Feeling oddly flimsy in a white blouse under a muted peach suit, she spotted Lindy and Alice across the parking lot just pulling up in Alice’s old Taurus. She walked over quickly and joined them. Together they headed across the lot, storming firmly through the throng that massed around the entrance to the courthouse. Right before she reached the door, Nina had to shove a particularly long, nasty-looking microphone out of her face to avoid swallowing it.
Inside the building, Deputy Kimura had just opened the courtroom doors. A long line of people who’d been waiting dashed inside, jostling for seats. Before closing the doors for good, he allowed in a few stragglers. These lucky late-birds squeezed into the back and stood leaning against the drab paneling.
Nina saw that Rachel, surrounded by a phalanx of Markov Enterprises employees, had taken a place directly behind Mike. Harry Anderssen, her ex-boyfriend, had taken the seat directly behind her. He glared at her back as she leaned forward and squeezed Mike’s hand. She had her long hair tied back and looked modest in a dark dress topped by a dark yellow jacket. Mike was the quintessential businessman in a granite-colored suit and a green tie so dark it was almost black. When Riesner dropped an arm lightly over his shoulder and began talking with him in a low voice, Rachel moved demurely back.
Riesner wore his usual blue suit and smirk.
Looking uncharacteristically indifferent to fashion, Lindy was wearing a long skirt below a matching dove-colored sweater set, her only concession to vanity a pair of pearl earrings. As they took their places, she pointed out to Nina some people she knew. Meanwhile, Alice, sitting right behind them, talked nonstop, jiggling the high-heeled mule on her crossed leg in a silent, frenzied rhythm.
A few seats away from Alice, Nina saw the disturbing dark-haired man who’d threatened her when she’d been in the Solo Spa. He stood up to wave at Lindy as she turned to say something to Alice.
“Oh, look,” Alice said. “There’s George, Lindy’s puppy dog. She just gives a tug on the leash and he comes.”
“Alice,” said Lindy, with a nervous look around the overstuffed courtroom. “Leave George alone.”
“No, really. I think every woman needs a guy like George in the background to do her dirty work.”
“Dirty work?” Nina started, but was interrupted by the clerk.
“Superior Court for the State of California is now in session, the Honorable Curtis E. Milne presiding.”
They all rose as the judge entered the room. One feminist publication had brought out a noisy contingent of rabble-rousers who sat near Riesner, trying to engage him in dialog, but Judge Milne imposed silence in his court with a slight raising of the eyebrow. How he managed it, Nina did not know, but all the power of the institution of justice came to life in those sparse hairs.
Once he was satisfied his courtroom had come to order, the judge rustled in his chair, studying the documents before him, adjusting his glasses and running a hand over his bald pate. He directed himself to the jury.
“The moment is at hand, ladies and gentlemen. We will begin by hearing opening statements of the attorneys. That is all we will be able to get through by noon, which is the time the court has allotted for this matter today. We’ll reconvene again tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp.
“The attorneys tell me that they expect to take no more than six court days to present their evidence. They have agreed that I may read you this very brief introduction to the matter you will be deciding.
“The primary question in this case is whether or not these two people, Mikhail and Lindy Markov, had a written, oral, or implied agreement to share ownership in a business known as Markov Enterprises. If you decide that there was such an agreement, you will be asked to determine exactly what form any such agreement took. If you decide that the agreement provided that Lindy Markov was a part owner of the business, you will need to decide the worth of that business, and how to divide any assets and debts that came from the business, including several residences used by both parties. You will also be asked to determine some facts in dispute regarding a certain piece of paper which will be presented to you as Exhibit One.”
He moved into a general discussion of juror protocol: no discussion of the evidence until they retired to decide the case, no reading about the case or watching TV news for the duration, no independent research, keep an open mind until the time came to decide, don’t be prejudiced against the party because you don’t like anything about his or her attorney.
The jurors, in the box to the left of Nina, looked suitably impressed with the gravity of their responsibility, except for Sonny Ball, the tattooed warm body in the back row.
“Ms. Reilly, are you ready to proceed?”
“We are, Your Honor.”
“Do you wish to make an opening statement?”
“We do.” Nina rose, leaving her notes on the table. Her pastel suit glowed warmly under the lights. Her heels were a compromise between comfort and height, and her usually unconquerable long brown hair had surrendered to the ministrations of a local hairdresser who had smoothed and sprayed until it lay down and played dead.
But on her way up toward the podium from which she would speak to the jury, she put these and other such trivial concerns aside.
Standing the three feet from the jury box Genevieve insisted upon, Nina let her gaze sweep over each of the jurors in turn.
“The story you are about to hear is an old one. You’ve heard this before. We all have. A man and a woman meet, fall in love, and build a life. They share a warm and loving home. They create a business together. For twenty years, twenty satisfying years, they live together. Then, a sad thing happens. One of them falls out of love.”
Nina paused for emphasis, breaking her concentration long enough to see that the jurors were responding to her with the desired level of engrossed attention.
“It’s devastating to the one left behind. We can all imagine it, can’t we? All those years, those habits of a lifetime, the morning coffee together, the shared double bed, the welcoming hugs, the kisses good-bye . . . suddenly there are great big gaping holes. But these things happen. Good people get hurt. Nobody is to blame when love dies. Nobody is responsible for the terrible emptiness of that double bed.”
She lowered her head and put her hands behind her back Perry Mason–style, pacing a few steps before raising her eyes back to the jury box.
“No, no one is responsible for the loss of that loving relationship. Lindy Markov has suffered that loss, true. It is true that Mike Markov is engaged to a young woman who once worked for Lindy. But that is not why we are here in court today. Let’s be clear on that point. We aren’t here to talk about love. We’re here to talk about business. Business between lovers, maybe. A business both of them nurtured as another couple might nurture their child. But we’re talking about business, the kind of business that is based on a legally enforceable partnership agreement.
“In the testimony you will hear, you will learn that again and again, over twenty years, Lindy and Mike Markov said to each other, we’re in this business together. We’re in this for life. We share the good times and bad times. Whatever we have, we share. Whatever we owe, we share in that, too.
“They made mutual promises, ladies and gentlemen. Promises made, but not kept by one of them. The promises relating to their love—those can be broken, and never come before a jury. The law doesn’t protect that kind of promise.
“But, as you will hear, the law does protect a partner in a business enterprise when the other partner breaks his promise. Two people build a business with their sweat and their talent. They both put everything they have into it. They run it together for many years, with increasing success. And when the partnership ends, they each take their share. That’s what they do. It’s the only fair thing to do. Right? They each take their share.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s how it is under the law of the State of California.
“Yet in the case you’re about to hear, that’s not how it happ
ened.
“What you’ll hear from several witnesses, including both Lindy and Mike Markov, is that one of the partners took it all. Every square foot, every dime, every stick of furniture, all of it.
“Mike Markov did that. He took it all, the whole shebang, and he left Lindy with nothing. He even threw her out of the home she had lived in for years, leaving her with a horse and an old trailer out in the mountains.
“He kept—well, he kept quite a bit. Quite a bit. There will be several estimates of how much Mike and Lindy’s company, Markov Enterprises, was worth at the time they separated. Let me tell you a conservative figure as to what the business was worth.
“He kept around two hundred million dollars.”
She had built up to it well. Even the audience, to whom this was old news, heaved a collective gasp. Most of the jurors must have told the truth about not reading about the case in the papers because their mouths hung open. Juror Bob Binkley, the whipped-looking history teacher, straightened up from his slump and gripped the front rail. Nina looked straight at him and nodded. That’s right, Mr. Binkley, she tried to tell him with her eyes. This is big, this is huge. You’re doing something important here.
On the other hand, early on, Sonny Ball’s eyes had fixed on a spot somewhere between Nina and the jury box, and there his focus remained. Either he was mighty dense, didn’t care, or already knew about it.
“I know all of us—the lawyers, the clients, the courtroom personnel—appreciate your willingness to take time from your busy lives to render judgment in this case. It will be up to you to decide the ultimate facts. We’ll be asking you to decide, does Mike Markov take everything, the house on the lake, the business, the cars, the boat, the entire fruit of their very productive years together, while Lindy Markov doesn’t get brush, comb, toothpaste, or bobby pin?
“You’ll hear from the witnesses the whole story of the business, how Mike and Lindy started from nothing and how Markov Enterprises became a great success. You’ll hear that Lindy, while not formally married to Mike—”
Another look of astonishment from the jurors. Nina moved on, having broken that bad news as casually as she could.
“—was in every respect Mike’s equal partner in terms of responsibility and workload in the business for twenty years. This isn’t a story about a woman who supports a man from the home. This woman was at the office, at the plant, out there finding clients. We’ll show you that Lindy had as many ideas for new products as he did, and that she was as important to the company’s success as he was. She didn’t stay home and raise the children and give dinner parties. The business was their child.”
Nina paused so that the words would reverberate through the jurors’ minds.
“So what’s the problem? What issues make it necessary to bring this case to you? Well, there are two of them. First of all, Mr. Markov says that it all should belong to him now, because he put his name on everything. That’s what the testimony will show. He put his name on the company stock, on the home they lived in, on every major asset. Her name got left off. How did Mr. Markov explain that to Lindy?” Nina raised her eyebrows, looked expectantly at the jury. They didn’t seem to have a clue.
“He told her he wanted to avoid the red tape. He told her it didn’t matter whose name was on the certificates and the titles, because it was all half hers. He held title for both of them.
“Watch Mr. Markov when he testifies. You’ll see he’s a proud, old-fashioned man. He wanted to be the president, so that left her with the executive vice presidency. She wanted what he wanted. Nothing new there.” Nina gave juror Mrs. Grzegorek, the attractive older woman who worked at Mikasa, a tiny smile. Mrs. Grzegorek didn’t smile back.
“He wanted his name on the stock, and she went along with that, too. As she’ll testify, she never dreamed this would be used to try to take her share of the company.
“And there’s one other event in their long history together that you will hear about. You’ll learn that thirteen years ago Lindy signed a piece of paper that Mike asked her to sign. He had her label it: Separate Property Agreement.”
The expression on Cliff Wright’s face never changed, but his hands shifted in his lap. He knew exactly what that meant.
“Lindy signed it. She’ll tell you why. And I have to tell you, this is the one place in this case where love does enter in. She signed it because Mike said that if she signed it he’d marry her. The business was going down at that time and they were going through a difficult period in their personal lives.
“Lindy agreed. She signed the paper, carrying out her side of the deal. And Mike—well, you’ll hear that Mike went on a business trip. He didn’t marry her, didn’t carry out his side of the deal. And that piece of paper disappeared for thirteen years, until now. Lindy never got a copy. She assumed it had long since been discarded or destroyed.
“The judge will instruct you on the law regarding this type of agreement. You will be instructed that a gift or property given on the assumption that marriage will take place can be recovered by the giver if there is no marriage. That may not make much sense now, but it will. The testimony will make it clear that Mike didn’t marry Lindy. So when that piece of paper is discussed, I hope you’ll ask yourselves these questions: Did she promise to give Mike everything in consideration for his promise to marry her? Did he keep his promise? If not, then what did she get in return?”
“Objection!”
She went to the bench with Riesner and accepted a scolding from Milne for arguing the law in her opening statement.
Then, calm within herself and trying to inject the same calm certainty into her words, Nina added a few more important points and brought her opening statement to a close. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s up to you. I have talked with you, listened to you, and I believe you will be fair. Thank you.”
She could swear that, as she walked back toward her table, she caught the ever-so-slightest nod of approval from Milne. She decided she must have imagined it. She tried and failed to feel the jury’s vibes behind her.
Back at the table, Genevieve squeezed her arm, murmuring, “Excellent,” and Winston gave her an under-the-table, double thumbs-up.
Lindy looked at Mike, who looked pointedly away from her.
Looking debonair and confident, without a hair out of place, wearing his trademark half-grin, Jeff Riesner took the podium. With all the heavy baggage removed from his character, Nina realized a stranger might actually consider him attractive. He looked innocuous and cool up there, like a man without a bone to pick. That shiny polish on the surface was exactly what made him so successful in his profession. More than in almost any other profession, success in law depended on the right look, and Jeffrey Riesner had spent years cultivating it. The jurors waited to hear an opposite take on the same situation, and he basked in their attention.
“Let’s talk about the evidence,” he said. “In this case, we will have testimony from people, each with a point of view, each with a stake. Your job is to judge their credibility and weigh the value of what they say. You might feel from listening to all the witnesses that this is a complicated or confusing case. There is a lot of money involved, and this may make the case seem more complicated.
“But it’s not complicated. This case is simple, and comes simply down to black and white.
“Because there is also another kind of evidence. With this kind of evidence, there’s no point of view, there’s no stake, there’s no credibility problem. That evidence, ladies and gentlemen, consists of writings. We ask you to pay close attention to the written exhibits in this case, because they were prepared before there was any stake, any point of view. The writings we will introduce will tell you a very clear and straightforward story.
“First, you will learn that there is one written document that does not exist. That written document is a marriage certificate between Mike Markov and Lindy Markov. The two parties in this litigation never married. There is no community property, no automatic share
because of the relationship. No alimony. No sympathy money. There’s no marriage here. No one will show you a marriage certificate. Lindy Markov was Mike Markov’s girlfriend. They broke up. That’s what happened in their personal life.
“Second, we will show you a set of writings that prove that Lindy Markov was an employee of Markov Enterprises. You won’t just hear people talk about it. It’s simpler than that. You’re going to see her personnel file, the salary record, her job description. You’ll see she was paid fairly, she was given regular raises, she had an expense account. She was an executive with the company, and she had an agreement with the company that she would do certain work and in return she would be compensated. You’ll see it in writing, ladies and gentlemen, plain and clear.
“Third, you will see, in writing, who owns Markov Enterprises and a home here in Tahoe that is in issue in this case. It’s just as plain and just as clear. You’ll see the deed to the house, and you’ll see the owner’s name, Mike Markov. You’ll see the stock certificates that are accepted the world over as evidence of ownership. The name on the certificates is Mike Markov. No mystery, no complication.
“And fourth, last and most important of all, you will see another written document that reinforces and confirms the other written documents. That document is called a separate property agreement. You will be able to read it for yourselves and see the plain language of this agreement. You will see that the agreement states that Lindy Markov has no claim to Mike Markov’s property, and he has no claim to hers. It’s right there. In writing, as simple as can be. What it does not state“—he paused for emphasis, chopping the air with his hand—”is that Mike agreed to marry Lindy. That’s just not there.
“So why are you here in court today, taking precious time from your lives to act as a jury? Let me try to frame what Lindy Markov is claiming she will show. Besides the hugs and the kisses and the obfusc—”
BREACH OF PROMISE Page 20
