Nina sat back in her chair, crossed her legs, folded her arms, and said, "I’m listening."
De Beers gave Stamp an almost imperceptible nod of the head, and Nina thought, well, well, well. Look who’s in charge. She had heard Stamp usually managed to keep his clients roped closely behind him.
"Well," Stamp said. "Let’s step back from the, uh, personal differences within the family. Let’s just look at the situation. When his son, his only child, died, Mr. de Beers was out of the country. He returned after suffering the terrible blow of the loss of his son, only to learn his son had been rushed into his grave. He had no opportunity to mourn or say good-bye. You can understand how he might feel?"
"If that’s the true basis of this motion, why not come out and say so?"
"Because he wouldn’t win with that argument, at least so long as the rest of the family is opposed. He only wants to see him one last time."
"And then what? He’s made it clear that he is dissatisfied with the coroner’s examination," Nina said. "Once the body is disinterred, it’s my belief that he will find a way to have a medical examination performed. My client may not be aware of that. I can’t tell her because Mr. de Beers’s conversation with me was privileged. But I know it and you know it."
Stamp said, "The more they object, the more a medical exam does seem indicated. If there’s nothing wrong, why don’t we just have an independent exam?"
"Not for the reasons he’s insinuating, that’s for sure. Because there’s no basis for an exam. Because my clients accept the coroner’s ruling. Because they resent the insinuation. Because they don’t like being pushed around."
Nina turned back to de Beers, who had been listening with his half-smile. "Mr. de Beers, Sarah and Jason and Molly do not want to disinter Ray’s body. They need to put the past behind them. They need peace. Think about Molly. Think about how fragile she is right now. Please don’t go forward with this. I told you I saw what happened. Your son was struck by lightning. But don’t take my word for it, ask the expert, the coroner, Doc Clauson, who concluded the same thing. The cause of death was absolutely clear, do you understand?"
"Oh, I understand," de Beers said, contempt in his voice. "You’re right in it with them. Leo’s got you all flummoxed. You’re covering up something. You think you can take me on."
"He doesn’t mean that the way it sounds," Stamp said hurriedly, but Nina had already shouldered the briefcase strap.
"I’m getting rid of Leo tomorrow!" de Beers shouted. "I’ll ruin him for making them fight me! Sarah would never do this on her own! Ray always said Leo was after her!"
"I’m sorry, Jeremy," Nina said, ignoring de Beers. "But I can’t trust a man with an irrational obsession. After what you just heard, I think you and your client should have a talk about dropping the motion to exhume the body. I’ll be out in the hall and glad to talk to you if that’s what you want to do. But don’t bother me for any other reason."
The door swung shut and she expelled the breath she had been holding.
Stamp and de Beers came out after half an hour, ignoring her presence down the hall, and Stamp went into the clerk’s office while de Beers made a phone call. Then they both retired again to the library. For the next hour, while the judge waded through other cases, Nina made her calls and cooled her high heels. Finally Deputy Kimura came out and said, "Your case is next on the docket."
"Thanks." She went back to the library and said, "We’re up next," to the two men, not at all happy to see the eagerness with which they took themselves back to the court.
"De Beers versus de Beers et al.," Milne announced as they walked in, so the two lawyers went straight up to the tables in front. Nina took her seat.
"Mr. Stamp?" Milne said. He gave the lawyer a slight smile, an acknowledgment that outside court they were friends. Nina didn’t like seeing it. She knew very well that she wasn’t part of the small group of powerful men in Tahoe that welcomed Milne and Stamp and Quentin de Beers and would never welcome her.
But she had come to respect Milne. She had never caught him leaning unfairly toward one of his cronies. Milne had even helped her on occasion when she stumbled over evidentiary problems during trial. He was one reason she had been able to establish herself in a law practice at Tahoe. He was the only regularly sitting Superior Court judge, and he had always been fair to her.
Stamp was running through the facts of Ray’s death. He had a fine, old-fashioned way of declaiming: his posture very erect, no notes, his well-manicured hands effecting a calculated series of graceful gestures. "As the Court will see, Penal Code section 642 makes it a felony willfully or maliciously to remove and appropriate for his own use articles of value from a human body. Mr. de Beers has filed a criminal complaint against persons unknown and requested that the South Lake Tahoe police department take immediate action to investigate.
"Therefore, we have a possibility of a crime involving Mr. de Beers’s body. And if that body has been disturbed for the purpose of theft, who knows in what other respects it may have been disturbed? Have other items been taken? Has it been mutilated? Under the circumstances, Your Honor, my client felt that he had to do something. He begged Mrs. de Beers, his daughter-in-law, to have the body disinterred, but she inexplicably refuses to do anything to protect the body, while the South Lake Tahoe police department seems to think it has better things to do. This Court has discretion to order the disinterment when it will serve the ends of justice to do so.
"Mr. de Beers is already mourning the loss of his son, Your Honor. He shouldn’t have to experience the dread that he now suffers in addition to his mourning. What harm will be done to anyone by allowing him to satisfy himself that his son is resting in peace, if that is the case? And if the worst has happened, isn’t it in the interests of justice to determine that as soon as possible?"
Stamp sat down, smoothed his jacket and turned to de Beers, who sat behind him, patting his hand as he had done in the library.
Milne’s brow had furrowed. Nina hoped that he was puzzled and thought something more was behind the motion. He was no slouch.
"Ms. Reilly?" he said.
Nina did a one-minute recap of her version of the facts, and then said, "The Court has our Points and Authorities. It’s clear that a body should not be disinterred without some overriding public purpose. If this is such a red-hot criminal case, how come the Tahoe police aren’t here requesting the disinterment? On the contrary, we have filed a declaration indicating the police haven’t determined yet whether the ring actually was stolen. They’re looking into it. Let them come to the Court to talk about enforcing the law. They are the authorities, not Mr. de Beers. He has no standing to be here requesting this relief.
"Counsel for Mr. de Beers keeps telling us about Mr. de Beers’s grief, as if he’s the only one who’s lost a family member. What about Ray de Beers’s children, Molly and Jason? They’ve lost their father. What about Mrs. de Beers? As the surviving spouse she has the superior right here. She feels that the ring in question was previously removed and her husband was buried without it. The mortician who filed the declaration attesting otherwise is simply making a mistake. She doesn’t think the situation warrants digging up her husband.
"The immediate family’s desires take precedence here." Nina paused, then said very deliberately, "Perhaps Mrs. de Beers feels that there is more here than meets the eye, Your Honor. She has stated that she believes this motion is frivolous. Families become embroiled sometimes in strange games, Your Honor, particularly in times of stress...." She caught the judge’s eye, gave him a piercing look, trying to communicate that she knew much more she wanted to say but couldn’t.
"I really have to protest the impropriety of this argument, Judge," Stamp said, not bothering to get up, using his voice to command attention. "Counsel has left the realm of legal argument and moved into the land of irrelevance. She has to confine herself to facts, not insinuations—"
"May I finish, Your Honor?" Nina said over Stamp’s voice. Chalk one
up for the clear, high female voice, she was thinking to herself as Milne’s head swung back her way.
She opened her mouth to insinuate a few more things before being shut down, but then she felt a nudge at her elbow. Deputy Kimura, the courtroom bailiff, stood there with a note in his hand.
"May I have just a second, Your Honor?" she said, irritated. She was about to lose her momentum.
The note said "Call your client. She wants to drop her opposition."
The floor beneath her feet dissolved and she sank through it. Her arguments drained from her head. Weakly, she said, "Uh, excuse me, Your Honor. I, uh, need to consult briefly with my client. I wonder if we could trail this matter to the end of the docket."
Milne said, "Mr. Stamp? Would you be agreeable?"
Stamp said from his table, "Certainly. If counsel has some emergency, we’re happy to accommodate."
And Nina turned to look at them both. De Beers’s smile was mocking. She was absolutely sure that Stamp and de Beers had known the note would be coming.
Out in the hall, adrenaline pumping, she called the de Beers house. Sarah answered right away, as if she hadn’t left the phone since she had called the courtroom. "Hi, Nina," she said in a strained voice.
"What’s up?" Nina said as neutrally as she could.
"Oh, I’ve just been thinking. I’ve decided to let Quentin go ahead. He can have what he wants. I don’t care any longer."
"This is kind of unusual, Sarah," Nina said. "I’m standing there in court in the final minutes of the argument and you suddenly—"
"Well, I changed my mind. I hired you. I’m your boss. You have to do what I say. You have to drop your opposition. Right now." The words sounded rehearsed.
"What do Molly and Jason think?"
"That really doesn’t matter. I’m writing the checks."
"Is anyone else there with you, Sarah?"
"No."
"What’s happened to make you change your mind? I understood that this was important to you. You’ve never shown the slightest doubt before."
"Just do what I say."
"Was it Quentin? Did he call you? What did he say?"
"Please. I’m sorry. I’m giving you a ... an instruction," Sarah insisted.
"You came to me for help and advice. I’m trying to help you now, Sarah. I don’t think you are quite yourself. Sometimes people say things when they’re under a lot of stress and regret them later. You won’t get another chance if you drop the matter now."
"I can’t stand this! Not any of it!"
"It’s almost over. Just hang in there with me, Sarah."
"No! I’m telling you what I want. Let Quentin have his fun."
She hung up. Nina called back, but there was no answer.
In the law library she took a breather, looking out at the trees pressed against the windows twenty feet above the ground, feeling as if she were in the middle of a jungle as thick and tangled as a tropical forest. She supposed that made her a monkey and that bonk on the head she had just taken must have been a coconut.
Then she went back into the courtroom, now emptying as other matters were heard and disposed of and the long parade of lawyers and scofflaws wended its way out the door. Two lawyers still at it were exchanging courteous invective in a breach of contract case. Stamp and de Beers sat near the front, listening. She sat down in the back and waited.
At ten minutes to twelve the case was called again, and Nina took her place at the defendant’s table.
"Well, Ms. Reilly? You still have five more minutes," Milne said.
"I won’t need that long, Your Honor. I’d just like to ..." She looked directly at Stamp. "At this point I’d like to respectfully request that this matter be put over until next week."
"You want a continuance?" Milne said, his eyebrows raised. "Will it assist in resolution of this case?"
"I don’t know, Your Honor. But we are appearing today without the usual notice period. We attempted to cooperate with Mr. Stamp by appearing and filing no objection to the short notice. However, I must now advise the Court that the notice period is inadequate to allow a proper response."
"You seem to be doing pretty well," Milne said dryly.
"She’s waived any right to object to the notice period," Stamp interposed. "If Ms. Reilly has received some sort of communication from her client, perhaps indicating her desire not to go forward, then she should not be asking for a continuance, she should be dropping her opposition while we’re on the record."
"Funny you should say that, Mr. Stamp," Nina said. "I don’t recall saying that I received any such communication."
"You did receive a note."
"And you’re pretty darn sure you know what’s in it, aren’t you, Mr. Stamp?"
"Address your arguments to the Court, not to each other," Milne snapped.
"There’s no emergency, Your Honor," Nina said. "One week more or less will make no difference. New facts may arise that will allow the Court to rule on this matter with a clearer record."
"I have to tell you both that, with the record as it stands, I am inclined to defer to the wishes of the widow and not permit the disinterment," Milne said. "With that in mind, Ms. Reilly, what do you wish to do?"
Quentin de Beers had dropped the smile. Nina now knew that all she had to do was sit down and she would get what she knew Sarah de Beers really wanted.
But she couldn’t do that. If she went on and won, she would be acting against an express instruction from her client.
On the other hand, after a few years of representing people in stressful circumstances, Nina had learned that a good lawyer knows when her client is blowing it and has to be protected from herself. She wasn’t about to follow Sarah’s instruction, either.
"I request a one-week continuance," she said.
Stamp rose to his feet. He told Milne how his client had put off a trip out of the state in order to appear in court that morning; that a continuance would only prolong his client’s suffering; that Ray de Beers’s body would be further decomposed and the viewing would be even more distressing; that Ms. Reilly had clearly been fully prepared for the hearing.
"In light of the Court’s statement just now that the Court is inclined to rule in her favor, why in the world is Ms. Reilly suddenly asking for a continuance? Why doesn’t she just let the Court rule?" Stamp said.
"In light of my inclination, Mr. Stamp, why do you want me to rule?" Milne said. "I confess I’m totally confused."
"Because," Stamp said, "there’s only one reason she can’t let the Court make a ruling here and now. Her client has instructed her to drop this opposition, and she isn’t willing to follow that instruction, but she doesn’t want to fly in the face of the instruction, either. She’s weaseling, Judge."
"Is that true, counsel? Don’t waste the Court’s time if your client doesn’t want to go forward."
"Mr. Stamp is trying to coerce me into going into more detail than I feel is appropriate at this time. I won’t be coerced by him, and neither will my client. And I hope Mr. Stamp and his client understand that. I hope that the Court will also understand that."
A glimmer of understanding had indeed begun to flicker in Milne’s keen eyes.
"True. Coercion will not be countenanced in my courtroom," he said, and Nina had to stifle a nervous laugh at the unconscious alliteration.
"Well, let’s see what we have here," Milne went on. "Mr. Stamp wants the court to go ahead and rule, knowing that the ruling is likely to cost him his motion. Odd, very odd. And Ms. Reilly says she won’t be coerced into winning. Also very odd. You folks should trade sides.’’
She had said as much as she dared, so she kept her mouth shut and waited.
"The matter will be put over for one week," Milne said. He closed the file and looked at the clock on the wall. "Court’s adjourned until one-thirty," he said. Nina dropped her eyes and peeked sideways at de Beers.
He had a tight grip on Stamp’s arm, preventing the angry lawyer from getting up to protes
t some more.
Looking past Stamp at Nina, de Beers locked eyes with her. The smile of triumph had faded; the weak scaffold of manners had tumbled; the businessman she had met in her office had evaporated.
His fury blew toward her like debris from an explosion. She turned away. Moving her own eyes to the table in front of her, she stacked and restacked papers in her briefcase until Stamp and de Beers had gone, leaving her alone in the court except for Deputy Kimura. The bailiff waited patiently as she slowly gathered up her notes and the pleadings still scattered around the table. As she left he escorted her out the door, and she saw him look both ways in the hall to make sure she would have a hassle-free passage to the outside. As he locked up in the hall, Nina said, "He’s a good judge."
"A very good judge," Deputy Kimura agreed.
"About the phone message from my client that you took...."
"I probably wrote it down wrong." But he knew he hadn’t gotten it wrong.
"You seem to have been looking out for me since the shooting last year," Nina told him. "Thanks. Sometimes"—she stopped, able to resume only after a deep breath—"I find it hard to sit in that chair."
"Just want to make sure lightning doesn’t strike twice." He looked so solid, standing there with his comforting girth and the holster hanging off his belt. All the air went out of her and she dropped her briefcase. Deputy Kimura picked it up and said, "I’ll walk you out to your car."
"Oh, I—"
"No trouble," he said. "For a good lawyer. A very good lawyer."
Sarah de Beers’s house was only a couple of miles away. Nina drove past the stores and restaurants in the lunch-hour traffic, wondering what to say to Sarah. Gnawing worry had replaced hunger in her stomach.
The de Beers family was flying apart. Ray had once held them together, as Tito had once held Yugoslavia together. But Ray was gone, and Yugoslavia was no more.
The safest thing would be to keep a comfortable emotional distance. At first it had been easy. She had felt a distaste for the whole family. But now she felt a stirring of sympathy for Sarah, as if she saw something of herself in the woman. She felt Sarah had spent her years with Ray embroiled in struggle; had done her best for her children, raising them against grim odds, and now, just when she might have a chance to grasp a small piece of happiness, was failing. That sympathy now extended to Jason and Molly. Poor Jason; poor Molly, she thought.
Obstruction of Justice Page 15
