''Then, sure, Kathleen, I'll give them to you now.''
Gerry came toward her. She moved away. If she'd been smart she would have run. But she wasn't that smart.
''I had no wife, no children and you were the apple of my eye. I wanted you to have everything. Not so much you'd forget how to work, but enough to make the road easier.''
''Oh, I never forgot how to work,'' Kathleen said. ''I had to work for every little thing I had. My father thought education was a waste on someone so stupid, my mother thought clothes and make-up were a waste on someone so tall and big and ugly. What was it you wasted on me, Gerry? Your time?''
Gerry hung his head; the top of it was smooth and reflective. The little bits of hair that were combed across it looked pitiful. He raised his head to speak to her.
''Time, Kathleen. Time is what I wasted, but not on you. It was wasted because I was away from you. It was wasted because of money.''
''There never was any,'' she shot back.
''Yes there was,'' he said quietly. ''There was quite a bit.'' Kathleen sat down, unable now to take her eyes off him. ''There was a trust fund for you, Kathleen. Your mother and I arranged it with the provision that your father would never know. Your mother was the trustee.''
Gerry walked past her, trying to find the proper words for his story, seeing her, she was sure, still as a young girl eager for the stories of his glamorous life.
''Your father believed in every scheme that came his way. And every one he pinned his hopes on failed him. That's why I didn't want him to know about the money. In those years I was involved with some pretty shady characters, defending them whether they liked it or not. I worried I might not be around to take care of the money I'd set aside for you. That's why your mother was trustee.''
Gerry landed by the window and looked out. She knew what he saw. An alley. There was no glamour there, but there seemed to be some sort of inspiration.
''Your mother was very good about it for many years. She sent me the statements that were sent to her. You should have had enough not only for school but to set yourself up in a tidy practice if you liked. Unfortunately, your mother was a weak woman, unable to keep her secrets long. She told your father about the trust fund. When he asked her to withdraw the money, she did.''
He looked over his shoulder at her. The collar of his shirt still bobbed about his thin neck, the years wore on him. She saw hurt and regret on his face. Mostly regret.
''I could have forgiven her that, Kathleen. What I couldn't forgive was her righteousness. When I confronted the two of them she sided with your father. She said it was their right. She looked me in the eye and told me that the money I'd worked hard for was, by rights, theirs because they had so little. It was about them. Not you, or me, but them. I was hurt to be treated that way. I imagine your mother knew in her heart she was wrong, but her pride kept her from apologizing. I was so hurt I cut myself off from my sister and her husband. In the process, I forgot about you. I threw the baby away with the bath water, Kathleen.''
''And it went on that way until there were years between us.'' Gerry found his chair again. He seemed tired. ''Everyone was at fault except you, and you suffered the most. 'Twasn't what I wanted at all.'' Gerry cradled his cheek in his palm. ''Sure, didn't I think your mother had told you the sorry tale, Kathleen? I thought that's why you came. Now that you know, it will be why you leave.''
Numb, Kathleen stood up. She slipped on her high heels then righted herself. For the first time in her life, Kathleen spoke the honest to God truth, out loud, without qualification or concern for anyone's feelings but her own.
''That's not why I'm leaving. I'm leaving for myself, Uncle Gerry. I want what Richard Jacobsen has to offer, and Richard Jacobsen wants me.''
''I need you.''
''It isn't enough now. I don't want to be needed anymore. Not in that way. I'll take care of All Life. I'll call Bob Morton in the morning.''
''You'll be leaving Sarah just when she needs you the most.''
''Gerry, she's not my friend. We all aren't bound in some strange way. You treat Louise like she's your daughter. You've taken Sarah under your wing. You've seen Michael twice and you're ready to have him up for cards.''
''And you, Kathleen, how have I treated you.''
''Like my mother did,'' Kathleen said and regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth.
''I'm sorry, then. So very sorry. I can only wish you well.'' Gerry stood and gave her a little bow, stopping her as she reached for the doorknob. ''I'm sure Richard will want you to start as soon as possible. I'll take care of Louise.''
Kathleen hesitated.
That hurt.
As she left for the day, the sun was setting.
Her heart was, too.
''I thought you'd still be here.''
Michael stood in the doorway of Gerry O'Doul's office. The front door was open; Becky was long gone so he had walked right in. His long legs were parted; his thumbs were hooked in the pockets of his jeans. He was a shadow man because Gerry hadn't moved from his chair since Kathleen left, not even to turn on the lights. Gallant as always, he did so now though it was, obviously, a great effort to pull the little gold chain on the banker's lamp he'd had since he passed the bar. That grand occasion seemed a hundred years ago. The lamp still worked; Gerry was beginning to wonder if he still did. He blinked and held his glass up toward his guest.
''Come and raise one with me, Michael. We've been deserted by the woman we love there's nothing left but the bottle.''
Gerry's sad chuckles were like wilting rose petals strewn in Michael's path as he sauntered in. He smiled at the old man who had shed his jacket and turned up his cuffs. The watch on his wrist was silver with an elasticized band, a substantial time piece of a substantial man. Gerry poured two fingers and put it in front of Michael.
''You do love my Kathleen, don't you?'' He asked as he sat back in his chair.
''I don't know, Gerry.'' Michael swiped up the glass and sat down. ''How about I just confess to liking her a heck of a lot so far.''
''Sure, that's fine for the time being, Michael. But don't wait too long to decide on the other. Kathleen is moving, Michael, moving on so fast. She'll leave us all behind if we're not careful and she may not be happy when she does. When she wants to come back, we may not be here to welcome her home.''
''Is that what she's doing? Leaving us behind? I thought she was just taking advantage of an opportunity.''
''No, no, my boy.'' Gerry poured himself another drink and toasted Michael. He sipped and put his head back on his chair. ''Ah, I say, getting older has its good points. I don't even feel this brew as it goes down.'' Gerry licked his lips and let his eyes roam over the ceiling. ''She's run away is what she's done, poor thing. The problem is she's run the wrong way, into the jaws of the wily beast.''
''Jacobsen?''
''No other.'' Gerry slid his head along the back of his chair and his eyes came to rest on Michael. ''You're a good man, Michael. I could tell that the moment I met you. I'm proud to know you. But Richard Jacobsen is a man I've never trusted. He worked with me, don't you know, so I'm not talking through my hat. He was a brilliant young man, but there's something odd that drives him. Something dark, it is, and I've never quite cared for it. But then I can't quite condemn him either. We've all played the game, each of us just have a different way of staying on the board. I used Richard when I could. He used me. How could I, in good conscience, tell Kathleen anything other than good luck? She's on the board now, Michael. If I was still one of the big boys she'd be safe here with me instead of going to him.''
''You think she's in some kind of danger?''
Gerry shook his head, ''Not in the way you mean. It's just that I don't want her to be disappointed anymore, Michael. I don't think she has the cold heart she'll need for a place like Shay, Sylvester & Harrington. I don't think she'll be able to hold Richard's interest. I've thought about it all this long evening and I think this was a bad decision, truly I do
.''
''And you didn't tell her?''
''After confessing to her that all the adults in her life had done her wrong? Me the worst offender?'' Gerry snorted. ''Sure aren't you the optimist. I'm assuming she told you when you drove her home?''
''She did.'' Michael still held his drink. This wasn't the social hour, just some time he could give an old man he admired. He wished he could do more than just listen.
''And you think she would have trusted my advice?''
''I don't.'' He reached for the bottle and checked it out. Fine scotch. When he put it back on the desk he finally had a taste. It went down smooth. ''She's got her pride.''
''Don't we all.'' Gerry laughed. It was good to sit with a man, talking like a man. No flowers, no hearts, no worry about who would be hurt. Gerry confided in his new friend. ''My pride kept me from being exactly what Kathleen thought I would be. You see, in my pride I didn't think I had to change with the times. I was so ignorant, Michael. I assumed quality would win out, and the one thing I always had to offer was quality. People got what they paid for.'' Gerry chuckled at his own nonsense.
''But fashions changed. No one wanted ethics and reason, so few people wanted the truth. And there was the press. I spoke always so truthfully to the press, but the time came when they turned the words around so blatantly I sounded like a fool. People forgot Gerry O'Doul and the way he understood the law. I didn't see that people wanted to be entertained and shocked. They wanted gossip, not thoughtfulness. No one cared about the truth, or the deftness of a battle waged by the spirit and letter of the law. My pride kept me from running with the pack so I was left behind. I was not the darling any longer. People like Richard Jacobsen were. Money talked. Designer name law firms got the business. Those who could sell, rather than argue, their case were the champions.''
The two men considered that for a bit, Gerry's opportunity lost. There were pros and cons to standing still. They had both done it. There was something to be said for compromise, too, but they wouldn't argue the fine points now.
''And you, Michael, what has pride changed in your life?''
''Pride fooled me. Pride lulled me into thinking I had accomplished something when in fact I'd simply been hollering into a vacuum while the bad guys kept doing what they wanted to do.''
''Very bad guys?'' Gerry asked.
''Semi-bad. Immoral. Unethical. That kind of bad,'' Michael shrugged.
''Then we'll toast the bad guys for sure their time is just about up, don't you think?''
''I guess that depends on you. None of us are sure what to do. We'd fall apart without someone to lead us through the Lionel thing. Are you still in, even without Kathleen?''
Gerry opened the top drawer of his desk and took out two cigars. He handed one to Michael. They snipped the tips and lit them. The office filled with the aroma of fine tobacco. They sat that way for a bit.
''I'll make some inquiries Michael, but I think I'll reserve committing myself just about now, if you don't mind.''
''I don't mind. It will take me a while to figure out the paperwork. We'll just sort of agree to look into things.''
''I think that's wise.'' Gerry puffed again and watched the cloud above his head take shape. At first he thought it looked like a woman in the gray smoke, and then he realized the thing looked like Richard Jacobsen. A little misshapen, so difficult to define, impossible to pin down. ''Yes, I think I'll be keeping my eye on a few things. I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same. Keep your eye on everything, Michael. Especially my Kathleen.''
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
''So, Bob Morton's thinking it over?''
Kathleen stabbed at her Chinese Chicken Salad and came up with everything but chicken so she started all over again. Her appetite wasn't what it should be, so she let her fork rest and looked at her companions. Sarah in a floral dress looked pretty now that her bruise was gone and her eye was back to normal. Louise in lace and leather with Marilyn Monroe on her chartreuse nails was true to form. Gerry was spruced up in a new suit of beige linen. Only Michael was missing. Somebody had to work, she supposed. She sure as heck wasn't. At least not the kind of work she thought she'd be doing.
''Well, he doesn't have much time to make up his mind, does he?'' She put on a brave smile, hoping they wouldn't see how much she wanted to know everything that they were doing. ''We're supposed to . . .I mean, you're supposed to be back in court next week, right?''
''Hardly seems possible,'' Gerry was jovial. His good humor did nothing to relieve the pall that had settled over their luncheon table and his own private ire. They had come with such good intentions to celebrate her new job and show there were no hard feelings. Instead, they had found a Kathleen, beautiful as always, looking forlorn and trying to hide her frustration. He kept smiling and trying. ''So, then, that means that you've been gone from us for almost three weeks. How are you finding it there? Is Richard treating you well?''
''Yes. Definitely. Yes, he stops in to see me so often. In fact, he even had a painting I admired transferred into my office from his personal conference room.'' Kathleen smiled too. She looked sick. ''You'll have to come up and see it. It's really beautiful. Really.''
Kathleen's enthusiasm was less than convincing but all the heads around the table nodded politely, Louise most heartily since she was the one who understood about keeping up appearances.
''So, then, what are you doing in this new office of yours. Bet it's nothing as exciting as us, huh, Sarah?'' Louise gave her little friend a wink only to be rewarded with a true, but shy, smile. Kathleen thought she would cry except for the fact that Louise was looking at her expectantly.
''I'm working on an environmental case. It's very important. If we successfully defend our client there might actually be sweeping legislation that will change the water pollution laws across the country. It's very, very exciting.''
''Wow,'' Sarah breathed. ''Are you going to go to Washington when you win and make the laws?''
''Well, no. I don't think they'd have me. . .''
''Are we going to see you on TV? I watch that court TV thing all the time?'' Louise chimed in. ''That would be great to see you on TV, but you've got to wear something more colorful. I swear you've gotten dowdier since you flew the coop.''
''Well, no, I'm not actually going to be doing the trial work.'' Kathleen colored and picked up her napkin. She couldn't look at Gerry. She didn't really want to look at any of them. ''It's kind of dry, actually. We're all specializing, you know.''
Feeling Gerry's eyes on her, she chanced a glance at her uncle. She didn't hold his gaze long. He knew. She knew he knew. She was nothing at Shay, Sylvester & Harrington. Fourth seat is what she was on a huge convoluted case that may never see the light of day in a courtroom. She spent most of her time pouring over emission's records that had seemed like Greek for the first two weeks she was at the firm. The thought of years of this made Kathleen more than miserable. Gerry knew, all right, that she was nothing on this case. Worse than that, he pitied her when he should be proud of her. She changed the subject. She'd get through this lunch if it was the last thing she did.
''So, what are you all up to besides getting ready to get Louise her money from All Life?''
''Michael hasn't told you?''
Kathleen shook her head, ''It's been hard to see him. I have to bill so many hours a week I hardly have time to breathe. He's been busy, too, I hear.''
''He's narrowed down those billing records. Gerry's been making phone calls all over the place.'' Louise leaned over, her substantial cleavage resting on the table like a forbidden desert. In his younger days Gerry might have enjoyed an eyeful. Now he just wanted to watch Kathleen and make sure the misery he saw on her face wasn't a trick of the light. He would never rejoice in her suffering, for certainly that's what it was, but he was curious about it and took exception to it and blamed Richard Jacobsen for it.
''Louise, we shouldn't be talking about our little investigation,'' Gerry warned her.
''Gerry,'' Sarah brea
thed, ''it's only Kathleen. She wouldn't tell anyone.''
''Darn right she wouldn't,'' Louise intoned as a gesture of support for, rather than a threat to, Kathleen.
''I don't have anyone to tell anyway. My work is pretty dry. Besides, no one would believe what you guys are doing. So tell me something exciting.'' Kathleen regrouped like a girl at a slumber party. ''I want every detail.''
''There isn't much, Kathleen,'' Gerry interrupted. ''I've managed to find out a few little interesting details about the Coroner, that's all. Minor things that aren't worth talking about.''
One that was most interesting he would never share with her. Like the fact that it was an attorney who requested the Coroner be dispatched to autopsy Lionel Booker. It had been a lovely piece of work, Marlene talking with a friend who talked with a friend who tracked down someone else who remembered an offhanded comment made by the big man himself when he arrived for the dirty work. Lovely piece of work, indeed. Kathleen would have enjoyed it. Thankfully she didn't press for information he wasn't ready to share. Louise had her ear and was directing Kathleen to look under the table. Their heads were together like two inept spies.
''Look, we got this great camera. Sarah and I are going to go out to Tysco and snap some photos. We're going to see who comes and goes and then try to see if Sarah can figure out if any of them kind of look like the guys who went out to her house.''
''Louise, there are thousands of people who work out there. That's ridiculous.'' Louise lowered the tablecloth and stashed her bag. Kathleen sat back. Sarah hung her head, fidgeting with her napkin while she did so.
''Well we don't have much choice. It's not like we've got a whole lot of help,'' she sniffed. ''Not like the back-up you've probably got: computers and things. Besides, we're not going to take pictures of the women so that cuts it down by half. And we're not going to bother with the people coming out of the manufacturing facilities.''
Character Witness Page 24
