Lethal Lawyers

by Dale E. Manolakas

  “I know. I’m sure he’s just crossing his t’s and dotting his i’s.”

  “What’s next?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s next. I don’t want to be in San Francisco with Roger.”

  “What do you mean? He’s going?”

  “He’s taking Frank’s other deposition on Tuesday.”

  “You’ll be having an out-of-town dinner with Roger and Frank,” Paul chuckled. “What a treat!”

  “I’m stuck.”

  “You sure are.” Paul got up. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Me too.”

  * * *

  When Sophia got back to her office, the first thing she did was take Doug’s calendar with notes from her purse. She stood up to go throw it in the shredder waste, but then decided that if everyone wanted it—she did too. Instead, she taped it to the bottom of her right-hand upper desk drawer, Sherlock Holmes style.

  She emailed the revised deposition questions to Frank. She then printed a copy and went to his office to “be seen” on Saturday and make sure he knew she was finished.

  Frank’s door was open. Sophia knocked and stuck her head in.

  “Sophia, come in. How’s the star?”

  “Fine.” She did not bother to feign modesty since she knew she had rocked the day before on the goddess case. “I have the Crondall deposition questions for your review. I also emailed a draft.”

  “Sit down. Let me see.”

  Sophia handed Frank the fifteen pages of questions and sat down. After a few minutes, he looked up from the list of questions.

  “Perfect. I like what you did. If we get the right answers, we can set up a summary adjudication of this issue before trial. If that putz opposing attorney takes it that far.”

  “Thanks.”

  Sophia was amazed Frank had read and digested the questions that fast.

  “You might want to draft some follow-up questions for eight and fourteen in case I get equivocal answers. I’ll grind the truth out of him. In a deposition you have to think on your feet, but you can never be too prepared.”

  Frank grabbed a stack of papers form the corner of his desk.

  “Here are the documents for the deposition Tuesday. Have your secretary do five sets of copies: two for us, one each for the court reporter, opposing counsel, and the witness. Bring them with you when we fly out Monday at three. My secretary will email you the particulars Monday morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “How’s the goddess venue motion and answer coming?”

  “Okay. I’ve just started.”

  Frank got up and opened a file drawer that blended with the bookcases.

  “Here are some excellent change of venue motions I’ve written over the years. Follow their format.”

  Sophia returned to her own office. She did the follow-up deposition questions and drafted part of the goddess venue motion and answer.

  At five, she decided to call it quits. She was hungry and needed sleep. She had to shop for her new suits on Sunday because by Monday afternoon she would be on her way to San Francisco. Sophia also needed a day without office drama and to go have Sunday dinner with her parents. She hadn’t seen them in months.

  * * *

  Sunday was indeed a day without drama, but also unfortunately a day without visiting her parents.

  Sophia worked from home, but took a break to buy two new suits, a few blouses, and an updated phone—the latest iPhone. She called her parents and begged off from dinner. They were not happy, but then when were they with her lately? She didn’t have the time, but also didn’t want to go into the Judith incident with them. It was just too much. She couldn’t please everyone, and, unfortunately, they were last on her list because they would always be there. Then she took a long, badly needed nap before she packed for San Francisco and the depositions.

  ⌘

  Chapter 34

  Copy This—or Not

  At eight a.m. Monday, Sophia was at her desk making sure she had written down every minute of her billable hours for the weekend. She grabbed her enhanced deposition questions to run up to Frank’s office, her list of goddess issues to research at the library, and the stack of documents to be copied for the San Francisco depo.

  She dropped by Marlene’s desk and left the depo documents to be copied. She put a charming, kiss-ass note to get Marlene to do the work by noon today because she was leaving for the airport at three.

  After finishing her goddess library session and grabbing a quick lunch at the cafeteria, Sophia made her way back to her office. She saw that the depo documents remained untouched on Marlene’s desk—and no Marlene. She grabbed them and hurried to the copy room to make the five sets.

  “Damn,” Sophia muttered as she fought to collate the copies automatically on the unfamiliar machine.

  Finally successful, Sophia took the copies and scurried past Marlene, who was now at her desk. Even though Sophia had planned her time for a Marlene “stonewall,” she was angry. She slammed her office door and called Tricia.

  “Tricia?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s me, Sophia.”

  “Oh, hi. Before we talk, how is the review of Chet’s Super Vacuum case going?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Super Vacuum. We are having a phone conference about it right now. You bill .5 conference re: discovery and so will I.”

  “Fine. Okay. You’re on speaker with my door shut. I have to check through some documents while I talk.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just had to copy five sets of exhibits for Frank’s depo because Marlene stonewalled me. Even if I had the time, I can’t bill for this secretarial work.”

  "Do you need me to come up and help?”

  "No, I’m just pissed. That’s all. I needed to blow off steam. What can I do about Marlene?”

  "You can do one of three things. Put in for a secretarial change, which you won’t get, as there are no unassigned secretaries on your floor since all the offices are occupied, use the word-processing pool, or do as much as you can yourself and disguise your hours. I do the latter.”

  “But . . .”

  “Sophia. Stop. There is no good solution. Figure out how to get screwed the least. We all do.”

  “Fine.”

  “But should I talk to Toak?”

  “No. Are you kidding? That’s his woman. Look . . . you’re not listening. There is nothing to do. You’ll have to change offices and there are none open.”

  “Wait a minute. Why don’t the secretaries have to change their stations?”

  “That never happens unless all the sharing attorneys agree. It’ll be a cold day in hell when any sharing attorney cooperates, especially Toak. The secretaries always suck up to one of the attorneys, so it won’t happen. The stonewalled attorney has to do the moving.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “No, it’s not, but those nine to five drones are smarter than they look and more vicious than any litigator you’ll ever encounter.”

  “I hate this.” Sophia stacked the scrutinized exhibits and flopped down in her chair.

  “I could tell you one horror story after another and someday I’ll tell you mine . . . winning the battle and losing the war. For now, you get going.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t forget we’re billing .5 hours to Super Vacuum re: conference on discovery.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Look, Sophia. The last laugh is yours. Five years ago there were three times as many of those parasites around. With computers, they’ve been downsized to four on one. Be happy. Someday they’ll all be obsolete and completely out of a job.”

  “Thanks. I guess.”

  Sophia hung up. She was mad and deflated. The only thing Tricia had said that made her feel better was that the secretaries were becoming obsolete. That couldn’t come too soon for Sophia.

  She didn’t like billing the .5 to Super Vacuum, having done nothing for them, but she coul
dn’t say no to Tricia—nor did she have the heart to tell her about her successes with Frank.

  ⌘

  Chapter 35

  Forewarned is Forearmed

  Sophia finished packing her litigation bag for San Francisco with the exhibit copies and deposition materials. She had just sat down for a second when the phone rang.

  “Sophia Christopoulos speaking.”

  “Hello, it’s Ben . . . Ben Kowrilski the reporter.”

  Sophia was silent.

  “I know there was a detective at your firm?”

  “No comment and don’t call me again.”

  Sophia hung up.

  The phone rang again.

  “Don’t call me again. No . . .”

  “Paul here. What was that about?”

  “Some reporter called me.”

  “Just hang up on them. They lie and get through.”

  “I did, but it’s unsettling.”

  “It won’t be after a while.”

  “I hope not. Hey, you’re not at the temple either?”

  “Hell, no. Tricia and I decided we’d rather bill like everyone else.”

  “I was absolved by Frank and his work.”

  Sophia was defensive because her Greek background dictated that all funerals should be respectfully attended, even the attenuated ones.

  “I have to leave for San Francisco in a few minutes. What’s up?”

  “I called to tell you to get out of here. That detective . . . Detective Rutger, is trolling around the firm. He just grilled me about Judith.”

  “Thanks. I’m walking out now. I don’t have time for him.”

  “He focused on Judith’s fight with Marvin.”

  “Chet must have told him. I didn’t.”

  “And don’t, Sophia. Don’t tell him anything you don’t have to. Stay out of this. I wish I wouldn’t have found her in the stairwell. That detective wants to know about the ‘damn you.’ He’s on a mission to take someone down. I’m not going to be his vehicle.”

  “Right. Number one rule: keep your mouth shut.” Sophia thought of her mistake with Taylor at the Grill. “Hey, Marvin wasn’t even around when she fell, was he?”

  “No. Besides, Judith thrived on fights. With anyone. That’s what I told the detective. He thought Thorne & Chase was some la-la-land like those pabulum TV shows about law firms where everyone works together happily solving cases and finding pots of gold. He has no idea. Good luck with Frank and Roger in San Francisco. I don’t envy you. Maybe they’ll behave because you’re new. But you’d better get going.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  “Forewarned is forearmed. Get out of there. I’ve got to call Marvin now.” Paul hung up.

  Sophia stood and quickly double-checked the litigation bag. As she grabbed her purse from her drawer to leave, there was a knock at the door and it opened.

  “Ms. Christopoulos, your secretary said you were in.” Detective Rutger walked right in. “Busy?”

  “I have to leave.”

  “I know. At three. We have some time.” Detective Rutger sat down.

  “I guess I can give you five minutes.” She remained standing behind her desk.

  “Better than nothing.” The detective took out his notebook and flipped through it. “You were there when Ms. Rubin died?”

  “No. I was coming back from dinner and only saw her body being wheeled out.”

  “So you weren’t there in the stairwell?”

  “Right, as I think you already knew.”

  Sophia didn’t have time for the detective’s fishing expedition, no matter how attractive he was, and she wasn’t going to repeat everything again and again.

  “You’re new. I wanted to talk to you because you have a fresh eye.” The detective took out his ballpoint pen and clicked it to write. “Did Judith strike you as a woman with enemies? I dropped by the funeral and noticed there were not many people from the firm there.”

  “I don’t know. As you said, I’m new. People probably chose to stay and work. We’re all pretty busy right now.”

  “Work. Of course.” The detective ran his fingers, with grease-stained cuticles and fingernails, through his hair.

  “Worked on your car this weekend, Detective?” Sophia asked, intending to belittle him.

  “Steve. Remember?” The detective looked at his hand with pride. “Changed the spark plugs and oil. Oil every three months. Love my Corvette . . . black . . . red leather inside.”

  Sophia’s defenses dropped and she smiled. She couldn’t hold back her enthusiasm. She loved black Corvettes and took a guess. “Vintage 60’s?”

  “1964.”

  “You restored it?”

  “Her.” The detective cocked his head, lowered his chin, and winked. “Yes, and I keep her purring like a kitten.”

  My God, it was high school all over again, boys and their cars. After law school and bloody stumps from crawling her way to Thorn & Chase, she was talking cars, kicking tires, and well on the way to flirting with this handsome purveyor of testosterone. She appalled herself. But she liked the bastard. She knew what and who he was, a simple man like the boys she grew up with.

  “Anything else? I have to go.” Sophia ended the interchange

  “Not now. The complete autopsy is not done. But Judith was murdered.”

  “Murdered? Really? Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?”

  “Like I told the Management Committee, her neck was broken, but my guess is that it wasn’t from the fall.”

  “Your guess? Isn’t ‘guess’ the operative word in your sentence?”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. If you know or hear anything, you should tell me. No one else.”

  Sophia didn’t like that she had already talked too much at the Grill with Taylor and Roger.

  Steve stood and placed his card gently in her hand. “No one else.”

  “Fine.” Sophia looked up at him, genuinely disingenuous.

  She thought of the calendar taped to the bottom of her drawer, but kept her mouth shut, unlike last night at the Grill.

  “I’ll know more when you get back from San Francisco. You'd better go. You’ll be late.”

  “Goop would get the grease off.”

  “I know.”

  Steve smiled and left the door open as he walked out.

  ⌘

  Chapter 36

  All in the Family

  Sophia grabbed her case of documents, suitcase, purse, and coat. She had three minutes to get to the valet parking floor. She punched the elevator call button repeatedly and ridiculously, willing the elevator to come faster.

  It didn’t come faster, but she was down to catch the limo on time. As she rounded the corner in the garage she saw Frank, with Roger in tow.

  “Right on time.” Frank greeted her.

  “Ready to go.” Sophia relaxed.

  “And what exactly is she coming for?” Roger glowered at Frank.

  “To learn, Roger. We need the next generation, don’t we?”

  Roger, who considered himself the next generation, turned defiantly and got into the black limousine.

  “After you, Sophia.” Frank waited.

  The firm had a standing contract with a car service. It was only the second time Sophia been in a limo. The first time was for a Bode summer associate party. It was a catered picnic dinner at the Hollywood Bowl with enough wine to get them all through a long show of oldies but not so goodies.

  On the way to the airport, Frank and Roger didn’t speak to each other. Frank chatted up Sophia, but her mind was really back on the bomb the detective had dropped—that Judith’s broken neck was not from the fall. How could he know that?

  “I love San Francisco. Have you ever been?” Frank interrupted Sophia’s thoughts.

  “As a child. I haven’t been back since.” She feigned enthusiasm as she assessed her company and the minefields she would have negotiate for two days. “I remember going down the crooked-est road in the world.”


  Frank ignored her answer and turned to needle Roger.

  “Roger, did you hear about Sophia doing the most crackerjack piece of research I have ever seen, last Friday morning? I gave her one issue after another. She came up with an answer each time. Definitive answers with citations. None of this ‘if that’ and ‘except’ and ‘to the best of my knowledge’ crap you hand out.”

  “You’re making too much out of it.”

  Sophia saw Roger’s jaw clench down and his face redden as Frank continued.

  “I know talent. I can pick them. What do you think about that, Roger? The young ones chomping at our heels.” Frank laughed. “I’ll premium bill for that one.”

  “Premium bill? For me?” Sophia interjected.

  “Now Frank thinks you’re worth triple your hourly rates, along with him. Apparently, it doesn’t matter that you have only been on the job three days and still have no Bar card to legally practice law.”

  “We were both worth triple our rate, Sophia. And Baxter Peterson knew it,” Frank ordained. “I’ll even increase your hours when I go over the bill. You’re part of the family now.”

  Sophia said nothing, processing in her mind that not only was there “value billing” but now “premium billing?” She expected “billing for billing” as the next step.

  “Baxter!” Roger leaned forward. “Baxter’s my client. He’s half my tape. Why didn’t you call me?”

  Sophia looked up at Roger. Another fifty percent argument between a junior partner and a full partner. Par for the course. She began to think she was a magnet for conflict.

  “I did. You didn’t answer. So I took care of Baxter like always. Sophia and I did, that is.”

  Roger’s face was redder and his veins popped in his temples. His fists were clenched. Sophia knew Frank had to stop goading Roger. They drove on in silence. All three of them knew Frank had never called Roger.

  Sophia was happier with the silence. She analyzed the information the detective had given her and decided that he couldn't possibly know Judith’s broken neck was not from the fall. He was manipulating her. He had admitted the autopsy was not done yet. What did he think she was? A fool?