Sideswiped: Book One in the Matt Blake legal thriller series

by Russell Moran

  The Harold Morgan deposition was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon, probably the most important event in the Spellman case so far. I was busy going over my notes, jotting down the questions I would ask. I planned to get together with Woody and Bennie later in the day.

  At noon, Barbara called on my intercom. “Diana Spellman is here to see you, Matt. I don’t have her down as an appointment. She said she just wants to see you.”

  I love the sound of that—she just wants to see you.

  “No problem, Barb, please show her in.”

  Diana walked in and sat at the table across from me. She didn’t stop first to kiss me, as she’s done before. She just sat down.

  Diana has a face that’s always about to smile. It’s not like a TV traffic reporter chick who flashes her bright teeth at you. Diana just has a face that’s always ready to break out in happiness, like the smile is already in there and just needs a reason to come out. But she wasn’t smiling. She looked serious about something.

  “There’s something I have to say, Matt, and it’s important. There’s something I want to be perfectly clear about.”

  “What is it, Diana?” I swallowed hard. I had no idea what she could be talking about, but her serious expression gave me a knot in my stomach.

  “I love you, Matt. I drop dead, friggin love you. After Saturday night I feel like I’ve known you all my life. I’m no longer just attracted to you. I am wild, crazy in love with you.”

  Then she smiled. I could swear that her pretty eyes actually sparkled.

  “I just wanted to drop by and share that information,” she said chirpily, reaching across the table and grasping my hand.

  I glanced out the window. It had stopped raining, the clouds parted, and the sun had begun to shine.

  “Does ‘I love you, too’ sound lame?” I said.

  “No it doesn’t. It sounds wonderful.”

  “In that case, I love you too, Diana. I’m totally in love with you.”

  “Please stand up, Matt.”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “I want to hug you.”

  We stood and wrapped our arms around each other. We kissed, a kiss that I thought would never end, not that I wanted it to.

  “Why don’t you stop by after work, Matt?” Diana said, breathing heavily. “I want you to taste my new cioppino recipe.”

  “Can I bring anything?”

  “Yeah. How about an overnight bag?”

  Chapter 32

  After Diana left, I sat and waited for Ben and Woody to come in to talk about the Morgan deposition, the most important event of the Spellman case thus far. Wednesday, two days from now, I’d depose the stunt-car-driving defendant, Harold Morgan himself. But I felt like I was dreaming. The scent of Diana’s perfume still lingered. Diana, the woman I love, the woman who loves me.

  “You look distracted, Matt,” said Bennie. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sure, I’m fine. Why?”

  “Because you’re wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.”

  “I noticed that too,” said Woody, laughing.

  “Hey guys, I’m good to go. Let’s talk about Wednesday the big day. As you know, because they’ve adjourned this deposition six times, I brought a motion and got a court order. The deposition is ordered by a judge. They can’t adjourn it.”

  “But here’s what’s freaking me out, guys,” said Woody. “There’s a growing mountain of evidence that Morgan acted negligently. We have witness after witness who testified that they saw him on the cell phone, about as solid evidence as you can imagine. So what are we looking for? What are you looking for, Matt?”

  “You’re right, Woody. They’ve done everything but admit negligence. When I deposed that guy McDougald and defense counsel didn’t even ask a question, that nailed it for me. What I’m looking for in the Morgan deposition is some evidence for the Woody Donovan theory, the theory that we may be dealing with a murder. I’m going fishing for evidence. I’m going to ask this guy what he eats for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I also want to know if there’s any relationship whatsoever between Harold Morgan and the eyewitnesses. Wednesday’s deposition is going to happen, and I’ve got a court order that says so.”

  We broke for lunch at noon. The three of us sat in a restaurant on State Street and reviewed the file again, as if we didn’t know it by heart already. Woody’s phone rang. He got up to walk into a hallway to take the call. Woody’s polite like that. He was gone for about five minutes, when he walked back to the table and sat down with a thud.

  “You look pale, Woody,” said Ben.

  “Wednesday’s deposition isn’t going to happen, court order or not. That call was from a friend of mine at the Chicago Police Department. Harold Morgan was murdered in his apartment three hours ago.”

  The three of us sat for a couple of minutes in stunned silence.

  “Anybody in a mood to overstate the obvious?” I said.

  “This was the final adjournment,” said Woody. “It’s painfully clear that somebody didn’t want Mr. Stunt Car Driver to talk to us.”

  “What were the circumstances of the killing, Woody? Did your guy give you any details?”

  “Yeah, the apartment looked like a typical burglary scene, totally ransacked. That’s normal procedure in a planned murder. Make it look like a burglary to throw detectives off the scent of something else. They found his body in the kitchen with a single bullet wound to the back of his head. This was a hit.”

  “We’ve already been bombarded with a ton evidence of negligence,” I said, “enough to generate an $8 million offer. But now, thanks to somebody, we’ll never get any evidence of intentionality from the defendant himself. So our theory is that the defendant murdered James Spellman, and now somebody took out a hit on him. Something the fuck is going on, and we have no idea what.”

  “Matt, you mentioned that you discussed Woody’s theory with Diana Spellman,” said Bennie. “Do you think she can give us something to go on?”

  “Absolutely. Diana’s a pro when it comes to research. Hey, she’s a PhD candidate at the University of Chicago. She’s been pouring over Jim Spellman’s computer files, and she’s going to discuss her findings with us on Friday. She has no classes that day.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, Matt,” said Bennie, “you and Diana Spellman seem to be developing a close working relationship. I commend you on your diligent client contact.”

  “Well, as you guys know, I’ll never lie to you. I’m in love with Diana Spellman and she’s in love with me. We’ve both gone through similar shit in our lives, and we were drawn to each other. Hey, it’s not unethical, so I don’t give a rat’s ass what anybody thinks. I am totally fucking in love.”

  Woody stood up to leave. He had an appointment to interview a witness on another case. He walked over to me and put me in a friendly head-lock. “Way to go, Matt. That lady’s a doll.” Bennie and I sat alone at the table.

  “Matt, what you just said about you and Diana Spellman makes me want to cheer. After your recent battle with drugs and booze, I think you need nothing more than a good woman.”

  “It’s even better than that, Bennie. She’s been through rehab just like me. She had a two-year battle with booze and heroin. Diana is also a graduate of Jake Monahan’s institute.”

  Bennie slapped his hand on the table.

  “Matt, that’s great, that’s just fucking wonderful. So you’re not dating a potential drinking buddy.”

  “Bennie, the potential is always there, as you well know. But she and I are committed to not fucking up our lives again. She just texted me and I noticed she’s even adopted my new title after her name, ‘CAS’ – Clean and Sober.”

  Bennie gave me a high five.

  Chapter 33

  Even though our case had taken on a weird turn, to say the least, I wasn’t about to let it mess with my head or interfere with my date with Diana that evening. It wasn’t just a date with Diana. It was now officially a date with the
woman I love, a date with the woman who loves me. One thing they drilled into our minds at the Monahan Institute was not to let the surprises of life throw you. So the defendant, our key witness in the Spellman case, has been murdered. Just take it and move on. Shit happens.

  I arrived at Diana’s at 6:30. Before getting out of my car, I reached into the glove compartment and took out a jar of hair mousse. I put a dab on the front of my hair and shaped it into a tall, pointy spike. I then reached for some heavy-duty hair spray that I bought that afternoon, and gave my scalp a good coating. I looked into the mirror and cracked up. I looked just like the

  Saturday Night Live character from the 1990s, Ed Grimley, “I must say.”

  Diana opened the door and staggered back, laughing hysterically. She actually bent over she was laughing so hard.

  “Matt, I can’t believe it. Your hair has an erection.”

  “That’s because I’ve been thinking about you, I must say.”

  She hugged me, but this time she didn’t give my hair a flip.

  “Go wash that crap off your wonderful hair so I can play with it. I’ll heat up the cioppino. Would you like a Perrier?”

  “Yes, but that’s not all I want.”

  She put both of her hands on my chest.

  “You know, I’ve always found that cioppino tastes better after exercise,” she said, as she began to unbutton her blouse.

  “I could use a good workout,” I said, as I held her close to me.

  “My goodness, I can feel your need for a workout. Wow, I can feel it big time. You look like you’ve had a stressful day at the office, hon. Why don’t you take a nice shower? Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about a shower combined with a workout? I’ll help you. And I’ll wash that gook out of your wonderful hair.”

  We walked into the large bathroom, and we helped each other out of our clothes. It had been a long time since I was “with” a woman. I vaguely recall one time with some drunk chick, but I can’t remember her name, or where we were. After she was naked, Diana wrapped her arms around me and we held each other. Diana’s body was amazingly firm and curvaceous, kept in beautiful shape by her fitness routines. I was glad that I was in good physical shape too, otherwise my heart would have pounded out of my chest.

  “Let me give you a shampoo,” she said as we stepped into the shower stall.

  “Make it fast, hon. We have other things to do.”

  After shampooing the gook out of my hair, she reached down and held me with both hands.

  “I notice that you’re at rigid attention, honey. Is that a Marine thing?”

  “That’s an ‘I-can’t-wait-for-what’s-next thing,’ ” I said.

  We began an evening of heaven.

  ***

  We lay still, wide awake, but physically spent, at least for the time being. Diana clung to me, her firm breasts against the side of my chest.

  I nuzzled Diana’s neck. “I love you, honey, more than you can imagine.” She shifted her body, wrapping both arms around my neck.

  “Hey, Matt. I think we expended enough calories to reward ourselves with some fat-free ice cream.”

  She got up and put her robe on. I joined her in the kitchen. We sat across from each other at the table, and enjoyed our ice cream.

  “So tell me all about the big deposition that’s coming up, honey. Are you ready for it?”

  Shit, I knew this was coming. Obviously I couldn’t keep the news from her. But I was glad we got in some serious love-making before discussing the big topic.

  “Morgan’s dead, Diana. He was murdered this morning in his apartment. Our key witness and number one defendant is silenced.”

  Diana just sat and stared at me, her pretty blue eyes like saucers.

  “I hate to say that I feel almost good that the prick was killed, Matt. But what does this mean for the case?”

  “We all think that the case will be ready to settle soon. Without Morgan, it really doesn’t make much sense going to trial. But it means something else, something that scares me.”

  “Scares you? What do you mean, honey?”

  “I’m worried about you. Whoever broke into your apartment and stole Jim’s hard drive, knows that you know something. We think that Morgan was killed to shut him up. We have no idea who’s involved in this, but whoever they are, they play rough. I’ll feel a lot better about this when we bring law enforcement into this case.”

  “Let’s take this one day at a time, as they taught us in rehab, Matt. Right now, let’s just think about you and me.” As she said that she stretched her leg out under the table, put her foot between my legs, and gently wiggled her toes. I stroked her pretty little foot.

  “Okay,” I said. “Enough calories. Let’s take up where we left off.”

  She stood and dropped her robe to the kitchen floor. Is it me, or is there something about a naked woman standing in a kitchen? I stood and dropped mine too. We wrapped our arms around each other.

  “I can feel that you’re at attention again, captain. Let’s go to the bedroom so I can do something about that.”

  Our wonderful evening continued, with no further discussion of the Morgan murder.

  Chapter 34

  On Thursday I met with my father and Bill in dad’s office to bring them up to date on the increasingly bizarre Spellman case.

  “Before we get into details on the Spellman case, Matt,” my father said, “it’s an open secret around here that you and our client have grown, shall we say, close.”

  “Close?” I said. “I’m totally in love with the woman, and she’s in love with me. I’ve thought a lot about this, dad, and I’m convinced there’s no ethical issue. Diana’s an accomplished woman, a scholar who’s no kid. This isn’t some airhead chick.”

  “I got it, Matt, believe me. I couldn’t be happier that you found such a terrific lady. I talked to your mom about it and she’s delighted too. All I’m suggesting is that you please be discreet.”

  “Of course, dad, I know how to be discreet, especially in the office. But on that subject, I notice that you have the most comfortable couch in the firm. You wouldn’t mind if I ask you to vacate your office occasionally so that Diana and I can do some serious preparation of her case.”

  Dad and Bill cracked up.

  “Okay, Matt. Just no scratch marks on the leather, please.”

  “So where the hell are we with this strange case?” asked Bill Randolph, changing the subject.

  “Woody, Bennie, and I have been scratching our heads on this case, as you guys know. Witness after witness has given us what we usually look for, great evidence of negligence. Some of the best evidence came from the defendant himself, who was murdered yesterday. Even though I never deposed him, we have excellent statements from the guy in his police report. The bottom line is this. Woody is convinced that the collision was not a result of negligence, but was intentional. We’ve discussed the information, including the fact that the dead defendant was a famous stunt car driver and his vehicle was tricked out like an army tank, even though he was a salesman who carried around nothing more than non-explosive oil additives. Woody thinks that Harold Morgan murdered James Spellman. And he’s got me convinced that it’s at least a strong possibility.”

  “But we have no idea what his motive could have been,” said Bill. “I agree that there’s a lot of interesting evidence that points that way, but we don’t know why.”

  “Diana is searching through all of her late husband’s computer files. She’s a diligent researcher and knows what she’s doing. Diana will meet with Ben, Woody, and me tomorrow to let us know what, if anything, she’s found so far.”

  “Here’s my take on this,” said my father. “I think we should try to get them up to $12 million and settle the damn thing. Then we’ll turn the file over to the State’s Attorney’s Office to investigate the possible criminal matter. Morgan’s murder makes me think this may start to become urgent. I want to pass this idea by Diana when she’s here tomorrow. I know you’re assigned to the
case, Matt, but under the circumstances I think it’s more appropriate for me to discuss settlement with her. You guys agree?”

  “My only concern is that we don’t have any compelling evidence yet,” I said, “despite Woody’s background work. What if the State’s Attorney doesn’t buy it? I’d like to suggest that we dig a little deeper so we can present the prosecutor with a case he thinks he can win.”

  “And we should discuss what you just said with Diana,” my father said. “She’s the plaintiff, and she’s in the driver’s seat. I just want to raise the idea with her. You do make a good point that a criminal investigation hasn’t matured yet. Shit, we don’t have a clue who may be involved. Taking Woody’s theory in a natural direction, I doubt that Morgan acted on his own. It seems that he may have been just a hit man.”

  “Naturally I’ve told Diana about our suspicions involving an intentional act,” I said. “She and her late husband had a great relationship, and she freaked out over the idea that he may have been murdered. If there’s evidence of James Spellman’s murder, she’ll want to pursue it.”

  “And I’m sure that she’ll give her full cooperation to the prosecutor on the criminal suspicions,” Bill Randolph said.

  “When you’re done talking to her tomorrow, dad, can we borrow your office?”

  “Get out of here, wiseass,” my father said, laughing.

  Chapter 35

  Diana walked into my office a few minutes before our scheduled meeting with Ben and Woody. We kissed, still remembering our evening together just two days before.

  “Cup of coffee, hon?” I said.

  “Actually, I wouldn’t mind some more cioppino.”

  Time for another hug.

  “How about tonight?” I said.

  “If we have to wait that long, I suppose. Hey, leave off the pomade on your wonderful hair, okay?”

  ***