CHAPTER FOUR
''She just wasn't worth talking about, sweetie.''
Here was a new twist; Louise throwing endearments at Kathleen like stones as they stood in the ladies room in the Los Angeles courthouse.
''Lionel had remarried and you didn't think that was important? You've told me every stupid little thing I didn't need to know a hundred times. In all that time, don't you think mentioning a new wife might have been something I would find interesting?''
Kathleen controlled herself admirably considering the fine line Louise was walking.
''My problem was with Lionel and my part of his money.'' She jerked her head in the general direction of the hall where the little lady had been shooed by Lionel's brother and the attorney. ''She's a nothing, sweetheart. I don't deal with nothings. I learned my lesson with Lionel. He turned out to be a big fat, sensitive zero. Looking at her makes me sick. It only goes to show how right I was about him. He could have had me. He could have made me happy, and I would have given him everything. But we get divorced and he goes to that wimpy little dishrag. It's insulting.''
Kathleen paced behind as Louise took her own sweet time touching up an already horrendous make-up job. Kathleen wished she had the guts to tell Louise that paint-by-numbers did not make a masterpiece just as slight of build and soft of voice does not a dishrag make.
Then she caught sight of herself in the mirror and looked away just as quickly. She couldn't lie to herself. No matter how well drawn the mask, it was still painted on. Louise hadn't offered the information, but then again Kathleen hadn't asked.
''Look Louise, you hired me to -.''
''I hired Gerry, honey.'' She flicked at her eyelash and Kathleen's face burned as red as the lace bra that peeked from under Louise's turquoise top. Louise had met her mark, she'd hit below the belt.
''You hired O'Doul & Associates. For the time being, I am the associate and Gerry assigned me to your case because he knew I could handle it.'' Kathleen stopped pacing and took her share of the blame. ''I should have stuck with my original gut feeling and advised you not to pursue this matter.'' Louise raised a well plucked eyebrow and Kathleen's guilt trip was over. ''As a woman I should have told you I thought you were greedy and ungrateful.''
''But you didn't, did you?''
Louise was done. She turned around slowly and planted her flat behind on the square sink. An incredible amount of cleavage heaved toward Kathleen as Louise Booker crossed her arms. The red lace was now well hidden. ''Okay, Sister Kathleen, let's talk.''
''We've talked enough. If you won't give me information that will help then I don't know what you want to talk about.''
''Sure you do, honey. Let's lay our cards on the table, clear the air, bare our breasts.'' Louise chuckled wickedly but her amusement didn't last as long as Kathleen's embarrassment. ''I gave you plenty of chance to do that these last few weeks. From the minute Gerry joined us at the hip, I was ready to give you the benefit of the doubt. I figured if the old man thought you had it then you did. But what I saw that first day, and what I saw in that courtroom, just proved what I figured out the first time I laid eyes on you. You're an okay package, and Gerry O'Doul may be your uncle, but you haven't got half the balls, or the brains, he has.''
''If that is meant to shock me, you're wasting your breath.''
''I don't want to shock you. I want to clue you in so you don't go on thinking you're cut out for the big leagues.'' The door opened. Both women looked toward the young black woman who did a double take at Louise, then hurried into a stall. Kathleen moved closer, but Louise didn't care who heard her. ''I know what I want. I figured, if nothing else, you'd do your best to please Gerry and get it for me. Or maybe you'd try your hardest because you had some pride. But now you're trying to weasel out of your responsibility by telling me it's my fault you're not going to win. Hey, where were you when I was talking? I gave you what I had, and you didn't even do me the courtesy of asking me questions. We lost because of you.''
They heard the toilette flush and the stall door opened just as Louise wrapped up.
''Baby, all was lost long before that little broad showed up. You look good in your own way, but get you out there in the ring and they KO you without lifting a finger. You don't have style. You don't have a mouth on you. You're not even quick on your feet. Your arguments sounded like a grocery list. You got all quiet when you should have stood up for me. I had to try and save myself in there. So I'll just go on back to Gerry, tell him he takes this thing on or I take my business somewhere else. I believe in this. I need an attorney who does, too.''
''It has nothing to do with faith. What I needed was a case with merit,'' Kathleen muttered.
''A good lawyer doesn't need merit. They need brains and you had enough time before this hearing to use yours. Gerry didn't need to know about that woman to get me the insurance policy; you shouldn't have needed to know about her to get me the benefits. Admit it, that mouse doesn't mean anything.''
Louise was wrong, Kathleen was sure, but she wasn't exactly sure why. Kathleen turned on her heel, pretending nature called, and walked into a stall. She locked the door and sat down on the stool, fully dressed, to think.
When the answer came to her, Kathleen flung open the door triumphantly, forgetting to pretend she had gone into the stall for any other reason than to hide.
''Of course it's important. She wants to give. . .'' Kathleen looked right, ''. . .you,'' she looked left, ''. . .everything.'' Triumph turned to defeat. Louise Booker was gone. Resigned, Kathleen hitched her briefcase and followed her client. ''The woman wants to hand over the estate. We probably wouldn't even be here if we knew that.''
In the hall Kathleen didn't see Louise but she spied the second Mrs. Booker halfway down the very, very long hall. Kathleen started toward Lionel's lady who seemed to be trying to argue with Lionel's brother. Her tiny hands moved quickly: his expression was earnest and frustrated. No matter how benevolent her opponent, the woman was obviously loosing the battle.
Kathleen's steps quickened when the argument suddenly intensified. The man was angry and Alice in Wonderland was hanging her head, poking desperately at the elevator button as she cried. Kathleen's pace quickened along with her pulse. That poor woman was agitated to the point of physical distress. She was - fearful. Yes, fear. That meant there was more here than met the eye. High emotion had no place in a simple disposition of an insignificant estate.
Kathleen almost ran as the elevator doors started to open. The blond haired woman turned. The man took her arm only to release it when she shrunk from him in horror. Lionel's brother backed away. One hand went to his brow, the other to his hip, his arm akimbo. The regular Joe was back and he wasn't as intimidating as Kathleen had imagined a moment ago. Mrs. Booker's body was now framed by the closing steel. With the thrill of optical illusion, it seemed as if those doors were pushing her tiny body together, compressing her until soon there would be nothing left. If that happened, Kathleen would never know what there was in this estate that was worth a threat, a fight and a great deal of fear.
''Wait!''
Kathleen's arm was raised and her breath was tight in her chest. She sprinted the last few steps but she was too late. The door closed. The woman was gone. She turned to Lionel's brother who was simultaneously turning away from her.
''I needed to talk to her.'' Kathleen said to his back. She scooted around so that she came parallel with him. ''Is she all right?''
He stopped, hands in his pockets. His jacket didn't fit well. It wasn't expensive. His face was long, his nose a bit too short to balance the eyes and lips. He looked at Kathleen with little interest. He'd been around lawyers too long now to really believe she was worried.
''She's fine, I'm sure. She's a nut. Like everyone in California. Fruits and nuts. I used to laugh about that, you know. I used to think how bad can it be? Lionel was weird, but he was a real good guy.'' He shook his head. ''I'm from Michigan. Lionel and I didn't know each other very well, but I thought h
e was a neat guy.''
''Was he really?''
The man seemed startled by the question. His eyes swam with tears. Kathleen had hit a nerve no one else had bothered to touch.
''Yes he was. My brother was the most giving man I've ever known. He was younger than I was, but even when he was little he would just as soon give you the last of whatever he had rather than keep it for himself.''
''Then he was kind of a martyr?'' Kathleen almost lost the man on that one.
''No, he was a true and generous spirit. Hard to believe somebody could change that much isn't it? Hard to believe that he suddenly became a drug user, selfish enough to take his own life.'' The tall man sighed again and ran a hand over his eyes. ''I'm sad he's gone. I'm sad he went the way he did. I was happy to take care of his estate, though. You know. Do something to show that I still felt a connection. Besides, I didn't think it was a big thing. I mean, what could a guy like him acquire that would take so much time to take care of? Lionel, he didn't care about a whole bunch of material things.''
He began to walk. Kathleen fell into step and listened. She was so very, very good at that.
''I'm ten years older than Lionel. Who would have thought he would kick off before I did? Stupid idiot.'' The man sighed. ''Fruit and nuts. Him and Sarah, they lived in a canyon, raised little animals, had a vegetable garden. They worshipped all this natural world nonsense.'' The man shook his head at their stupidity. Kathleen assumed in Michigan there wasn't time to worship anything. ''And then there are the nuts. Lionel sure knew where to find them.''
Kathleen looked up to see that he had spied Louise. For a moment the two of them stood and watched her, each lost in thought.
''Mr. Booker, I'd like to depose you,'' Kathleen said.
''Because Sarah showed up? Because of her you're going to make this more than it is? It should be over by now. I need to go home. There's nothing I have to tell you that I haven't told you in the last few seconds. Lionel was a super guy. He loved Sarah. Weird as they were, they were perfectly suited to each other. Then he killed himself. Who's to say what went on in his mind? There, that's it. I just want to go home.''
His tired eyes were still trained on Louse who lounged against the wall, folding a piece of gum before she popped it in her mouth.
''I've got to do my job, Mr. Booker. If Lionel loved his new wife as much as you say, you may want to try to set the record straight so she won't give everything away. Lionel would have wanted that, wouldn't he?''
''Why bother? You want everything. I can't fight that.''
''I want what's fair,'' Kathleen assured him.
He glanced from Louise to Kathleen then laughed just a little. He walked away, his last comment trailing behind.
''Fruits, nuts and liars.''
Kathleen pulled her old plaid robe around her and scratched the back of her leg with her sock shod foot. She was watching her landlord fix the sink and thinking about her miserable day. Sarah Booker's face haunted her. Louise's words riled her. Gerry's assertions that she had done her best rang less than true. And there was something else that niggled, something that she'd been trying to tell herself ever since she got home. She just couldn't quite grasp what it was and Paul, the landlord's, chatter wasn't helping.
''You'll love it. Come on. You haven't been out since you've been here. You haven't even unpacked your stuff.'' He gave the wrench one more twist. He was a joy to watch.
''No, thanks anyway.'' She was moping. There was no challenge Paul loved better than destroying a good mope.
''Come on. It's a producer's house.''
Paul stood up and wiped his hands on the towel on the sink. He dangled that last tantalizing bit of information as if it was a carrot. He was the most gorgeous man Kathleen had ever seen. Tall. Dark. Gay. When Paul had been fired from his job as an exotic dancer, Gerry had successfully argued that, being gay, Paul could not be a threat to any of the ladies he entertained and therefore he had been discriminated against. The settlement was substantial and Paul's gratitude knew no bounds. He could never repay Gerry for his brilliance but he kept trying. Kathleen's rent in his West Hollywood apartment complex was next to nothing.
''No, thanks. It was a lousy day. I think I'll just sit here and lick my wounds.''
''Oh, sure, I've had days like that, too. You're right. A party isn't what you need. Maybe you should go see Gerry?''
Kathleen shook her head.
''Right again. If you're feeling that bad only someone who loves you will do and I don't mean love like relative love.'' He winked. ''I don't know what I'd do without William. When I was so low those days during the law suit, he was the only one who kept me sane.'' Paul pocketed his wrench and smiled gloriously.
''How do you do that?''
''What?''
''How do you fix my sink and still look so clean?''
''William may adore me, but he also does the laundry. He'd have my head if I made more work for him.'' Paul chuckled and patted her shoulder as he left. ''If you change your mind, call us before eight.''
He left Kathleen to wallow in her misery. At least she did that well. She watched two hours of news, managed microwave pizza bread and balanced her check book by the time Paul and William checked with her at eight to see if she changed her mind. She was in bed by nine thirty, staring at the ceiling while images of Louise and Sarah Booker, Lionel's brother and Judge Kelley floated through her head. They seemed to make a comfortable party of four but, no matter how hard Kathleen tried to join them at their table, there was never one more chair. Gerry popped in for a command performance, a maitre d' in the muddle cafe of her mind. Tony Maglio and Bob Morton floated by on their way to another table, smiling at her as she drifted into a less than restful sleep. When her nightmare dinner was served and the great silver dome was taken off the platter, the waiter announced the special of the evening was Lionel Booker. But Kathleen was too far away from the table to see him. Too far away. And in the small part of Kathleen's brain that still fought sleep, she realized this wasn't so odd. In reality, she had no idea what Lionel looked like. Strangely, though, Kathleen Cotter's last thoughts were of Paul and William, William and Paul and how very, very happy they were - together.
That did it!
She was awake and excited at one in the morning, inspiration coming to her in that never ending dream. She had the answer and no one to tell at that hour. So Kathleen Cotter showered, put her face on and sat in her robe at the small kitchen table to make notes. By six she'd been to the bakery, purchased the largest coffee cake she could find and left it at Paul's door with a note of thanks. At eight thirty she was at the office waiting for Gerry O'Doul. He came in six minutes later and Kathleen began to talk. Gerry listened, trying very hard not to let the tears in his eyes show. He had never been happier in his life and he had a funny feeling Kathleen hadn't either.
They filed a motion for reconsideration in the matter of Louise Booker vs. All Life Insurance by ten and, thanks to Gerry's intervention with Judge Kelley's clerk, had an appearance scheduled for eleven the next day.
That evening Kathleen brought Paul and William a bottle of champagne. Love, she said, was always an inspiration and they had given her a ton of it - inspiration that was.
CHAPTER FIVE
This time Gerry sat with Louise behind the bar. Kathleen wore burgundy and the look of a kid on Christmas morning. Louise wore a mini skirt that matched her orange fingernails. Kathleen had no interest in the rogue of the day. Judge Kelley's shirt was white, his tie gray, and his black robes fresh. Bob Morton was dressed in a suit the color of summer sand. They were all assembled to find out if Kathleen had brought them to this courtroom once again to waste their time or pique their interest.
''Kathleen Cotter for Louise Booker,'' she said following the court courtesies. ''Bob Morton, Your Honor, for All Life. And, for the record not happy to be here Your Honor.''
''All in a day's work, Mr. Morton,'' Kelley quipped. Obviously a morning person, his smile was radiant as he turned
it on Kathleen. ''Good Morning, Ms. Cotter. Didn't really expect to see you again on this matter.''
Kathleen took his benevolence as a sign of good fortune. She kept her mouth shut and let Kelley lead.
''You've been granted this hearing based on your motion for reconsideration in the matter of Louise Booker vs. All Life Insurance.'' He pushed aside his notes and crossed his arms atop the high desk. "I must say, I granted this motion out of curiosity, and a bit of coercion on the part of my clerk. I cannot imagine what you have to bring before this court that was not brought to light day before yesterday. However, I'm hoping it will be something that will start my morning out right. So, you will proceed.''
Kathleen cleared her throat, fully aware that Bob Morton was pouting.
''Thank you,'' she said sweetly. ''I was devastated after my last appearance in your court. Not because I believe I had been treated unfairly, not because you hadn't given our argument - slim as it was - due consideration. . .''
''Your Honor, could Ms. Cotter just get on with it.''
''Cool your heels, Mr. Morton, she'll get to it soon enough, won't you Ms. Cotter?'' Kathleen made a mental note to always jockey for the morning calendar.
''Absolutely. I do appreciate the time you're giving me.''
Kathleen chanced a glance behind her. The deep glint in Gerry's eyes offered encouragement, but his expression for all the world to see was that of only mild interest. Louise squirmed beside him. Kathleen faced the bench without giving her a second glance. Kathleen reached for inspiration. For a minute it wasn't there. No visions of mother and father rooting for her, no sense of friends cheering her along. When it finally came, she was surprised to see that it came from inside her. Tenuous though this courage was, she grabbed it, held it and spoke.
''When last we met, Your Honor, you asked whether or not I understood that a third party cannot attest to state of mind. I assured you that I did, indeed, understand that. I would not waste the court's time attempting to argue that point. I will, however, ask the court to reinstate the action against All Life on the basis that there is, if not life, a certain amount of communication after death that allows the deceased to speak for himself.''
Character Witness Page 8
