Show No Fear

by Perri O'shaughnessy

  “You’ve lost heart,” Nina said. “Did you just lose a case, by any chance?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “I saw you like this after the Vasconcellos appeal was dismissed.”

  “This isn’t about a case.” He turned abruptly and started walking up the hill.

  She caught up with him, took his arm. “Things aren’t going well with Remy?”

  “I wouldn’t throw away a career because of a bad love affair. That would be beyond stupid.”

  Nina bit her tongue. All she could think in the spasm of selfish joy that followed was, Jack’s free. His drawn face showed the extent of his suffering, and she cautioned herself. He needed a kind listener, not a friend with an agenda.

  “You’ve lost heart,” Nina repeated. The words seemed to strike Jack this time. He let out a mirthless chuckle. “Okay. I’ve lost heart in every damn thing.”

  “Good time not to make career changes.”

  “Can I crash my car then?” They walked back up the hill, and Jack let it out, and Nina listened.

  Nina spent another night lying on her back looking at the shadows her night-light cast on the walls. In the next room, Bob, wearing footie pajamas, snored the way kids do, softly. Her brain moved into a new gear, as if the initial shock of her mother’s death had worn off and she could think again. She thought, how had this happened to her mother and why? Who could have done this to her mother? What could be more cruel than a life obliterated at the bottom of a cliff? Ginny had been so frail, so ill! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Nina sat up in bed. She pulled a pad of paper and a Sharpie into her lap and made notes. “Think like a lawyer!” Professor Meacham seemed to say loudly, interrupting the turmoil in her mind.

  First of all, admit her mother, like Nina, had an obdurate streak. Work from there.

  Years ago, they had plans to go to Hawaii for Christmas. Harlan had objected. He had too much work. Ginny peacefully acquiesced to his arguments, bought tickets, packed his bag, and put him on the plane with the family before he had a chance to say boo. As a teenager, Nina had run into that sweet deceit more than once. Her mother didn’t argue. She won battles, sometimes in an underhanded way. Yet, she had lost this final war and she was dead. Who was her enemy?

  Paul had let Nina read Dr. Wu’s statement in the police reports. At lunch Jack had told her Wu was unlicensed, about to be shut down, and likely, prosecuted. Wu talked about the Buddha, and at the same time he hurt people who came to him, trusting and sick. He did it all for money.

  Could the acupuncturist have done this over money? She didn’t know enough yet. But she knew he had a motive.

  She wanted it to be Wu because he was guilty of terrible things. He was a vicious man who preyed on weak people, a liar, a man who would go to great lengths to avoid damage to his reputation. Richard had been his lawyer. Her mother wanted to sue him. The case had to be the connection between the two deaths.

  She doodled a cross and a Buddha figure. Made a connecting line and thought some more.

  Then she thought of her father, Harlan. She recalled dramatic scenes between her parents, memorable, awful moments that were an indelible part of every childhood. Her father had loved her mother once. But he was like another man now, one he called “new” in the old sense of the word, not necessarily improved. And violence had been there. And money was a real issue there. He cared too much about money. She knew it was wrong to hold it against him; he was no hypocrite and this was something to admire in him. The thought that her father might be involved in some way shook her. Even though she would never forgive Harlan for hurting her mother, she couldn’t help loving him.

  And what about Richard? Was anyone sad for him? Bob no longer had a father. The results of the paternity tests had still not come in, and she couldn’t help feeling relieved that Richard was dead, out of the picture. If he had lived, could he have taken Bob? His death—ah, might as well admit it—had been a relief.

  No, she couldn’t let herself think that about Bob’s father.

  She decided to call Richard’s associate, Perry Tompkins, in the morning. Time to get the custody case dismissed.

  She went to the kitchen with its awful overhead light. Two in the morning, when all insights became suspect. She popped a diet orange drink, turned off the light, and walked to her room.

  Jack believed people were capable of anything. Could he possibly suspect she was involved? Was there any possibility for Eros in this Thanatos-ridden spinning globe that housed them all briefly?

  Two a.m. thoughts for sure.

  Paul thought she knew something. She had sensed it immediately in the way he had maintained a clinical distance since the deaths.

  Did she know something? Every once in a while she had the feeling if she could just close her eyes and for once see nothing, just darkness, an answer would leap at her. Let a thought come, don’t force it. She thought about how Paul had talked, how he had regarded her, and the picture of him merged with the confusion in her mind, ending with an image of herself in the stormy waves off Asilomar Point, swimming furiously, heading straight out to sea, toward a blurry figure on the horizon, dry, serene, gloating.

  CHAPTER 39

  AT SEVEN THIRTY IN THE MORNING, THE SKY LIT A PALE GRAY, Paul drank a second double espresso Nina had made for him. He stretched out his legs and sighed.

  “You look tired,” she said. He looked the way she felt.

  “I want to ask you something about Matt. Matt told us that he came to meet you at Bob’s nursery school one afternoon in September and witnessed an altercation between you and your ex.”

  “Richard?”

  “He says he was ready to jump right in if the guy ever really hurt you, but that he decided then he would just bide his time.”

  “Matt was watching from the bushes?”

  “That’s what he told me.”

  Nina let out a short laugh. “He loved spying on me when we were little. But, Paul, don’t imagine he has anything to do with Richard’s murder. He doesn’t.”

  “We have to look into it. It’s not impossible, though I hate saying this to you. Maybe he wanted to protect you and Bob from Filsen?”

  “He has a good heart, but he’s young and screwed up at the moment. He couldn’t protect a fly.”

  “He also told us that your mother seemed not averse to the idea of a merciful death, one that she would decide on for herself. Did she ever imply that?”

  “Well, yes, but—my mother did not kill herself. I will never believe that.”

  “Maybe…she asked for help? Maybe Matt wanted to help her in the only way he knew how.”

  “By pushing her off a cliff, forcing her to drop groceries and grab a knife? I know you have to examine all the possibilities, but surely not to the point of absurdity?”

  “Maybe they planned it together.”

  “Maybe you are way off course. Don’t even suggest that my little brother killed our mother or I’ll lose all respect for you. She did everything for him, sacrificed her time and money, placed utter faith in him. He loved her. He would never, ever, harm her.”

  Paul directed his hazel eyes into Nina’s brown ones. “Tell me more about you and Filsen. Did you and Matt ever discuss Filsen?”

  “No.”

  “What about you and your mother?”

  She pulled her sweater tightly around herself and frowned.

  “Did you?”

  “She wouldn’t have said anything to Matt.”

  “When did you tell her?”

  “I never confided much in my mother, especially lately, with her feeling so rotten all the time.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But after Richard cornered me at Bob’s preschool and Perry served me with papers about custody and visitation, we had a birthday party for Matt at my mom’s house. That’s when I told her what happened. That Richard wanted a DNA test, joint custody, and visitation at the very least.”

  “What did your mother say?”

  “She said forget he ever h
ad anything to do with our lives and especially with Bob’s. That Richard didn’t have a hope of winning a custody battle. To concentrate on the future. That I was a good mother.”

  “Did she talk about the malpractice claim?”

  “She hoped the malpractice case would bring in some money to help me and Matt. She didn’t want to be a burden. But it wasn’t all about money. Once she realized what Dr. Wu did to her, I think she saw this as a matter of principle.”

  “Were you a witness to the argument between your parents that landed your mother in the hospital some years ago?”

  Nina looked down. “You know about that?” she said in a low voice. “No. I was at school. My father told me about it, about how he and my mother had a bad fight. Mom threw a pan at Dad, in self-defense probably. Dad hauled off and hit her and cracked her jaw. Then Matt came in and helped Mom. The police came and charged my mother with assault, can you believe it? Dad was charged, too. Everything was dropped eventually. Oh, no. This just can’t be. Now you’re accusing my father of killing my mother?”

  Nina was still breathing hard. “My father would never kill my mother. My brother would never do such a thing either. I’m not sure I can stand to talk with you anymore right now, Paul.”

  “It’s my—”

  “I suppose in your professional capacity you have to consider whether I did it, killed Richard at least. And my only alibi is a four-year-old boy.”

  “Did you kill him, Nina?”

  Nina’s jaw dropped.

  “Did you? You have a very strong motive. Tell me if you did and I will help you with all this. I mean it, Nina, tell me right now.”

  “No!”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  Nina collected herself. “Really? You really don’t suspect me?”

  “Guess I know a few things about you. You know how to be patient. You aren’t the impulsive type.”

  Nina stretched her arms above her head, intertwined her fingers. Paul couldn’t help admiring the result. “You’re wrong. I’m just as impulsive as Matt. But I’m willing to accept that you have a hunch.”

  “I don’t believe in hunches, just facts. Besides, I’m quite sure you would not hurt your mother, and I think these two deaths are connected.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “Anyway. What did you want to know?”

  “Your assessment of your mother’s claim against the acupuncturist.”

  “All right. I thought at first she had a strong case. Clear-cut right and wrong, that she would have all kinds of sympathy, too, perfect material for a jury trial if it came to that. And with Remy trying the case, well, I just think when Wu took the stand, he would have looked absolutely guilty as hell. He was guilty as hell. Of something.” Nina twisted the fringed end of her sweater. “But Remy realized we had a problem with the facts. We had no proof that Mom had been treated with acupuncture, no receipts, nothing. The punctures—they would have been so tiny, and Mom had the—the infection. They had a witness who would call Mom a liar.”

  “You can’t pursue this thing legally now?”

  “No. We can’t get damages for my mom’s pain and suffering, and she was the main witness. For lots of legal reasons, a death of a party brings an end to a malpractice matter. I hope you’re looking hard at Dr. Wu. I keep thinking he’s the only person I can imagine who might hate my mother. Maybe he hated his lawyer, too, who knows? I’m doing a little digging myself.”

  “Stay out of this investigation, Nina.”

  “Paul, let me tell you something. You lack bedside manners. You could help people relax and be more—I don’t know, chat a little first, loosen them up, then sound casual when you ask the honking questions.”

  “What makes you such an expert on police interrogation techniques?” He was smiling. He had a good smile, full-out, crinkly at the eyes. But he was hard to read.

  And now Jack was free.

  “I took a class last spring on Trial Psychology. How to approach witnesses at trial, for instance.”

  “You find me stiff? Ha-ha, no pun intended.”

  “Well, I know you a little, Paul. Your normal manner would work better.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take that suggestion to heart.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Meantime, where were you November twenty-sixth? Let’s go over it again.”

  Nina hesitated. “Typical. Monday. I stayed home with Bob in the morning. I had a test that night and needed to study. I wasn’t at work that afternoon. I went to the law library at the courthouse on Aguajito. The clerk wasn’t around. I didn’t see anybody I knew.” She gave him the details and he marked them down, but she knew her movements couldn’t be verified. She had no alibi for the day her mother had died.

  “Think back to Thanksgiving Day, November twenty-second,” Paul said, “that morning.”

  The morning Richard had been shot. “Slept until Bob woke me up, hungry, around seven a.m. I called Matt. Prepared a couple of vegetable dishes. Got ready to go. From five o’clock on, Bob and I spent the day at Mom’s. We helped with dinner. Matt called me right before I left my house.”

  “Was Matt at your mother’s when you arrived?”

  “Not till—”

  “Go on.”

  “He came not long after us. I’m not sure what time. Not long.”

  “It would help if you knew what time Matt arrived.”

  “I don’t remember.” Nina jumped up. “Sorry, I’m out of time. The day beginneth.”

  Nina changed out of her sweat suit and into clean cotton pants. She filled Bob’s backpack with lunch, a blanket, and a bear. She pulled him away from the television and washed the cereal off his face. She put dishes into the dishwasher and considered starting a load of laundry, deciding it would have to wait one more day. After dropping Bob off at preschool, she drove to work.

  Her desk, usually buried under piles, sat empty, accusing. She buzzed Jack, who did not answer, then stopped by Remy’s office. Remy stood in front of a case full of books searching for something, mumbling something. Nina waited for her to finish.

  “You talk to yourself, too?”

  Remy turned and saw Nina. With a small smile, she closed a book. “I think out loud. The trial yesterday got continued to next March. Typical.”

  “Do you have work for me, Remy? I know you’re trying to wrap up a lot of cases.”

  “I sure do. I’m going to dump most of my cases on Jack, but you can help by organizing some of these files. I’m desperate for breathing space. After I clean up here I take off for Hawaii for a couple of weeks, right after the Christmas party.”

  “I’m going to miss you. I’ve learned an awful lot from you.”

  Remy said, “Remember, four-inch heels are a girl’s best friend. You’ll be seeing me in court, Nina. I know you’re going to make it.”

  Nina had a new realization. Not having Remy around anymore would spell major changes to the firm. With Klaus getting on, Jack threatening to quit, and Remy leaving, who exactly did that leave? Louis, Nina, and the secretaries. The office would have to be reconstituted. Life is flux, the old Greek philosopher had said. But how much flux could she stand?

  “Hey, here’s a mystery,” Remy called out a moment later. Nina stuck her head back through the door. “I reviewed the Davidson Marital Settlement Agreement. Some of the attachments are missing.” She handed the file to Nina. “See if you can track down the rest of the dissolution papers.”

  Nina located them buried on Jack’s desk with a note from Remy asking him to take a look at them. When Nina finished her required hours for the day, she started typing a draft for schoolwork onto the computer. She ran out of time before finishing, so she saved the file and grabbed her purse. Jack came in before she left, leaving files with handwritten instructions neatly stacked on her desk. She saw him swing into Remy’s office and heard his casual invitation to dinner. She couldn’t hear Remy’s reply. When she left, she heard a door slam in Remy’s office.

  Unfair of her, but s
he hoped it was Remy slamming it in Jack’s face.

  CHAPTER 40

  WILLS AND ESTATES, THE OLD-TIMERS STILL CALLED IT, A deadly subject for law students, the lame joke about deadliness being only an introduction for the most settled, the most precedent-laden, most sedentary subject in law school. Nina knew that in the ancient past of fifty years ago, women law professors were caged in this back-office legal specialty, drafting wills and trusts, never seeing daylight from solstice to solstice. They coddled the elderly and soothed the distraught families when the loved one passed away, leaving the money to the wrong person or charity or to the cat.

  The paperwork was detail-oriented, the payment preset, and the opportunity to make new law almost nonexistent.

  Residual resentment still kept many women lawyers from going into this specialty. You might as well be a mummy, preserved in aspic or whatever the Egyptian priests had used.

  Nina had no intention of enjoying this class, but Tom Cerruti, a lawyer in his forties who maintained an intriguing Italian stubble, had also been thinking about these things. He had announced during the first class in September that estate planning could be sexy—which had gotten him a big laugh from the fifty exhausted students taking his night class—and he had set out to prove it with the cases he chose for the class to study.

  He practiced law and ran marathons. He flew down to Rio every February for Carnaval. He liked fly-fishing in Oregon and was a fervent surfer. Every woman in the class had looked at him at least once as a potential lover, but he never dated students. He was a wise man as well as an entertainer.