Chapter 23
Deposition
They all looked at me across the conference table with solemn faces. It was time for me to try to pick them up, but I didn't know if I could. It seemed no matter how hard they tried to make things right, the situation only got worse. Don and Pam were on the verge of self-destruction and none of us seemed to know how to stop it.
"I am so sorry all of this is happening to you." I said. "I wish I could do more to relieve your pain. There's just no simple solution for all of your problems."
"I know you are doing all you can, Stan," Don said.
The court reporter walked in and started setting up at the head of the table. We watched in silence as a video camera was placed across from the witnesses chair. Jodie brought in coffee and refreshments and set them on a small table. She asked if anyone needed anything and then left.
After another long moment of silence Jodie brought in Mr. Schultz and Dr. Windsor's young widow. When everyone had been introduced, the court reporter asked for the correct spelling of everyone's name.
"All right, I guess everybody's ready, huh?" I asked.
"Yes, I believe so," Schultz replied.
"Okay, do you want to go with Jennifer first?"
"Yes, that would be fine."
"Jennifer, if you'll sit across from the court reporter we'll get started," I said, turning to Schultz. "The usual agreements--reserve objections until the time of trial except the form of the question and responsiveness?" I asked.
Attorneys in Texas usually agreed to waive objections to the time of trial in order to expedite the taking of the deposition. If the deposition was taken subject to the rules of evidence, it could take days to complete and if disputes arose there would be no judge available to settle them. There would then have to be a hearing and possibly another session to complete the deposition.
"Okay," Schultz replied and then began his questioning of the witness. "Please state your name for the record?"
"Jennifer Blaylock."
"Blaylock? I'm sorry I thought it was Rich?
"It was, I was recently married to Mr. Blaylock's son, Rob."
Oh, I see. Where are you residing?"
"The same address. Rob moved into my mom's house."
Schultz questioned Jennifer for some time about her birth, childhood, family, schools and driving record. Then he got to the night of the incident and time they spent partying at the warehouse. He wanted to know how many drinks she'd had before taking the wheel of Rob's car. She claimed to have only had one beer at Jennifer's house an another at the warehouse.
Schultz plodded along asking detailed questions about the events up and including Rob's arrest. Then he turned to the moment she took the wheel of the Mustang GT.
"Okay, so after the police left with Rob and his friend, what did you do?
"We started driving home."
"What route did you take?"
"We went south on Central Expressway to I-30 and then went toward Mesquite . . . ah . . . east I guess that would be."
"How fast were you going?"
"I don't remember. I was just going along with the flow of traffic."
"Do you know what the speed limit was?
"Ah . . . well, I presume it was 55 mph."
"You presume, but you don't know for sure?"
"I wouldn't swear to what it was . . . but I'm pretty sure it was 55 mph."
"So you went along with the flow of traffic, right?"
"Yes."
"So, if the traffic was going 55 mph then you would have been going 55 mph."
"Right."
"And, if the traffic had been going 75 mph, you would have been going 75 mph."
"I don't think I was going 75 mph."
"Why did you veer into the left lane in front of Dr. Windsor's car?"
"Because suddenly, out of nowhere, there was a red convertible in front of me. It must've come up the on-ramp. I came up on it so fast I had to turn to avoid hitting it."
"So you took your eyes off the road for a minute?"
"Not a minute. Just a second or two."
"So you took your eyes off the road for a second or two and when you looked back at the road in front of you there was a red convertible which you were about to hit?"
"Exactly. There was nothing else to do but to swerve to the left to avoid the collision."
"Did you look to your left before you swerved?"
"No, there wasn't time."
"Did you look in your rear view mirror or side mirror to see if anyone was in the lane next to you?"
"No, I told you there was no time."
"So without looking or even considering the consequences of swerving into the left lane you did it anyway?"
"I didn't have time. I told you, I didn't have time!"
"And what happened when you swerved into the left lane without regard to who or what was there?"
"I hit his . . . I hit the doctor's car."
"And he died as a result of your carelessness, isn't that right Ms. Blaylock?"
Mr. Turner. Objection. Calls for a legal conclusion. I'm instructing the witness not to answer the question."
At the conclusion of Jennifer's deposition I took Don, Rob and Jennifer to lunch at Carelli's. Jennifer was very happy to have her deposition over and was feeling pretty good. Don, on the other hand, looked a little pale.
"So Mr. Turner, I hope I didn't hurt our case," Jennifer said.
"No, you did okay. I don't think there's much else you could have said. The facts are the facts. Unfortunately, we don't know who was driving the convertible. That's the person who ought to be paying for Dr. Windsor's death."
"How do you think it looks, Stan?" Don asked.
"Well, without proof of the red convertible, it doesn't look too good . . . for Jennifer anyway. As for you, they've got a tough burden to prove you were negligent and responsible for Jennifer getting into the accident."
"What happens if they get a judgment against Jennifer?" Rob asked.
"Well, you kids don't have anything so it will be a worthless piece of paper. This is Texas, where you can own a house and considerable personal property and no creditor can touch it. All they can do is abstract the judgment and hope sometime you'll be foolish enough to buy some non-exempt real estate in Dallas County where the judgment would be filed."
"That wouldn't ever happen," Don laughed.
"True, they're really after you, Don. You know we might be able to put an end to this whole thing right now if you'll give me permission to tell them a little lie?" I said.
"Tell them a lie?"
"I know you and Pam would never file bankruptcy. You've both made that perfectly clear but--"
"But what?"
"Well, they don't know that. If I just lay the cards on the table they might pack their bags and go home."
Don looked at me and frowned. "Pam would never go for it. She'd kill me if I let you represent to someone that we were going to file bankruptcy."
I took a deep breath and replied, "Well if I don't actually say you're going to file bankruptcy would it be okay? If I just implied it?"
Don raised his eyebrows and replied, "I guess it can't hurt. Just be sure you don't say we're going to file. If she ever thought I had allowed you to say that, she'd kill me."
"Don't worry, I won't." I smiled at Rob and Jennifer and said, "You two okay with this?"
Rob looked at Jennifer and she nodded affirmatively. Rob shrugged and said, "I guess pride is not important at a time like this."
"No, it's not. The important thing is to get this thing over with so you all can go on with your lives."
After lunch I asked to have a private conference with Mr. Schultz. I took him into my office and closed the door.
"Okay, Bob. Do you mind if I call you Bob?"
"No, that's fine."
"You and I both know litiga
tion is expensive," I said. "God knows how much you've already spent prosecuting this case. Now for some reason the insurance company saw fit to deposit three hundred grand into the registry of the court. I don't know why they did it. Frankly, I don't think your case is that good."
"They must have thought it was pretty good," Schultz replied.
"Apparently they did, and it's done. There's nothing I can do about it. I know you and your client are feeling pretty good right now. You're on a roll and you'd like to get what . . . another two or three hundred thousand? I don't think you're naive enough to think you're going to get $2.5 million."
"You never know."
"True, but I just wanted to point out a few things to you. There are a few facts you probably don't know, but you need to know, to properly analyze your position here. . . . Jennifer Blaylock is just a kid. She's pregnant and may never get a high school diploma. She has no money. Her mother is divorced and is barely surviving. If you go ahead with this lawsuit I'm going to slap her into bankruptcy so fast your judgment won't be worth much more than the envelope it comes in."
Schultz shook his head and smiled, "You think I'm stupid or something? Why do you think we sued the owner of the car?"
"Exactly. I understood your thinking. . . . Don Blaylock is a successful businessman. He's got some assets you can get to. You probably think he's good for the two or three hundred thousand dollars, right? . . . Ha!" I laughed. "I'm afraid not."
I looked to my left, gazing out the window for a moment and then continued, "This would ordinarily be attorney-client privileged information, but my client very reluctantly has authorized me to tell you this."
I turned around and looked Schultz in the eye. . . . "He's broke! Flat ass broke! You've probably heard about Luther Bell's murder, right?"
"Yes, I've read about it in the newspaper."
"Well, he got Mr. Blaylock into a franchise deal that went sour. Don's lost everything. Between the IRS, the comptroller, and the bank there ain't nothin' left. So, if you get a judgment against him, guess what?"
Schultz frowned and replied, "Bankruptcy. . . . I get the picture."
I nodded. "So, as I see it right now your firm has made out like a bandit. You've got . . . what . . . fifty hours in this case so far? Let me see, your one-third is one hundred thousand dollars divided by fifty . . . ah, $2,000 an hour. Wow! Don't you love this profession?"
"We've actually got over sixty hours in the case."
"But if you continue this case, before you know it you'll have what--two, three hundred hours? Oh . . . and those expert witness fees, investigators, court reporters . . . Jesus! How much do you think they will run? How do you think your client will like paying all those expenses?"
Schultz got up and walked over to the window and stared at the cars traveling down Central Expressway.
"Oh," I continued. "I forgot. Don's a prime suspect in the Luther Bell murder."
Schultz turned and stared at me.
"Well, I just mean he may be in prison. You're not going to be able to collect anything from him if he's in prison, are you?"
Schultz shook his head, "Okay. . . . You made your point. I need to talk to my client."
"Please do. I think it would be a very wise thing to do."
After a brief discussion with his client, Schultz indicated they would settle for what had been tendered. We shook hands and they left. I called everyone in and gave them the good news. "Well, it's over. They're going to accept the $300,000 as a complete and final settlement of the case. Our little deception worked like a charm."
"You didn't tell him we were going to file bankruptcy, did you?" Don asked.
"No, I told him you were the prime suspect in Luther Bell's murder. You should have seen his face."
Don thought for moment and then burst out laughing. "That's right . . . I am damn good with a tire iron."
Feeling a little better with one more problem resolved, I went home early and took the family out to dinner. It was Thursday, our bowling night, so we headed over to Triangle Bowling alley when we were done. Reggi, Mark, and I were in a church league. None of us were great bowlers, but we always had a lot of fun. Rebekah usually came with Peter and Marcia to watch. In between turns, I brainstormed with Rebekah about Luther's murder.
"I just can't see a man repeatedly hitting Luther the way the killer did. Luther's murder had the mark of a woman. It was a crime of passion or fear, or both.
"So, who do you think did it?" Rebekah asked.
"Well, the obvious list includes Pam, Wanda, Margie and Laura Bell.
"Dad, you're up," Reggie said. I looked over at him and smiled. "Okay, I'm coming."
After retrieving my ball, I took center stage. All eyes were on me. Having never taken bowling lessons, I was a straight shooter. This meant even if I hit the pocket I still was likely to leave a couple pins and if I missed the pocket and hit the first pin, I'd get a split. My unprofessional approach to resolving this problem was to get way over to one side or the other and try to hit the pocket at an angle. Sometimes this would work but more often than not, it wouldn't. I took a deep breath, took a few strides toward the pins, and let it go. The ball went straight for the pocket. All the pins scattered except one which stood like a rock in a raging surf.
"Damn," I moaned.
"It's okay, Dad. You'll get the spare," Reggie said.
"You don't think Pam did it, do you?" Rebekah asked.
"I don't know. She seems extremely traumatized by all that's been happening. I wouldn't be shocked if it turned out she did do it. I hope she didn't, but--"
"I know she didn't do it. I know her. It wouldn't even cross her mind. . . . But if it had been me . . . yes, I would have definitely killed the bastard!"
I didn't laugh. She was telling the truth. Rebekah would have had no tolerance for someone messing with her life the way Luther had done. Although generally sweet and kind, if you threatened her family she'd become your worst enemy and your worst nightmare.
Few people knew this about Rebekah as this dark part of her personality rarely surfaced, but I knew it only too well. I still wondered if she had killed Sheila Logan, the lonely wife of one of my clients who had lured me into a cabin for sensual pleasures. Nothing happened, but it might have, had I not knocked over a kerosene lamp and set the cabin ablaze. Later that night, after being in a car wreck and ending up in the emergency ward at the hospital where Rebekah was working, Sheila mysteriously died. When I had pressed Rebekah on the issue after the murder charges against her were dropped, she refused to flatly deny killing Sheila. She just shrugged and gave me a wry smile.
"I'm going to focus on Margie and Laura," I said. "They are the most likely ones to have killed him."
"What about Wanda?" Rebekah asked.
"I can't see Wanda doing it. She is so quiet, gentle, and loving. It would be totally out of character."
Rebekah raised her eyebrows. "It's the quiet ones you have to watch out for."
I laughed. "Right, I know."
Cash Call, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 5 Page 23
