“Oh, yes there is. There’s his confession in your file. And the little matter of his flight to Laos.”
Nina drew a long breath. “Even if he confessed to me, which he didn’t, it would be privileged information, inadmissible in any real court.”
“Strange to hear you say that, when it was your carelessness that allowed it to fall into the public eye, isn’t it?”
“Objection,” Jack said. “Argumentative.”
“Sustained. Let’s move on, Counsel.”
“Isn’t it true that there is no other suspect in connection with that fire and that Mr. Vang admitted to you he caused the fire?”
“Compound,” Jack said.
“Rephrase the question.” It was dizzying. Nolan was cross-examining Nina on direct examination. Nina struggled to get her bearings. She couldn’t anticipate what Nolan would ask next. The suspense in this box made strategic thinking impossible. Every moment, she felt the guillotine blade trembling above.
“Did Mr. Vang admit he caused the fire at the time of the interview?”
“No. No.”
“Did he deny it?”
“In so many words, yes.”
“Isn’t it true that you conspired with the Vangs to put in a fraudulent claim for them, knowing the arson was caused by Mr. Vang?”
“No, that is not true. Why would I put my career in jeopardy by doing something so unethical and criminal?”
“You’re a sole practitioner?”
“Yes.”
“Your income varies sometimes substantially from month to month?”
“Yes.”
“How much did you charge Mr. Vang for this work you did for him?” Nolan held up the exhibit that contained her billing to the Vangs.
“Two thousand four hundred dollars.”
“For writing a letter to the insurance company?”
“The case involved an extensive set of exhibits. I put in numerous hours helping the Vangs collate their receipts.”
“Couldn’t your secretary have done that? Collate receipts?”
“I preferred to do it.”
“Let me see, you were charging forty dollars an hour to collate receipts, so that would be-oh, here it is. Sixty hours. Sixty hours you put in to write this letter?”
“To meet with the clients, to help them assemble their claim, to negotiate, to write the claim letter, to follow up-yes. Sixty hours. In the end, the negotiated claim was for more than two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Isn’t it true that the price for your honor and integrity was two thousand four hundred dollars? That you were willing to commit a fraud for that amount, assuming you could hide behind the attorney-client privilege and no one would ever know your client had told you he did the arson?”
“Objection! Argumentative, compound, misstates the testimony, calls for a conclusion,” Jack said.
“It’s totally untrue,” Nina answered before the judge could rule, but her voice was choked. She could not disregard the cavalcade of feelings coursing through her, no matter how determined she felt. Such a pathetic amount of money it was they figured for the price of her soul. “I’m proud of my profession! I would never…!”
Judge Brock cut her off. “I will sustain the objection. Rephrase, Counsel.”
“That’s all right, Your Honor. I am finished with this witness.”
“Mr. McIntyre?”
“Ms. Reilly,” Jack said. “I just want this to be very clear for the record. Are you positive you never wrote those last nineteen words?”
“Positive.”
“You had no intent to defraud the insurance company, and so far as you know, Mr. Vang did not commit any arson?”
“That’s right.”
“You spent sixty hours working on this claim and obtained a settlement of two hundred and ten thousand dollars for your clients?”
“Yes.”
“Let the record reflect that Ms. Reilly’s fee amounted to one point one percent of the recovery,” Jack said. “I have nothing further of this witness.”
“We will adjourn. Court will resume at three.”
Freed, Nina got out of the box and walked tall back to Jack’s table. Gathering up documents from the other table, Nolan gave her a cynical smile. Jack took Nina by the arm. “Out we go,” he said.
The elevator arrived, jammed with people. Jack pushed forward and stuffed her into an invisible gap.
“How did I do?” she asked Jack as they ate sandwiches across the street.
“You sounded tremulous, but Brock will make allowances for that,” Jack said.
“I didn’t feel scared, Jack, if that’s what you’re thinking. My anger shook me. I had no idea how difficult it would be testifying. I wanted to leap off the stand and land a good one-two on Nolan’s nose. I kept seeing those dumb glasses under my high heels, broken on the floor. I bet her eyes look weak without them.”
“You okay now?”
“Yeah.”
“Chin up.”
After the break, Nolan called Sandy to the stand. She sat down in the box, arranging herself calmly. Dignified and impeccable, she wore her standards, a denim blue skirt and a white blouse, and had spiked her upswept black hair with a turquoise stick. Nina knew she had never testified in court before but wasn’t worried about Sandy. She could take Nolan down with a sneeze.
“So you took the new file that was handed to you and affixed the Client Intake Interview form to the back of the file?” Nolan asked.
“Yes. Like I always do.”
“Did you read the notes?” Judge Brock leaned in closer, wanting to hear the answer to this one.
“Might have,” Sandy said.
“What’s she doing!” Nina whispered. Jack shook his head slightly. They were both astounded. Sandy had told them several times that she had read the notes.
“Might have? Did you or did you not?”
“I might have.”
“You mean you have forgotten whether you read them?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Sandy said. “I’m the only one that does that.”
“Well, what do you mean, ‘might have’?”
“Maybe I did,” Sandy said. “I often did.”
“It was your practice to read the intake notes?”
“I often did.”
Clearly unnerved by Sandy’s attitude, Nolan handed Sandy the exhibit and had her read the notes. “Did you read these before or not?” she demanded. “You must answer to the best of your recollection.”
“I may well have,” Sandy said, nodding her head at the file. “I usually did.”
“Your Honor, I request that this witness be compelled to answer the question.”
“I think she’s doing the best she can,” Brock said. “Ms. Whitefeather, did you have any knowledge from that file or otherwise that Ms. Reilly knew her client had committed an arson?”
“No, sir. If I read these notes at the time, and it was my practice to do that, these last two sentences weren’t there. I do know that. Because I would have talked to her about it if they were. And she never would have filed the claim. Never. She’s one of the honest ones.”
“Request that whole statement be stricken,” Nolan said, glowering.
“She’s honest,” Sandy said again. “Unlike some I have known.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question,” Judge Brock said. “Sorry, Counsel. But her answer stands.”
25
A T LAST, A break.
Nina got into the elevator for the sixth floor with Jack with her head high and her self-confidence at an all-time low. Her entire life had been served up on a plate to prejudiced critics who made their livings feeding off the failures of their colleagues. Gayle Nolan didn’t hide her intolerance or feign objectivity. She hadn’t been acting; she felt disdain for Nina. Contempt, even! Nina’s colleague, who didn’t respect her, who even wanted to see her on her knees!
Although Judge Brock was less overt, she had a definite impression that her very presence in his courtroom embarrassed him, as if, in his view, only the worst lawyers fell this far down the system. He lumped her in with the dregs.
And Jack, standing beside her, humming a little tune? What did she want from him at this low point? Reassurance that she was a good person, this was what she wanted. But Jack gave her what she herself gave her clients: objectivity, strategy, a push forward. He assessed her like he assessed steak in the market. He had other worries besides her emotional well-being.
She felt like running right out those doors onto Howard Street, getting into her truck, and driving-where? She would never again look at a stricken client’s face without remembering this day.
Assuming she ever had a client again.
Their turn had come. With Kao Vang unavailable in the hills of Laos, they had only two witnesses for the defense on the Vang count, Mrs. Vang, who wouldn’t be arriving until later, and the handwriting expert, Lyuba Gleb, who was waiting for them as they came out of the elevator.
“Hello, there,” she said, shaking hands with Jack. “How is it going?”
