Judgement Day

by Andrew Neiderman

  “Really?”

  “Tell you about it at our staff meeting,” Ted said.

  Kevin nodded and started to follow Paul out. He paused at the doorway. “One thing I’d like to know, Ted,” Kevin said, wondering how Miriam, her parents, and his would react to his decision.

  “Sure.”

  “How did you break the news to your father?”

  “I told him how much I wanted to specialize in criminal law and how impressed I was with Mr. Milton.”

  “But you had a family firm to inherit, didn’t you?”

  “Oh . . .” Ted smiled and shook his head. “After a short while you’ll see that this is a family firm, too.” Kevin nodded, impressed with Ted’s sincerity.

  Kevin returned to what would be his office and sat behind the big desk. He leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head, and then spun around to look out over the city. It made him feel like a million dollars. He couldn’t believe his luck—a rich firm, a rent-free luxury apartment in Manhattan . . .

  He turned back and looked into the drawers of the desk. Clean pads, new pens, a fresh diary book—everything was there. He was about to close the lower side drawer when something caught his eye. It was a small jewelry case.

  He took it out and opened it and looked down at a gold pinky ring with the initial “K” carved into it.

  “Trying the chair out for size?” Paul said, stepping in.

  “What? Oh. Yeah. What is this?” He held out the ring.

  “Found that already, huh? Just something from Mr. Milton, a welcoming gift. He did it for all of us.”

  Kevin took the ring out of the case gingerly and tried it on. It was a perfect fit. He looked up with surprise, but Paul didn’t seem at all amazed.

  “It’s those little things, the way he takes the time to show us how committed he is to us as people, that makes the difference here, Kevin.”

  “I can see that.” Kevin thought for a moment and then looked up from his ring. “But how did he know I would take the job?”

  Paul shrugged.

  “Like I said, he’s a great judge of character.”

  “Amazing.” He looked around the office. “This man . . . Jaffee?”

  “What about him?”

  “No one could see it coming?”

  “We knew he was depressed. Everyone pitched in. Mr. Milton hired a nurse for the infant. We did all that we could, called him, visited with him. We all feel guilty; we all felt responsible.”

  “I wasn’t implying . . .”

  “Oh no,” Paul said. “We all live in the same apartment building. We should have been able to help him.”

  “All of you live in the same apartment building?”

  “And you will, too. In fact, you’ll be taking over Jaffee’s apartment.”

  Kevin just stared. He wasn’t sure how Miriam would take to that.

  “How did he . . . did he do it?”

  “He jumped from his patio. But don’t worry,” Paul said, smiling quickly, “I don’t think the apartment is cursed.”

  “Just the same, it might be wise for me to hold back that information from my wife.”

  “Oh, by all means. At least until you’re settled in and she can see for herself how safe and comfortable you are. In time a herd of wild elephants won’t be able to drag her away!”

  4

  It wasn’t until Kevin was about to turn off the expressway that he realized just how much of his and Miriam’s life he would be changing. Not that he regretted any of it—quite the contrary, he couldn’t remember ever being as excited about his life and his career. It was just that as he drew closer to the idyllic little community in which he and Miriam had planned to spend their lives, he realized he was going to take them far away from the life they had pictured.

  But the changes were all good changes, ones Miriam should want, too, he thought. How could she not? More money meant an even bigger dream house than they’d envisioned. Their lives would become more cosmopolitan, and they would get away from what he now saw as a stifling provincialism.

  Perhaps most importantly, they would expand their circle of friends and meet far more interesting people, heads and shoulders above the so-called sophisticated upper class of Blithedale. He had taken an immediate liking to the two other attorneys working in John Milton’s firm and felt confident that Miriam would as well.

  He returned to his law office, checked on his messages. Miriam had called, but he decided he would speak to her when he got home.

  He and Miriam lived in Blithedale Gardens, a complex of cedar wood town houses just outside the village proper in a wooded, rustic setting. The townhouses were comfortable and spacious two-floor apartments with wood-burning brick fireplaces. The complex had a community pool and two clay tennis courts. In no sense of the word had Miriam and he been roughing it during these early years, but when he looked at the town on the quick ride home, he found himself suddenly critical. There was something here he had not seen before—the area had a way of lulling its residents, making them complacent. Now he saw greater things and how unattainable those things would be if they stayed here.

  He pulled into his garage, but before he had a chance to open the front door, Miriam had it opened for him. She stepped back into the foyer, a look of worry on her face. “Where have you been? I thought you would call me before lunch and we might get together, and you know I was waiting to hear what Sanford Boyle had to say.”

  He stepped in, closing the door softly behind him. “Forget Boyle; forget Carlton; forget Sessler.”

  “What?” She brought her right hand to the base of her throat. “Why? They didn’t offer you the partnership?”

  “Partnership? Hardly. Just the opposite.”

  “What do you mean, Kevin?”

  He shook his head. “They didn’t fire me so much as they suggested I find something more suitable to my . . . my nature,” he said. He walked past her to the living room and flopped on the couch.

  She remained behind, looking stunned. “It was this last case, wasn’t it?”

  “The straw that broke the camel’s back, I suppose. Look, Miriam, I wasn’t meant for them and they weren’t meant for me.”

  “But Kev . . . after three years with only good things happening.” She grimaced. “I knew you shouldn’t have taken this case. I knew it. Now look what’s happened,” she cried. She couldn’t keep her heart from pounding. How would it look? Kevin defends a known lesbian and then loses his position at one of the most prestigious firms in the community? She could hear her mother saying “I told you so.”

  “Relax.” He smiled up at her.

  “Relax?” She tilted her head. Why wasn’t he more upset? “Where have you been, Kevin?” She looked at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “And aren’t you home early?”

  “Uh-huh. Come on in. Sit down.” He patted the cushion beside him. “I have a lot to tell you.”

  “Your mother called,” she said, almost as if she foresaw his words and wanted to start reminding him of his ties to the area.

  “I’ll call her in a while. Everything all right?”

  “Oh yes. She wanted to congratulate you on the court victory,” she added dryly.

  “Good. She’s going to be even happier now.”

  “Why, Kevin?” Miriam decided to sit across from him, folding her hands in her lap.

  “Don’t look so nervous, honey. All we’re going to do from now on is improve our lives.”

  “How?”

  “Well, obviously I’m going to leave Boyle, Carlton, and Sessler. Thank God for that.”

  “You used to be very proud of working there,” she said sadly.

  “Used to be. What did I know? I was a kid, just out of law school, happy to get anything like that, but now . . .”

  “What? Tell me,” she asked more forcefully.

  “Well,” he said, leaning forward, “remember that man who came up to us at the bar in the Bramble Inn Friday night and gave me his card?”

  “Yes
.”

  “Well, after I had my cheerful discussion with the Three Stooges, I looked into it.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I called him and drove into Manhattan. It was like . . . like entering one of my daydreams. Talk about your rich New York firms. Wait until you see this. They’re on the twenty-eighth floor. The view is magnificent. Anyway, they’re literally inundated with work; that’s how fast their reputation has grown in New York. They desperately need another attorney.”

  “What did you do, Kevin?”

  “First let me tell you that Paul wasn’t kidding. They will be paying me twice as much as I would have earned at Boyle, Carlton, and Sessler this year even if they had done the right thing and made me a full partner. And that’s a lot of money, Miriam. Second, I’d only be doing what I want to do, trying criminal cases.”

  “But what if it doesn’t work out? You’re secure here; you’re building something here.”

  “What do you mean, doesn’t work out? That’s some vote of confidence from my wife.” He worked up a look of disappointment instantly, as if he were in court.

  “I’m just trying to . . .”

  “I know. Any big move like this is scary, but once you meet everyone . . . and this is the best part as far as we’re concerned, Miriam: the other associates, Ted and Dave and Paul, are all married, and none of them have children yet. Dave and Ted and their wives are about our age. We’ll be able to socialize with people with whom we have something in common. I mean, what do you really have in common with Ethel Boyle or Barbara Carlton or Rita Sessler? You know they still think themselves a step better than us because I’m not a partner, and don’t tell me you haven’t complained that they treat you like a child.”

  “But we have other friends, Kevin.”

  “I know. But it’s time we expanded our horizons, honey. These people live and work in New York. They go to shows, concerts, art galleries, take great vacations. You’re going to finally do the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

  She sat back, thinking. Maybe he was right; maybe she had been too cloistered all her life. Maybe it was time to break out of the cocoon. “You really think this is going to be a good move, Kev?”

  “Oh, honey,” he said, getting up and going to her. “It’s not just a good move; it’s a great move.” He kissed her and sat beside her, taking her hands in his. “I wouldn’t do anything that would make you unhappy, no matter how happy I think it would make me. It just couldn’t work. We’re too . . . too much a part of each other.”

  “Yes.” She closed her eyes and bit down softly on her lower lip. He touched her cheek, and she opened her eyes.

  “I love you, Miriam. I don’t see how any man could love a woman more.”

  “Oh, Kev . . .” They kissed again, and then she saw his new pinky ring.

  “Where did you get that, Kevin?” She took hold of his hand to bring the ring closer. “Your initial?”

  “You won’t believe this. It’s a gift from Mr. Milton, sort of a welcome gift.”

  “Really? But how could he know you would accept his offer?”

  “When you meet Mr. Milton, you’ll understand. The man radiates confidence, authority, success.”

  She shook her head and looked at the ring again.

  “Twenty-four-karat gold, solid,” he said, waving his hand.

  “You’re really taken with them.”

  “I know,” he confessed.

  “But Kevin, what about the commuting? You never wanted to get into that.”

  He smiled. “Mr. Milton has a wonderful solution.” He shook his head. “It all seems too perfect to be true, but it is.”

  “What? Tell me,” she said, bouncing on the settee. He laughed at her impatience.

  “Well, it seems that as a result of a case he had years ago, Milton took over a Riverside Drive apartment building and there is an apartment available in it right now.”

  “Riverside Drive? You mean we would move into New York?” She checked her budding excitement. He knew she wasn’t keen on living in the city.

  “Guess what the apartment sells for.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Six hundred thousand dollars!”

  “But Kevin, how can we afford that?”

  “We don’t have to afford it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s ours until we’re ready to build our dream house. No rent, nothing. Not even an electric bill.”

  Miriam’s mouth dropped open so dramatically, he had to laugh again.

  “And get this . . . Ted McCarthy and his wife, Jean; Dave Kotein and his wife, Norma; Paul Scholefield and his wife, Helen, live in the same building, too.”

  “Where does Mr. Milton live?”

  “In a penthouse apartment in the same building. It’s just as Ted McCarthy told me today . . . John Milton and Associates is one big family.”

  Her resistance began to falter. She couldn’t help but be more interested. “What about Mr. Milton? Doesn’t he have a wife and family of his own?”

  “No. Perhaps that’s why he treats his associates like his family.”

  “What is he like?”

  Kevin sat back. “Miriam,” he began, “John Milton is the most charismatic, charming man I have ever met.” As Kevin was describing the meeting to her, he had the uncanny feeling that he was actually reliving it. Every detail had remained vivid in his mind.

  Later, after a quiet dinner, they went to sleep mentally exhausted. In the morning, Kevin would blame that mental exhaustion on his vivid nightmare. He was in court, arguing the Lois Wilson case again, only this time, when he looked up at the judge, the judge was Mr. Milton, who smiled down at him approvingly. Kevin turned toward Barbara Stanley, who sat naked on the witness stand. Lois Wilson stood right behind her and leaned over to run the tips of her fingers over the little girl’s nipples. Then she looked up at him and smiled lasciviously before leaning over again to reach down between the little girl’s thighs.

  “No!” he cried.

  “Kevin?”

  “No!” He opened his eyes.

  “What is it?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were shouting.”

  “What? Oh.” He rubbed his face vigorously to wash away the vivid images that lingered in his eyes. “Just a nightmare.”

  “Wanna talk about it?” Miriam asked in a very groggy voice.

  “No. I’ll go back to sleep. I’m all right. It’s nothing,” he said. She moaned gratefully and fell asleep quickly. Moments later, he permitted his eyes to close.

  When he awoke, Kevin called the office to say he wasn’t coming in and asked Mary to reschedule his appointment with the Settons. The secretary was surprised and wanted to know more, but Kevin ended the call abruptly. Then they dressed, ate breakfast, and left for the city. It had snowed nearly two inches, the second significant snowfall of the year, and it wasn’t even December. There was a soft carpet of milky white fresh flakes that crunched underfoot and put Miriam in the mood for Christmas. Sleigh bells tinkled in her memory, and when she had looked up on the way to the car, she saw a patch of blue sky through an opening in the clouds. The sun’s rays came pouring through and turned the snowy branches into glistening sticks of cotton candy.

  The heavy commuter traffic over the Grand Central Parkway, however, quickly changed the same clean white flakes into greasy-looking black and brown slush. Automobiles ahead of them slung the icy muck into their windshield. The wipers cleared it away with a monotonous regularity. Directly ahead of them, low gray clouds lingered threateningly on the skyline.

  “Commuting is not for me,” Kevin muttered as they approached the toll booth. “I couldn’t deal with the tension and the wasted time.”

  “On the other hand, living in the city isn’t all peaches and cream, Kevin. Parking problems, traffic . . .”

  “Oh, no parking problems, honey. There’s a secure private parking garage in the basement of our building.”

  “Really?
”

  “I won’t need to drive to work, either. Mr. Milton has a limo for us that takes us to work and back every day. He told me it would become a sort of second office . . . Paul, Ted, Dave, and I discussing cases, et cetera.”

  “What about Mr. Milton?”

  “Keeps different hours, I guess.” She stared at him. “I don’t know it all yet, honey. But I will. I will,” he chanted.

  She sat back as they entered the city. As soon as Kevin turned down Blazer Avenue and approached Riverside Drive, Paul Scholefield stepped out of the John Milton and Associates limo that was parked in front of the apartment building and signaled for him to turn into the parking garage under the building.

  The gate opened and he drove in.

  “You guys have 15D,” Paul said, pointing to their spaces. “Might as well get into the right one.”

  Kevin backed up and parked. Paul opened Miriam’s door and helped her out of the car as Kevin came around to greet him.

  “Great to see you again, Mrs. Taylor.”

  “Oh, please call me Miriam.”

  “Miriam. Please call me Paul,” he countered with a smile. “There’s an elevator right down here,” he said, pointing to the right. “The parking lot gate opens with a clicker.” He took one out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Kevin. “You have another one in your apartment on the kitchen counter.” He turned back to Miriam. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that this garage is heated,” he said proudly and pushed the button to request the elevator. The door opened instantly, and he gestured for them to step in first.

  “How long have you and Helen been living here, Paul?” Kevin asked.

  “We moved in soon after Mr. Milton acquired it. It’s been . . . six years.”

  “This is a very nice area in the city, isn’t it?” Miriam asked.

  Paul smiled and nodded. “We’re close to Lincoln Center, galleries, not far from the theater district. New York will be at your fingertips, Miriam,” he said, and the elevator door opened. He held it open for them and indicated that they should go out and to their right.

  Paul stopped before 15D, which, like the other apartments, had a wide, dark oak door with a small metal mallet for a knocker.