordsat the capital help much. Based on the approximate timing of the calls, theycould have been made to any number of politicians or lobbyists or clients,either at the capital or in the city.
But yes, there had been a phone call from Flanagan-Maxx thatday, a little after four in the afternoon. The problem is, no one can tieRichard Cook down to a particular time-he can’t say four o’clock ortwo-thirty-so no one can conclusively say that the conversation Richardoverheard was between Sam and Walter Benjamin.
“You don’t know what Sam Dillon and this other person weretalking about, do you?”
“No.”
The prosecutor taps on the lectern. “Mr. Dillon was alawyer, wasn’t he?”
“Umm-yeah, I guess so.”
“He advised clients on issues.”
“You mean like going to the capital and stuff?”
“I mean,” says Ogren, “like giving advice to clients.Whether it concerns legislation or other stuff. Mr. Dillon was a lawyer whogave advice to clients.”
“I–I guess so. You mean a lawyer like you are? Like, trialsand stuff?”
Roger Ogren squirms a moment. He’s supposed to be asking thequestions. “You don’t know if he was or wasn’t, is that what you’re saying?”
“Yeah. I know he’s a lobbyist. Other stuff, I don’t know.”
“And it’s possible that this is exactly what Mr. Dillon wasdoing on the phone, right? It’s possible that he was on the phone with aclient, discussing something the client had done wrong. He was telling theperson on the other end to take the fifth, not himself. Right?”
Richard Cook does not appear to have an agenda here, andAllison can’t imagine why he would. He readily concedes the point. He didn’tknow who Sam Dillon was talking to or what they were discussing.
“Thanks, Richard. No more questions.” Roger Ogren takes hisseat triumphantly.
“No redirect,” says Ron McGaffrey. “But at this time wewould submit into evidence, by stipulation, a subpoena for the decedent, SamuelDillon, to appear before the federal grand jury in the Operation Public Trustinvestigation.”
“It will be admitted,” says the judge.
“And if I could simply note, Your Honor, that the date Mr.Dillon was scheduled to appear was Wednesday, February eleventh, which meansthat Mr. Dillon was found dead only three days before he was scheduled totestify.”
“Duly noted, Counsel,” says the judge, smirking.
ONE DAY EARLIER…
Do you date immature men?” Sam asked. Not the first timethey had met-she had met Sam Dillon on two occasions over the last few years.But this was the first time she had been available. This was afterThanksgiving, last year, after the veto session had been completed.
I always have in the past, she wanted to answer but didn’t.It was odd enough that Sam was a colleague of Mat’s, a fellow lobbyist. Shedidn’t need to refer to her ex-husband. That could break the sensation. Orwould it? Might it add an element of danger? Intrigue?
“I haven’t dated in twenty-one years,” she answered,referring to Mat anyway. It was unavoidable. Somehow she didn’t care, and shefelt a breath of liberation in not caring. An even greater lift because the manstanding before her at the reception didn’t seem to be conflicted, either.
“I could see where it might be awkward,” he said.
She could see that Sam was tipsy. The end of session, eventhe small veto session, usually prompted small parties, and Sam’s firm hadplanned this event as a holiday party. Allison had only arrived about an hourago, on Jessica’s invitation, but Sam and some of the others had clearly gottenan earlier start.
“Because my daughter works for you?” she asked.
Sam demurred. Shook his scotch, let the ice clink againstthe glass. His suit was a soft brown, over a crisply ironed shirt, bright redtie. He looked like a lobbyist but he didn’t look-what was the word? — slick. Hadan ease about him.
Allison glanced over Sam’s shoulder at Jessica, who wasstanding among other interns her age, laughing at a joke.
“Jessica’s very talented,” Sam said, avoiding the subject asAllison had, in a way. She felt a wave of disappointment, wondered if thesubject had been forever changed.
Sam followed her eyes, turned his head, then returned toAllison without looking at her. He raised his glass to his mouth as he began toutter the words.
“It’s probably not-”
She cut him off with her own words, surprising herself. Theycame out without warning, something she had never experienced before. She wouldhave to get used to “firsts” again.
