the same bewitching phenomenon.
Jennie asked, 'Did Jason ever learn the truth about your injury?'
'No. We… I kept it from him. I thought… a child… a son.. . should not have to bear such a terrible truth. Don't you think that's so?'
Jennie glanced at me, pointed at Margaret's glass, and I got her another refill. I was tempted to tell Margaret that whatever her intentions, she had made a serious, even fatal miscalculation. In truth, she had made many mistakes, starting with her marriage, but mistakes compound, and some are worse than others, and cumulatively they become a disaster. Had the boy understood his father's barbaric nature, he might have learned to despise, rather than admire and obey, the beast dominating his life.
In fact, the hour was very late, and I was tired and becoming increasingly impatient to learn exactly what had triggered Jason's rage-but Jennie continued her pursuit, methodically and patiently Margaret's marriage to Calhoun had been a carnival of smoke and broken mirrors, and I was sure she had entertained strong visceral feelings, but she had never intellectualized or verbalized the causes and effects to others, or probably even to herself. Or perhaps she had, but with only the knowledge of how it had destroyed her life. Now she knew how it had destroyed her child's also, and she needed to rationalize the adjusted causes and effects.
For the next few minutes, alternating between a whispery intensity and hurt chokes and sobs, she detailed how Calhoun had estranged her from Jason, isolating him and isolating her. Daddy taught his boy to admire strength; Mommy was crippled, Mommy was weak, Mommy deserved contempt. Also, Mommy was physically incapable of caring for and protecting him, magnifying Jason's emotional enslavement to his father and his alienation from his mother. It struck me that young Jason might also have felt a sense of betrayal. Margaret had failed in nearly every sense, both practical and emotional, to be his mother, and a child is concerned not with cause but with effect.
Even I could understand that no child would emerge from such a malevolent and viciously manipulated environment healthy in mind, conscience, and soul. Jason's head was probably a shopping cart of pathologies, Oedipal guilts, and sexual confusion. No wonder the guy wasn't married yet. But Margaret finally paused to catch a breath, and Jennie, the good cop, asked her, 'Another sherry?'
'Uh… if you'd be so kind.'
Jennie handed me Margaret's glass. Being the bad cop carries its heavy burdens. I felt really bad about getting a witness liquored up and loose-lipped, but in murder investigations you do what works. As I got up, Jennie suggested to Margaret, 'Now I think it's time to figure out what happened, why Jason has taken the course he's on.'
Margaret thought a moment, then said, 'I think… I suppose, his father.'
'This was somehow related to the firm your husband and Phillip Fineberg started?'
'Oh… I believe most certainly it was.'
'Can you explain what happened?'
Margaret waited for me to bring her the refill, then started, 'As I mentioned, the fit between Calhoun and Phillip was never good or particularly healthy. Theirs was a partnership of convenience, at best. I think that with success and wealth, they needed each other less and disliked each other more.'
'That's how it usually works,' Jennie commented.
'Actually, I think Calhoun and Phillip were consummately jealous of each other.' She paused for a moment before she added, 'They grew to really hate one another.'
'How long were they together?'
'Fifteen years. The last four or five were misery for them both. Calhoun complained viciously about Phillip. And I knew Phillip thoroughly despised Calhoun as well. And of course, by the seventies, the opportunities in this city toward Jews had changed greatly. Phillip knew it, and so did Calhoun.'
'Was there a blow-up?'
'Oh, nothing so reckless. They were both smart men, and quite greedy. They knew to manage their situation discreetly. Richmond is a small city, after all. They would invite unwanted scrutiny, and their legal competitors would have eaten them alive.' She paused a moment, then said, 'Phillip finally ended it.'
'How?'
'In a most interesting manner. One day, he just never came back to work.'
'He… what? He just quit?'
'In a manner of speaking. He accepted a position at Yale Law, teaching, I think, tort law. Calhoun learned afterward that, behind his back, Phillip had discussed partnerships with several of those large northern firms. That proved to be fruitless. Phillip's lack of courtroom experience completely disqualified him, and he wasn't willing to again start at the bottom. In the end, I'm sure he concluded, teaching was the only respectable escape. The pay was stingy, but with the money he had made at the firm, he could live quite comfortably.'
'And he of course blamed this on Calhoun.'
'Well, I'm sure he did.' She nodded. 'Rightly so, I suppose. Though I also think Phillip would have been a miserable litigator. The man was gifted with a gloriously brilliant mind-but had no tact or charm, or even the ability to manufacture charm, the trick Calhoun so readily mastered. To be frank, both were disgustingly arrogant men, but Calhoun could hide it.'
I suggested, 'But there's more, isn't there?'
'Between those two, there was always more, Mr. Drummond.' She sipped from her sherry and said, 'Do you believe that these two very smart lawyers failed to create an agreement for what would happen in the event their firm dissolved? Both men kept all their money invested in the firm, withdrawing what was needed for their personal expenses, and left the remainder sheltered from taxes. This was another of Phillip's brilliant ideas. Don't you find that ironic?'
She looked at Jennie and me to be sure we understood. 'So Calhoun simply decided to keep all the money.'
'And how did Phillip respond?' Jennie asked.
'In the way all lawyers respond.'
'He sued.'
'With great outrage. The matter was handled in a claims court here. Phillip represented himself, which was, I think, very naive on his part. But as I said, he had a very large ego, and I think he had always felt he could do better than Calhoun in court, if only given the chance. Of course, Calhoun tore him apart. He showed that Phillip had never taken a case to court and described him as nothing but a glorified clerk.'
I commented, 'That's why they always say lawyers should never represent themselves.'
But she wasn't interested in my insights; she looked at Jennie and said, 'Afterward, Phillip swore Calhoun had arranged to have the case handled by a judge he was friendly with. He also insisted that Calhoun had blocked him from getting access to the firm's records, and the founding document Calhoun showed the court had been doctored to indicate Phillip was never a full partner.'
'He got nothing?' I asked.
'Oh… not nothing, Mr. Drummond. He asked for four million. He walked away with thirty thousand.'
'And about the judge being a friend of Calhoun's-was he?'
'Well… I don't know that they were friends, exactly. They attended the same private school together, and were members of the same country club, and the same church.' With a bemused half-smile she concluded, 'I suppose they were… acquainted.'
Jennie asked, 'And what was Fineberg's response?'
'As a civil case, there was no appeal. But anyway, I think he concluded the game was rigged against him in this city. He left bitter, and we never heard from him again.'
'And the firm?'
'For about six months, Calhoun tried going it alone. But without its legal mastermind, he began to lose large cases, and-'
'And he arranged a judgeship,' I said.
'Yes, Mr. Drummond. And frankly, it better suited his natural talents and temperament. It was said that he ran the tightest courtroom in the Commonwealth. My husband worshipped law and order, as you might imagine. Felons did not get mercy before his bar.'
'I'll bet' In fact, it was all beginning to make sense. But we needed to move this along, and I said, 'So the
