The Namedropper Page 19

  ‘I told you the medical stuff knocked his case from under him.’

  ‘What’s he doing about it?’

  ‘Seeing Alyce …’ The lawyer paused ‘Just about now, in fact.’

  ‘Not with you?’

  ‘She’s his client, not mine. We’re co-operating, that’s all.’

  ‘You must be thrilled with all the stuff you’re getting from him,’ mocked Jordan.

  ‘We might be meeting later, brunch maybe, depending on what he gets from her.’

  ‘“We” meaning you and I or “we” meaning you and Reid?’

  ‘Bob and me. He’s still pretty sore about the way you spoke to him.’

  ‘I would have thought he’d be used to being spoken to like that by now,’ dismissed Jordan. ‘I might need to speak to you later.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘I’m still sorting through stuff,’ avoided Jordan. ‘Did you actually see – read – those medical reports on Appleton and the woman?’

  ‘Yes. Why?

  ‘I’m curious about something.’

  ‘You off playing amateur lawyer again?’ demanded Beckwith, although without any irritation.

  ‘Just curious,’ repeated Jordan. Hurrying on to avoid any further questioning he said, ‘And I’m changing rooms. This one is too small. I’ll leave a message with the new number when I get it, if you’re not around.’

  ‘And I’ll call you, when I get back from seeing Bob. If I see Bob. If I don’t maybe we could lunch?’

  ‘Let’s keep in touch,’ agreed Jordan. Now he was actually in to Appleton’s records he could well be through by lunchtime.

  Jordan used his own written report from George Abrahams as a rough template to check against the findings from Appleton’s consultation, his disappointment growing as the two appeared – according to his layman’s understanding – to match, with the exception of their haematology groupings, Jordan’s being O, Appleton’s A. Patiently Jordan went through Chapman’s examination a second time, alert for anything he might have missed on his first reading, and again finished with the same understanding. It did not take Jordan as long to break into Dr Lewell’s computer at her Haymarket Square clinic. At first reading her examination of Leanne Jefferies appeared the same as Appleton’s, with the exception of her blood group being AB. Jordan went through it a second time, once more using Abraham’s report for a comparison and once more achieved what appeared to be a match. As an afterthought he went through both comparing them to what Dr Preston had supplied in England, with the same result.

  There was a disparity. Jordan was sure of it: sure that he just wasn’t seeing it. But what? He’d only been able to get the briefest look at both reports on Reid’s desk, too fleeting – and too distant – to absorb beyond the more prominently printed names and addresses of the two venerealogists. But with Abrahams’ document spread out directly in front of him Jordan’s impression was that his own report was actually longer than those of either Dr Chapman or Dr Lewell.

  There was an obvious reason for the apparent differences, Jordan realized. His own completed and signed findings weren’t comparable precisely because those for Appleton and Jefferies weren’t completed and signed: what he’d read on his phishing visit into the computers of Appleton and Leanne’s doctors were still in note form, not assembled into dictated documents. He’d wasted his time, Jordan acknowledged. All three sets of information seemed factually comparable but he needed the presentations of the opposing venerealogists to decide the diagnoses reached from them, not just the results of various tests.

  Despite it being well past noon and therefore obvious that Beckwith and Reid had met, Jordan still called his lawyer’s room, but got no reply. He was given the choice of three suites and chose the largest, transferring everything and resetting his entry traps. He left a message with the suite number, as well as the fact that he was lunching in the hotel coffee shop, which turned out to be unnecessary because the table he was allocated had a perfect view of the entrance through which a returning Daniel Beckwith would come.

  The scrod, with a side salad, was hugely better than his previous night’s dinner, which proved the undeniable hotel lore that a hotel restaurant was always better than room service. He still had something far more important to prove and hoped Beckwith wouldn’t be too long getting back.

  Something else he couldn’t understand had just occurred to him.

  ‘The bitch wouldn’t budge,’ declared Reid. ‘I had her read both medical reports and explained every which way that it made her denials of any other affairs completely untenable, but she wouldn’t change her story by as much as this!’ He held up his hand with his forefinger and thumb too close together to show any intervening daylight. The Bloody Mary he had in his other hand was his first, and still only half-drunk, and Beckwith was glad.

  ‘Did you tell her I’d cross-examine her as hard as I could?’

  ‘Of course I did.’

  ‘Didn’t that worry her?’

  Reid shook his head. ‘She said she didn’t care how tough you were. That she was telling the truth and that was that. And that the judge and jury could make up their minds whether to believe her or not.’

  ‘Which they won’t.’

  ‘Of course they won’t! They’ll decide she’s promiscuous and that Harvey was one of many—’

  ‘Which I might capitalize on,’ broke in Beckwith, as the opportunity opened up to him. ‘If Alyce is a serial adulteress Harvey was just that, one of many who shouldn’t be made to pay for all the others.’ He sipped his own Bloody Mary, enjoying the drink and the abruptly occurring possibility.

  ‘It’s a dangerous argument,’ warned the other lawyer. ‘It’ll still cost him.’

  ‘But not as much as it might fighting every damned claim head on. This way I get to show that Harvey didn’t alienate any affection: that a lot of other unknowns did before him. OK, Harvey screwed her but he isn’t the marriage wrecker.’

  ‘If Pullinger finds in your favour that takes Leanne off the financial hook. And gives Appleton the petition, too.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Beckwith.

  ‘What little I can, which is very little indeed,’ said Reid. ‘Argue mitigation, in view of Appleton’s admitted adultery. That’s all I’ve got.’

  ‘What about Wolfson’s submission for Leanne’s dismissal?’

  ‘You’re right that I should seek a postponement,’ conceded Reid. ‘It’ll be too close behind yours and there’s no way of anticipating how much blood there’s going to be on the carpet when you’re through. I’ll enter the postponement application tomorrow.’

  ‘On what grounds?’

  ‘More time for preparation, in view of the lateness of their medical production.’

  ‘What if Pullinger demands details?

  ‘The medical stuff was late.’

  ‘And left you with nothing.’

  ‘And left me with practically nothing,’ agreed Reid. ‘You ever regret becoming a lawyer?’

  ‘Every time I lose,’ said Beckwith. ‘It doesn’t last.’

  ‘This time it will,’ said Reid. ‘This was my big one.’

  ‘It still will be.’

  ‘But for all the wrong reasons.’

  ‘You want another drink?’ invited Beckwith, his own glass empty.

  ‘It didn’t help yesterday and it won’t help today,’ refused Reid. ‘I already feel like shit without any outside help.’

  ‘She’s sticking to her story,’ Beckwith told Jordan. ‘It loses the case for her but gives us a hell of a good mitigation argument that’ll reduce any damages if Pullinger won’t dismiss you from the case altogether.’

  It was 4 p.m., Jordan saw, glad of the extra time he’d had to prepare his explanation to his lawyer without disclosing his computer hacking. ‘Is Bob still with you?’

  There was a momentary silence from the other end of the line. ‘No. Why? Didn’t you hear what I just said?’

  ‘I heard what you just sa
id,’ assured Jordan, impatiently. ‘Did you actually read the results of Appleton and Leanne’s chlamydia consultations? Remember enough for a word for word comparison with what Abrahams supplied about me?’

  ‘What the fuck are we talking about now, Harvey?’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘You’re not making a whole lot of sense,’ protested the lawyer.

  ‘Please answer what I’m asking you.’

  ‘Bob offered them to me, as I already told you. And I glanced at them. But no, I couldn’t quote either of them, word for word.’

  ‘I wasn’t given them to read: Bob paraphrased,’ Jordan pointed out.

  ‘They’re nothing to do with your part of the case.’

  ‘They were lying on Bob’s desk. And they were much shorter than what Dr Abrahams supplied in my case.’

  ‘Because I told him I wanted every detail that could possibly arise or be challenged. That’s what I’m trying to do: prevent you stumbling into a bear trap … which I think I now can, because of Alyce’s denials. Leave it, for Christ’s sake!’

  ‘According to the depositions, Appleton ended his relationship with Leanne Jefferies when, seven, eight, nine months ago?’ persisted Jordan, coming to his prepared reason for talking about the chlamydia reports.

  ‘I don’t have the papers before me. Eight, I guess. I can check, from the stuff I’ve brought down with me.’

  ‘And Leanne lives in Manhattan, right?’

  ‘I told you, I don’t have the papers before me: everything’s in my briefcases. You want me to look it up?’

  ‘I already have, from what’s been made available to me. Her apartment’s on East 106 Street.’

  ‘We soon going to get to wherever it is you’re heading, Harvey?’

  ‘Why does Leanne Jefferies, who lives in apartment 38b, 3200 East 106 Street, Manhattan, and who hasn’t had any relationship for eight months with Alfred Appleton, go all the way up to Haymarket Square, Boston – where the Appleton’s are one of the most respected of founding families – to undergo a medical examination to establish her sexual cleanliness?’

  The silence this time from Beckwith’s end of the telephone was much longer than before. Finally the lawyer conceded: ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be a good idea for someone to ask her, preferably in court? And for us to compare everything Abrahams said about me with what their specialists wrote about Appleton and Leanne?’

  ‘I’ll call Bob at home, now. Arrange a meeting for tomorrow.’

  Twenty

  Harvey Jordan isolated the discrepancy within fifteen minutes, which was hardly surprising as he was the only one among the three of them to have studied the entire and detailed computer notes of Dr Mark Chapman and Dr Jane Lewell and knew his own venerealogist’s assessment practically verbatim.

  ‘Antigens!’ declared Jordan, straightening up from his comparison of the court-presenting dossiers of the three American doctors. The fourth, prepared by the English specialist, James Preston, was also on the table, although to one side and not part of the main comparison.

  ‘What?’ demanded Beckwith.

  ‘Antigens,’ repeated Jordan, isolating the reference in George Abrahams’ deposition, copies of which were before both lawyers to compare against those on Appleton and Leanne Jefferies, which were also in front of them. ‘And doesn’t that turn everything on its head!’

  ‘It might if we understood what in God’s name you were talking about,’ complained Reid.

  Beckwith had warned Jordan of Reid’s overnight resentment – initially rejecting outright the suggestion of another meeting between them – at the possibility of Jordan’s further criticism, and there’d been a discernible hostility during the half an hour they’d already spent together. Uncaring, Jordan insisted, ‘See the mention, in what Abrahams wrote …?’ His finger traced the passage.

  ‘I’m there,’ confirmed Beckwith.

  Reid nodded, without speaking.

  ‘Now, go on,’ urged Jordan, quoting, ‘“The patient’s blood, which is group O, was subjected to further, microbiological haematological examination to establish the presence, if any, of chlamydia antigens, which would have remained present if the patient had suffered the venereal infection but undergone successful antibiotic curative treatment. There was a complete absence of chlamydia antigens, which confirms the patient, Harvey Jordan, had never been a sufferer …’” He looked up, inviting a reaction.

  None came from either lawyer, both of whom were moving between the three separate papers. He had to be careful not to give any indication of having seen the case notes, Jordan reminded himself. He said, ‘There’s no reference in the reports, from either Appleton or Leanne’s specialists, of antigens. Or of an examination of their blood to look for them. Appleton’s says: “haematological examination found no evidence of the chlamydia bacteria in the patient’s A blood grouping.” Leanne’s specialist says: “The patient’s blood, which is of the AB type, was completely clear of any chlamydia infection.” But there’s no indication of any microbiological tests to prove that neither Appleton nor Leanne didn’t have antigens in their blood, which would be the medical proof that they never suffered from it.’

  Beckwith came up from his frowned comparison, his face clearing. ‘You’re right! Their depositions only prove that Appleton and Leanne are clear now!’

  ‘And it does turn everything on its head,’ agreed the finally smiling Reid. ‘The most important being that Alyce could be telling the truth after all.’

  Beckwith wasn’t smiling, though. To Jordan he said, ‘You did well, picking up on the omission. Well for Alyce. But not so well for yourself. If Alyce hasn’t been sleeping around the defence I intended against your criminal conversation claims goes out the window.’

  ‘Does it?’ demanded Jordan. ‘What about what else we’ve already talked about this morning comparing the depositions, which were so late being delivered that you, Bob, think they’re grounds for a postponement? Aren’t you a tad curious that Leanne’s medical report was prepared by a Boston venerealogist, not one far more conveniently located in Manhattan? I am.’

  The two lawyers looked at each other before Reid picked up the English deposition. ‘Your guy Preston didn’t list antigens clearance, either.’

  ‘Preston was anything but my guy: he was little more than a medical fraudster whose professional opinion – inadmissible in an American court anyway – was so inadequate that I had the second tests here, by Abrahams,’ refuted Jordan.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ said Beckwith, talking to Jordan. ‘If Pullinger thinks, has the vaguest suspicion even, that something is being withheld from him – which isn’t taking it as far as him thinking that he’s being lied to – we’re throwing the party.’

  ‘How we going to do this?’ demanded Reid, the resentment – and resistance – finally going. ‘These – ’ he lifted and let drop the Boston depositions – ‘are part of my case, not yours. A stickler to the rules like Pullinger won’t let you introduce them into your submissions.’

  ‘Not a problem,’ assured Beckwith. ‘There’s no North Carolina rule against our co-operating, is there?’

  Reid considered the question. ‘None, as far as I’m aware. I need to check.’

  ‘You’ve got a day and a half to do that: and for us to work out a way around it if what I want to do is barred. A day and a half as well to chase up all the other outstanding queries to be answered by your enquiry people,’ said Beckwith, pointedly not looking at Jordan. ‘I want to hit Appleton as hard as I can, first time. It could determine the outcome of everything, your case as well as mine. We’d all of us be home free.’

  Reid did look towards Jordan, but still without any animosity. ‘Thank you. You’ve put in a lot of work: more than any client should do; be required to do.’

  ‘I want to keep my hands on my money,’ said Jordan, meaning it.

  ‘And I want to say I appreciate it,’ said Reid. ‘Alyce should, too.’

&nbs
p; ‘You got a side office here that I could use?’ Beckwith cut across the apologies, talking to the other lawyer. ‘I need to call a lot of people. And go through a lot of law books I don’t have down here with me.’

  ‘You can take your pick of whatever you want,’ offered Reid.

  ‘Who’s going to talk to Alyce, tell her she’s no longer facing an inquisition?’ asked Jordan.

  ‘I am,’ said Reid. ‘I was pretty tough on her yesterday.’

  ‘Let’s not get too confident,’ cautioned Beckwith. ‘I still need to call her as my witness on Wednesday. And I won’t have her holding back on me.’

  ‘I’m not going to tell her that all her problems are over,’ assured Reid.

  ‘That’s good, because they’re not, for any of us. Not yet.’ said Beckwith.

  Beckwith seemed passingly bemused by Jordan’s announcment that he was returning to New York during the intervening thirty-six hours but didn’t ask why, instead warning Jordan to be back in Raleigh in more than good enough time to be in court for the opening of the submission application. Jordan caught the first flight that morning, which got him into Manhattan before ten. He didn’t go directly to the Carlyle but detoured instead to West 72nd Street, where the three expected loan applications were waiting, as well as another from the Chase Manhattan, also with an initial $10,000 maximum. Finally at the hotel Jordan completed all four and hand delivered each along Wall Street, at each stop completing forms for the monthly repayments to be directly debited against the account. At each he also withdrew money from every account to spread between his various safe-deposit boxes. At all five banks he was greeted effusively but without any curiosity or suspicion by the managers with whom he’d opened the accounts. Back once more at the hotel Jordan spent a long time painstakingly going through every outlet at Appleton and Drake – concentrating upon the accountancy and financial control divisions – for any indication of his embezzlement having been discovered. And found nothing. He completed the visit by distributing a further $15,000, for the first time moving from the company’s currency division section to metals.