“Don’t stonewall me, Nina. Lindy and I go way back. I loaned her the money to get this show on the road, you know!”
“Yes, she told me that. I know she’s very grateful for your help.”
“Well, to be honest, she’s been a good friend to me, and I’d sure love to see her get that gorilla Mike off her back permanently. Oh, and that’s something I want to ask you about.”
“Ask me?”
“Yes, you. Do you know much about me?”
“Very little.” She remembered Lindy’s laughing reference to the loony bin, though.
“Yeah, that’s Lindy. Weak on the gossip front, always has been. If you need the dirt on anyone, you give me a call, Nina. You just skip right over here. Will you do that?”
“Okay,” said Nina, melting into the surrealism of this conversation like one of Dali’s clocks.
“Now, let’s get back to me. Here’s the cheat sheet, abbreviated version of my saga: I had a world-class nervous breakdown when my husband dumped me four years ago. I did a few things . . . let’s save those details for the rumor mill. They come out a lot funnier that way. Then I spent a year locked up. Not in jail. In a place worse than jail. You may remember hearing about that.”
“Uh-huh,” said Nina, trying to sound only mildly interested, and curious to know what reaction Miss Manners recommended under similar circumstances.
“But that’s all in the past, okay? My life’s back on track. I haven’t had too much to do with the law—just my divorce and the commitment. But my experiences really got me hooked into the local resources, you might say. I know people from all walks of life, people who will jump through hoops for me and mine. And here’s something else you should know. I want Lindy to win this lawsuit. I’m prepared to do whatever it takes. So we come back around to my question. What do you want me to do?”
Nina was silent.
“You heard me, didn’t you?”
“I heard you,” Nina said. “Alice, the most important thing you can do right now for Lindy is just . . . continue to be her friend.”
There was silence on the other end of the line.
“Alice?”
“And to think I actually recommended you,” Alice said, and hung up the phone.
On Sunday afternoon, under a blanket on the back deck, looking out at the snowy forest, Nina curled up with a cell phone instead of the proverbial cat. Through the picture window she could see that Bob and his cousin Troy had abandoned the computer to lounge on the rug in front of the fire and eat popcorn.
“Winston?” Giving up on having her calls answered at his office, she had called his house in Bel Air.
“Nina! I’ve been trying to get back to you. Great ski weather up there, I hear. It’s almost beach weather here in L.A. The smog’s cleared so we get our yearly look at the mountains.”
“Yeah. I saw you on the news. Too bad about your case.”
“Yes, what a disappointment.”
“You seemed pretty sure you’d wipe the floor with them when we talked.”
“I would have, if the judge had let me and if I’d had a little more leeway with the jury selection. The clients are going to appeal, naturally,” Winston said. “The judge just shut us out. We couldn’t get half the good stuff into play. I turned them on to a good appellate lawyer, but meantime I’ve got a fortune tied up in costs I’ve advanced. But no problem. There’s still your case. Lose one, you gotta believe the next one’s going to be a win for sure and you’re gonna work twice as hard.”
“Really? You’ve read the pleadings, had dinner with me, haven’t even heard about the discovery, and you’re so sure?”
“Sure I’m sure. Look at the talent we have onboard. It’s just another jury.” But he had heard the strain in her voice because he immediately added, “Right. What happened?”
“Riesner pulled out a written separate property agreement,” Nina said, “signed by our client. Our client claims she’s never seen it before, but she has said the signature bears a remarkable resemblance to hers.”
A deep sigh came from the other end of the phone.
“Yeah,” she said again. The slate-gray sky seemed to be darkening by the minute. A stray cinder from the chimney drifted down to the deck.
“She never even gave you a hint there might be something lying around?”
“I had no idea.”
“Tell me about it,” Winston said in his warm, reassuring voice, and she went over the day of Markov’s deposition with him, trying to be as precise as she could about Lindy’s reaction to the document.
“The way you tell it, she’s lying,” Winston said when she was done.
“Maybe she is. I’m not psychic. But then, some people look like terrible liars when they’re telling the truth. I know I want to believe her but she sure makes it hard.”
“Depressed, are you?”
“Deeply.”
“Hmmm. So what now?”
“I call you, the famous trial lawyer, for advice. Isn’t that why you’re on the case?”
“You want my advice? Here it is. First, find out whether there’s anything we can use to show duress. Press her for details about the scene on the day that she signed and I guarantee, there will be dirt for you to sift through. Second, assume the document is a fraud. Prove it by getting an expert to swear the signature is forged, or busting Markov’s chops during cross-examination. Third, stonewall. Don’t let Riesner get it admitted as evidence.”
“Piece of cake,” she said. “Anything else?”
“Did you think you were gonna bring down a few million in legal fees without having to sweat for it? You’re gonna sweat. Hear what I’m saying? You should have expected something like this. You don’t like surprises, you’re in the wrong business.”
“True enough,” said Nina, but she felt disappointed. Somewhere deep in her irrational heart, she had hoped Winston, her high-priced talent, might instantly solve all her problems.
“Now let’s get crackin’. I’m coming up to help you finish the depos. I’ll bring Genevieve. She’d like to see the witnesses and get started organizing a shadow jury. We just moved into the hardball phase. We’re going to bring it home, Nina. You hear?”
“I hear.”
“You hear and you believe?”
“Winston, I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He laughed. “I’ll be up Thursday. Let’s finish Markov that day. Then Friday, let’s get the little gal who caused all this trouble—Pembroke. On Monday, let’s do anybody else that’s important. Can you set that up?”
“I’ll do my best. I ought to be able to drag Riesner back before the Examiner by Tuesday. I know Markov doesn’t have any big obligations. He’s refusing to work at the company and he won’t let Lindy go back. I’d say he’s pouting, but I guess you’re not supposed to say that about CEO’s.”
“So who’s minding the store?”
“The second-tier executives, Rachel Pembroke and this Hector guy. Hector Galka, the Executive Vice President of Financial Strategies and Accounts, and an old friend of Mike Markov. I’ll try to line them up for Friday and Monday.”
“Okay. Help’s on the way. Now. What else are we going to do?”
“Get a forensic handwriting analyst,” Nina said. “Get the signature on the agreement analyzed. I suppose there’s a remote chance it is a forgery, though I can’t believe they’d be so idiotic.”
“Everybody’s idiotic around this much money. But here’s a thought. Let’s skip that step. Don’t get a handwriting analyst. Call Lindy and tell her you’re going to hire one, and tell her it’ll be expensive and a hassle and is she sure she can’t remember signing that thing. Get me?”
“You think that’ll smoke her out.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. She lies and I pull tricks on her. What a way to do business.”
“It’s for her own good.”
“Speaking of things being expensive, how much is this shadow jury of Genevieve’s going t
o cost?”
“You ought to check with her, but the last one she did for me—oh, between forty and fifty thousand. Hire the people, Genevieve’s time, all that.”
“What? That’s impossible! We just don’t have that kind of money, Winston.”
“Okay, look, I’ll talk with Genevieve. We’ll work with you on that, see how we can minimize our costs. And then you’ll have to find the money. Just keep thinking about your piece of the pie, and what a small investment it is against your return. I do wish I could help more with the finances,” Winston said. “This is an expensive business. It sure is. I’ll try to kick in something later on.”
“Lindy said something about being able to come up with some more money at some point. . . .”
“See! You’re getting the hang of this business already. If you need money, you get money.”
“I’m still very—concerned.”
“Go ahead, sweat,” Winston said. “We’ll come up and sweat with you. We’re workin’ it, that’s why you’re sweating. That’s just how it goes. We’re getting started. We’re with you. You hear?”
“I hear.”
“Yes. You hear. But do you hear and believe?”
“I’m working on that,” she said, her heart a little lighter.
Lindy returned Nina’s call on Monday night. “Alice said you called me. I’m not sure why she waited so long to mention it except that she’s mad about something. Anyway, I wanted to tell you I’ve decided I’m not going to be attending the rest of the depositions. Is that a problem?”
“No, but why not?”
“I have to get out of this place,” she said. “This whole situation is making me crazy. Some days I know we’ll win and I’m going to walk away with my fair share, and other days, I see myself five years from now, spritzing flowers all day long, working for Alice at the shop I helped her buy. Or maybe even living with her, like Joan Crawford and Bette Davis in a horror movie. I’d play the former hotshot, now faded and out of my mind, wallowing in a glorious past. Alice would be crippled, having shot that gun one too many times, and we’d live out our poverty-stricken lives in a ramshackle old place in black and white, all the color having left with Mike and my money.”
“Don’t worry so much. You’ll be all right.”
“I hope that’s true. But the big reason I’m not coming is I don’t think I can stand to hear Mike’s version of what went on between us until I have to, during the trial.”
“What will you do?” Nina envisioned some other friend’s house, or maybe Lindy would move to a suite at Caesar’s.
“I got a form in the mail from the Nevada Mining Commission. My dad used to go out to this canyon out in the Carson range and visit this claim we had,” Lindy said.
“A mining claim?”
“Yes, he thought he’d find a vein of pure silver the Comstock lode miners missed. He was always looking for a fast buck. A real dreamer. He never had the patience to work the mine properly, but I’d go out there with him and we’d dig around and stay in an old trailer he’d found somewhere. You have to work the claim every year and file some paperwork or you lose it, but if you do that, you can keep it indefinitely. The claim and the trailer were all he left me.”
Nina said, “You’re not thinking of doing what I’m thinking you’re thinking of doing, are you?”
“Well, the trailer’s got a radio and propane and a generator. There’s a water tank out back. Don’t worry, I’ll be back when it’s my turn to get on the grill.”
“But why? Why would you do that?”
“I’m broke,” Lindy said. “Now there’s a big difference between broke and poor. Broke is a temporary thing. Poor is different. I’ve been poor, and I know the difference. I’ve got prospects. I’ve got a place to live. By God, that’s one thing that’s not in Mike’s name. It’s warmer down there, only three thousand feet altitude, no snow. I can do some riding and some thinking.”
“Riding?”
“My horse, Comanche. Mike doesn’t own Comanche either. I looked at what I have right here and you know what? I’ve been worse off.”
“You don’t have to live like that,” Nina said.
“Look, Nina, this is temporary. I know you’re putting out a lot for me and I know you can’t do it all. I’ve been able to scrape together a few thousand, and that goes to you today. You get every penny I can find right now to win this case.”
Grateful she did not have to ask again for money, Nina wondered, not for the first time, why a woman who had worked for so long could have so little left. “But how will I reach you?”
“Don’t worry. It’s only a little more than an hour away by car. And there’s a gas station and a little store where the highway meets the dirt road into the mountains. There’s a phone there. I know the couple that run the place.”
“I don’t know, Lindy. I—”
“What business is it of yours?” Lindy said testily. “I’m a grown woman. I’ll take care of myself. I grew up like this, Nina. What’d you think, I’m just some soft society matron who can’t tie her own shoes?”
“It’s not right,” Nina said. “I don’t feel I’m taking good care of you. You shouldn’t have this kind of hardship.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“Lindy,” Nina said. “I want to ask you again about that agreement.”
“I signed it.”
“You did sign it?”
“I was lying, and you knew it. Don’t pretend.”
“Why did you lie, Lindy?”
“I’d almost forgotten all about it until I saw his lawyer waving it around. To me, it meant nothing at the time, just a piece of paper talking about money we might never have. But you were so grim-looking when you saw it. I got scared.”
“Who prepared it?”
“I typed it up. Mike asked me to. He wanted me to sign it, so I did. So now we’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Did you mean to sign away any rights you might have in the company, Lindy?” Nina said, her voice shaking a little from the magnitude of the question.
“I was willing to do that, since it was the main obstacle to our getting married,” Lindy explained. “He told me—he promised—that if I signed the paper we’d get married. And that’s, I swear to God, exactly how it went.”
“And then?”
“And then, like I said before, he had to go out of town. When he came back, I said if we didn’t get married, I’d leave him. And he sweet-talked me. He didn’t want me to leave. In other words, live with it. And I stayed, because I loved him. That’s the whole story, Nina.”
Nina put aside the melange of thoughts Lindy stirred up, concentrating instead on writing as much as she could of the story on the legal pad in front of her.
“So, he didn’t hold a gun to my head,” Lindy went on, “or try to punch me out.”
“But he promised he’d marry you if you signed it.”
Lindy said bitterly, “That’s right. And I remember what you told me. I know there’s no legal help for somebody breaking their promise to marry you.”
“No, there are no breach-of-promise suits,” Nina said in a vague tone. “But a gift made on the assumption that a marriage will take place may be recovered.”
“What does that mean?” Lindy said.
“It refers to a seldom-used statute that harks back to the days of buggies and girls in crinolines you just reminded me about. But I think—I’ll get back to you about that.”
“How are we doing now, Nina? Have I wrecked everything?”
“This agreement isn’t good news, Lindy. You already know that. But I do have our two associates coming up to help us out soon.” She didn’t know exactly why she wanted to cheer Lindy up, since she was the one who really needed the cheering. “They are going to give our side a real boost.”
Lindy sounded subdued. “I’m sorry about lying. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that you have to remember, I’m used to being the boss. I’m used to making strategy decisio
ns without consulting anyone, except maybe Mike. And he wasn’t exactly available to set me straight this time around.”
“Apology accepted.”
“Listen, I’ll call your office from the gas station and give Sandy the number. She can leave messages there. Meanwhile, gotta go.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“I’ve got to run some errands over the next couple days, then I’m packin’ up my saddlebags and strappin’ on my spurs, so to speak. Good luck. Keep me posted.”
“You be careful,” Nina said, and a vision sprang into her mind of Lindy on a big white horse wearing that gold Egyptian necklace she had worn to the party trotting up Highway 50 past the casinos, heading for the foothills of Nevada. “Please.”
On the following Thursday, Winston and Genevieve arrived. Genevieve looked animated and ready for action. Sporting fresh bags under his eyes, Winston had a strangely hangdog expression on his face.
While they waited in the conference room for Mike Markov to arrive so that they could finish deposing him, Nina took Winston aside.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I ended up working red at the roulette table on my way to bed last night. I swear, that wheel is the Jim Jones of gambling. It lures you with a few inspirational wins so you get cocky. You start betting numbers. You win some more. People are clapping and shouting, all riled up, watching the chips stack up in front of you. Then suddenly the room goes cold. The balls slips into a zero and then a double zero. The croupier rakes it all in.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Really? I lost ten—over two thousand dollars.”
Had she heard right? Nina felt steamed. She could have used some of that money. “Two hundred’s about my limit, even when I’m on a real bender.”
“Worst part is, I’d do it again.”
“It’s a good thing you don’t live up here.”
“Doesn’t matter where I am,” Winston said, “I’m having a ball and taking too damn many risks.”
Mike Markov walked in with Jeff Riesner, immediately making it clear his whole attitude had hardened. Nina explained that Lindy had decided not to attend any further depositions, and he said, “Good.” Then he said his prepared piece, that any offer of settlement was withdrawn.
BREACH OF PROMISE Page 14
