His eyes registered puzzlement. ‘Why, Patrick McNabb. And a few of the officers are fans of Torn, while a few more enjoyed Legality when I was on it.’ He grinned a smug grin and affected a confidential tone. ‘They’re on the bubble for cancellation, you know. Ratings plummeted when I left.’ The fact that he’d been fired from the show after his trial for murder had morphed in Patrick’s mind into his leaving voluntarily in favor of his current program. ‘So I was able to gain entry when I told them I had hired you to represent Cynthia here.’
Have you ever felt like the walls were closing in around you? Here I was in a place built for the express purpose of keeping unwilling occupants inside, and the point was being driven home by a delusional actor. ‘Nobody has been hired to represent Cynthia,’ I said slowly. ‘I am here just to assess the situation, maybe get you through night court and hope for arraignment, Cynthia, and then I will recommend a criminal attorney if one is needed for the rest of the way. And I’m pretty sure you will need an experienced criminal attorney.’
The whole proceeding was going so well that I’d completely given up on asking Patrick exactly why he was made up like someone’s weird idea of Harpo Marx if he were a waiter at a cheap café on the Left Bank.
He shook his head. ‘Nonsense. You handled my case beautifully and you were a prosecutor for years. You are the experienced criminal attorney, Sandy. You really must work on your problem with self-esteem.’
I didn’t have a problem with self-esteem. I mean, I do have a problem with self-esteem, but it wasn’t the issue in this case at this moment. I felt my teeth clench. My whole purpose here was to convince Patrick, and by extension Cynthia, that she should hire someone else specifically because I didn’t want to be a criminal attorney anymore, or else I’d be back home in New Jersey where nobody killed anyone else with a TeeVee award.
This case was a loser, and that wasn’t something I wanted any part of right now. My job at Seaton, Taylor was just getting its legs under it, I’d started making a small reputation as a family law attorney and I’d already been roped into one criminal case I didn’t want. So it wasn’t just because I was being petty; it was that I would be a bad fit for Cynthia’s interests going forward.
And let’s be real, this case was going forward. The prosecutor in me could just feel the excitement in such a slam dunk. I mean, the victim’s adversarial daughter-in-law, in the process of a contested divorce against the victim’s son, a television actress discovered in the room next to the body holding the murder weapon, which just happened to be her award for being a television actress? A gibbon in a tailored suit could try this case to a victory.
‘Cynthia,’ I said. Going through Patrick, who thought I was Oliver Wendall Holmes, was a losing proposition. ‘Listen to me. Patrick is sweet and I did help him get acquitted, but he had the advantage of not having killed his wife and we got lucky in a number of key elements. I’m not the best lawyer for your case. I can recommend better ones and you can afford them. So please, let me find out if there’s a night court we can apply to for release on your own recognizance and then you can move on with a new lawyer, OK?’
Cynthia Sutton must have been a very good actress. I’d never seen any of her films or her HBO series, but I was convinced she was very skilled at her profession. Because she sat there, looked up at me slowly, widened her eyes just a little (don’t want to overplay it) and said, in a husky voice, ‘Please.’
And that is how I became Cynthia’s criminal attorney.
ELEVEN
I got Cynthia through a hastily arranged arraignment at night court, and although the deputy DA assigned at the last minute gave it her best, the judge decided Cynthia was not a great flight risk and allowed her release pending trial. I very carefully laid out the rules of the situation, noted that Cynthia would have to wear an ankle monitor and technically be placed under ‘house arrest’, although she would be allowed to travel back and forth to work and to conferences with her lawyer, who unfortunately was me, until her trial began, which would probably be a matter of months. I dropped her off at her house and arranged for her car, which was much newer and more expensive than my rejuvenated Hyundai, to be brought to her home in the morning.
Patrick offered to follow me back to my apartment to ‘plot strategy’, but I demurred, saying that strategy was something I preferred to plot on my own, which wasn’t true. The fact is I just wanted to eat some Thai food and go to bed, which is what I did. Angie cleaned up.
The next morning I was in my office with Holiday Wentworth asking for help.
‘You know, we did offer you the chance to head up a criminal law division in the firm,’ Holly reminded me. ‘If you want to take on cases and cut back on the family stuff …’
‘That’s exactly what I don’t want to do,’ I said. ‘I backed myself into a corner on Forsythe but the Sutton case was foisted upon me by our most frequent client.’
Holly smiled. ‘Patrick McNabb.’ I’ve seen many women smile like that when Patrick’s name comes up. It makes me worry that I look like that when I talk about him, then I remember it’s Patrick and that seems unlikely. He’s a good man and a friend, of sorts, but Patrick doesn’t make me go all moony in my eyes. I’m pretty sure. I’d ask Angie, but she’d lie.
‘Yes. And in order to keep Patrick happy I have to defend Cynthia Sutton, who appears to be a friend of his. But that’s it. After Sutton, no more criminal cases, Holly. I promise.’
Holly smiled on the right side of her mouth. She was so chic it was hard to tell, but I’d known her a while now. She was being California sarcastic. It’s different from New Jersey sarcastic in that it’s not California’s national language and therefore practiced less frequently, less loudly and less effectively. It’s not their fault; they just have never experienced the real thing. Like bagels.
‘So what do you need?’ Holly said. I reported directly to Holly, who reported to the partners, of whom she was the most junior. When I required assistance, Holly was the one I’d ask, and she had never not come through. Holly and I never socialized, but in the office she was undoubtedly my closest friend.
‘I could use a full-time assistant, an actual attorney who can be second chair, on the Sutton case,’ I began. ‘We know from past experience that’s going to be a publicity bear and there will be tons of witnesses. I’ll need at least one investigator on that case, too. The cops found Cynthia holding the murder weapon and they’ve pretty much closed the case on the basis of that alone.’
Holly frowned. ‘What do you think?’
‘About what?’
She leaned on the edge of my desk. ‘Do you think Cynthia Sutton killed her mother-in-law with a TeeVee award?’
I had given this considerable thought overnight, and after serious consultation with Angie (who had announced that she had a follow-up interview for the mysterious assistant job today or probably would have insisted on coming to work with me) I had an answer ready. ‘No. I don’t,’ I said.
Holly narrowed her eyes a bit. ‘Really. Why not? I mean, from all you’ve told me it seems like those two women detested each other.’
‘They did, no question,’ I agreed. ‘But the one thing on this earth that Cynthia Sutton would never have used as a weapon is her best actress award. She would kill her mother-in-law with anything else at all, but not that.’
Holly smiled. ‘I doubt you’ll be able to use that in court,’ she said.
I shook my head. ‘That’s why I need the investigator and a second chair.’
‘I don’t see why those will be a problem,’ Holly said. ‘I’ll approve it and you should just proceed as if it’s policy. You worked with Nate Garrigan on Patrick McNabb’s case. Do you have any objection to going with him again?’
‘No, he’d be great. But I’ll need a different second chair this time.’ Holly and I shared a smile. The person who had been assigned to help me in court on Patrick’s case no longer worked at Seaton, Taylor and let’s leave it at that.
Holly nodded
. ‘I’ll see who we have. This is going to be fairly long term. I’ll assign someone who has a fairly low caseload right now. Maybe Jon Irvin.’
Jon was good. ‘Thanks.’
She stood up. ‘Things will be different this time, Sandy. You let me know what you need and you’ll get it, as long as it’s within reason.’ She turned and walked out of my office just as Patrick McNabb, nodding to the adoring staff as he walked through the office, arrived in my doorway.
‘Patrick.’ My voice reflected a little more of the weariness in my head than I wanted it to. ‘I promise you I’ll let you know when there are developments in Cynthia’s case. Immediately after I let Cynthia know. OK? I have to prepare for all my other cases. So I don’t have tons of time to talk right now.’
‘Oh, I completely understand,’ said Patrick. Then he walked in and sat down in the client chair I have in front of my desk. ‘You work so hard, love, and I think you need to have all the information on this case. I can be of help to you.’
No, Patrick, please. You can’t be of help to me. Go back to work, pretend to be a guy with multiple personalities who solves crimes. Don’t try to help me. We both know how that works out. Well, I know, anyway.
I found what I thought was a more diplomatic way of saying that. ‘I appreciate the offer, but try and see it from my perspective, Patrick. Cynthia’s court date is likely to be at least four months from now. Probably more. I have a number of other cases, most of them in family court, and they will all be in the courtroom before Cynthia. So you can see how I might have to concentrate on those first, right?’
‘Of course.’ I waited, but Patrick did not stand up. He was being reasonable, but I knew he wouldn’t be placated unless it looked as if I was doing something that he wanted me to do. ‘Will you be using the same investigator who worked on my trial?’ he asked.
‘As a matter of fact, I think we will,’ I said. ‘You remember Nate Garrigan.’ What he probably didn’t remember was how Nate had wanted to kill Patrick on any number of occasions for interfering in his work and jeopardizing our case. And our case was meant to keep Patrick out of jail. It was an interesting conundrum, really.
‘I do.’ Patrick was nodding enthusiastically. ‘He was brilliant. So he’s looking into Cynthia’s problem right now?’
Where was this going? ‘Not exactly right now, no. I was just given the clearance to get his help on the case before you walked in, so I haven’t had time to contact him yet.’
The thing about Patrick McNabb’s attention was that, when it was on you, it was on nothing else. The man could focus like no one I had ever met before. But right now his glance was darting around the room, taking in whatever details he thought were relevant or could help him in his work. Of course, now Patrick was no longer playing an attorney on television so I was spared the endless questions about procedure and my inner thoughts and his asking if he could ‘use’ anything I happened to do in the course of trying to get him acquitted. So his curiosity about my office, a place he’d been a number of times before, was a little baffling.
‘You haven’t, eh? Was I keeping you from doing that?’ So that’s what this was about; Patrick wanted to see me getting Nate Garrigan on the phone to start his work. That would make him feel like Cynthia’s case was proceeding in the right direction. And passive aggressive though it was, I felt that calling Nate right now would solve a lot of problems for me, not the least of which was getting Patrick to go home, or back to the soundstage.
‘It wasn’t your fault at all,’ I answered, ‘but I can certainly get the ball rolling with Nate.’
‘The sooner the better, before the trail goes cold, don’t you think?’ Patrick’s accent was always a bit more pronounced when he was excited. I thought because he so often had to adopt an ‘American’ accent for work he became more British when he was simply being himself.
I didn’t answer him but picked up the phone and dialed Nate Garrigan’s number.
‘I was wondering when I’d hear from you.’ Nate doesn’t only observe Caller ID. He also knows exactly when to be smug without crossing the line to obnoxious. ‘I saw the headline about the actress offing her mother-in-law with a TeeVee and immediately thought of you. This is right up your alley, isn’t it?’
‘You’re hilarious, Nate,’ I said. ‘Are you thinking of dropping in at the Comedy Store this week, because I’d want to make sure I was there to heckle.’
‘OK, you’re right.’ Nate actually sounded a little regretful, worried that he’d offended me. ‘So what are you calling about?’
‘The actress offing her mother-in-law with a TeeVee,’ I admitted.
To his credit, Nate didn’t break into triumphant laughter. Too much. After the moment passed he asked, ‘What do we have to work with?’
‘Not a lot. Cynthia Sutton had motive because she was divorcing Wendy Bryan’s son and thought that Wendy had a hand in breaking up her marriage.’
‘Kinky,’ Nate said.
Patrick was looking like a third-grader who wanted the teacher to acknowledge him so he could ask to use the restroom. He was a millisecond short of raising his hand.
‘Not like that,’ I told Nate. ‘Wendy just didn’t like Cynthia for some reason and apparently has an undue amount of influence with her son.’
By now Patrick could not contain himself any longer. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Might I speak to Mr Garrigan for a moment?’
Now, I had been down this road before and knew it led to madness. I pretended not to hear Patrick, knowing it would only exacerbate his behavior but that it would buy me the few scant seconds I needed to set up the situation for Nate. ‘She was sitting in the next room holding the murder weapon in her hand and barely communicating with the cops,’ I told him.
‘Sandy,’ Patrick said. It wasn’t within his spectrum of experience to be ignored, or at least hadn’t been for the past few years. Young Patrick Dunwoody, who had come to Hollywood after having a few minor roles in British films and a recurring guest spot on an Australian TV series, was accustomed to a lack of attention. Patrick McNabb, star of Legality and Torn, hadn’t been out of the spotlight for more than a bathroom break this decade.
I held up a hand to indicate I’d let him speak shortly. ‘Wow,’ Nate said through the phone. ‘That ain’t good. What’s on our side?’
‘Well, she says she didn’t do it,’ I noted.
‘Oh, case closed, then. Why are they even bothering taking this one to trial? Do you want me to investigate, or are you going to bargain this one down to ten years and out in four with good behavior?’
I coughed. And I felt perfectly fine. It was a reaction to the situation I was finding myself in. ‘Cynthia pled not guilty at arraignment last night and is out on her own recognizance,’ I told Nate. ‘She intends to take this to trial and clear her name.’
‘Great. Let me know if I should be out looking for the one-armed man.’
‘Uh, Sandy.’ Patrick was a touch more adamant now. ‘May I?’
There would be no denying him. ‘Nate,’ I said. ‘There’s someone here who wants to talk to you about the investigation.’
Nate was silent a moment. ‘You’re kidding,’ he said.
‘No. Patrick McNabb is very insistent on talking to you directly.’ Patrick reached over but I didn’t give him the phone yet because I didn’t want him to hear Nate’s immediate reaction.
‘I mean, you’ve really got to be kidding,’ the investigator said. ‘How is he even involved in it this time?’
‘That’s a really good question,’ I said, and handed the phone to Patrick.
‘Mr Garrigan!’ Patrick was already in his most charming, ingratiating mode. ‘I am hoping you might have a few minutes. I have some knowledge of the situation in which my friend Cynthia finds herself and I think I can be of help to you in your investigations.’
I couldn’t hear Nate’s response but I could predict it. Patrick listened for a few seconds and said, ‘No, I believe I have invaluable insight into the
dynamic of the marriage and the mother-in-law’s role in it. And I can suggest people to interview who can attest to Cynthia’s patience in the situation that would … what?’
There was a slightly longer pause this time. ‘No, I do not intend to go out and interview witnesses on my own, Mr Garrigan.’ Patrick looked less annoyed than surprised such a suggestion might have been made. ‘I would have every expectation that you would come along.’
I wanted to look away and I couldn’t even see Nate.
Patrick waited and listened while I pretended to be looking for something in the top drawer of my desk. There was nothing in there except paper clips, Post-it notes and emergency peanut M&Ms. Could I make-believe I needed a paper clip (when what I really wanted was the candy)?
‘No,’ Patrick went on after Nate had responded, probably with less profanity than he’d actually wanted to use. ‘I do not consider myself a professional investigator. But you have to admit we made a pretty good team the last time, didn’t we?’
In order to prevent Nate from suffocating himself by swallowing his phone, I reached over to Patrick. ‘Let me talk to him,’ I said.
He looked startled. ‘What?’
‘Let me talk to Nate. Right now. This is my office, Patrick. If you don’t want me to come to your soundstage and start telling the director where the camera should be set up, you’re going to give me that phone.’
Patrick, no doubt aware that I would do just what I said, mumbled something about how I’d probably be an improvement over the director they had this week, but he handed me my phone. ‘Nate,’ I said.
‘I think he just appointed himself my assistant,’ he said.
‘I’m not sure,’ I told him. ‘I think it might be the other way around.’
TWELVE
Patrick had to leave for a lunch meeting (he apparently had the day off from shooting Torn because they were filming with the guest star) so I got a chance to actually work on Madelyn Forsythe’s appeal. Which was on the one hand a relief and on the other hand a terror. I had to get Maddie acquitted so she could both stay out of jail and have a chance at retaining custody of her children.
Judgment at Santa Monica Page 7
