Character Witness Page 11

  ''He never did drugs. He loved the world. He was a spiritual man and we were so happy together. Now he's dead and nobody is interested in how that happened. You don't care about Lionel so just take what you want. Just don't take what was real and make it different just because of money. You can ask me things a hundred different ways, but I can't tell you that Lionel was ugly or mean or selfish. He wasn't. He wasn't.'' She raised her head, memories of Lionel giving her courage.

  ''I know he didn't kill himself. I know that for sure because . . .,'' Sarah's voice rang out like an evangelist. Suddenly realizing how curious they'd become, she back tracked. ''I know that because I know him. I don't know how the drugs got in him, but you'll never convince me that he was so sad he didn't want to live. He finally had a good life.'' She slumped back in her chair. ''Now it's gone and you are all picking at his corpse. That was my husband. I loved him. He loved me. There's nothing more. So please, can I go home now? Please? Please, I want to leave.''

  Silence is a canvas and Sarah's last words were painted on it in big letters for all to see. Tony Maglio craned his neck so he wouldn't have to look at Sarah. Kathleen looked at her notes. Never in her whole life had she felt so guilty. She had scored one today. A big one and she felt terrible because Sarah Booker wasn't her opponent. Sarah was only a sad woman, a widow, a person afraid of her own shadow. It was easy to pick on someone like that.

  ''Oh Lord,'' Louise finally muttered from her exile. ''Lionel wasn't a saint.'' The spell was broken. The court reporter typed and Becky slipped into the room staying only long enough to whisper in Kathleen's ear.

  Though she listened, Kathleen watched Sarah Booker closely. The body language screamed martyr but there was something else inside her. When she glanced over her shoulder toward Louise, Sarah Booker began to shake and Kathleen understood. That something else inside Sarah was honest to goodness fear. The questions were how deep did it go and how real was it? Sarah's eyes snapped back to her lap and Kathleen turned a curious eye on Louise. There was, of course, one other question. Who was causing such fear?

  ''Mrs. Booker,'' Kathleen said gently as she jotted a note to herself regarding Becky's information. ''Can you think of anything in Lionel's life, or yours, that would cause him to become despondent or to feel as if he would be doing anyone a favor if he took his own life? If there is one small thing it would help so much to wrap this up.''

  Sarah shook her head. When she looked at Kathleen there was no fear but there was such a sense of such extreme weariness that Kathleen wondered if they shouldn't feed her before she left. Yet when she answered ''no'' there was closure. There would be nothing else from Sarah Booker, but Kathleen had to try one more thing. It was a question she asked the women in Banning who came to her, bruised and battered to find out what they could do to protect themselves from an 'unnamed person' who wanted to hurt them - an unnamed person who usually turned out to be their husband. In this case, that wasn't a possibility. There was, however, another person who Sarah Booker might fear. A person who wanted what she had in the worst way.

  ''Sarah, is there anyone you're afraid of?''

  Sarah Booker bolted upright, her narrow, fragile shoulders shaking under the heavy sweater. If it was possible, her face paled even more, the freckles across the bridge of her nose taking on a three dimensional look. Her eyes lowered, they slid left toward Louise. A sign. Kathleen watched closely for any sign of accusation. Those eyes slid right toward Tony Maglio and, finally, they looked fearfully at Kathleen herself.

  ''I just want to be left alone.''

  Kathleen stood up. The court reporter packed up her things, left a card on the desk and went away. The transcripts would be in Kathleen's hands the next day. It was hardly necessary. Kathleen would remember everything: the words, the nuances, the inflections. Sarah hurried out the door and Becky said good-bye to everyone in turn. Tony Maglio stuck out the hand that didn't hold his briefcase.

  ''It's been a pleasure,'' he said.

  Kathleen took it and shook it.

  ''It's been interesting.''

  ''Yeah,'' he hoisted the case and Kathleen wondered what could make it so heavy. ''It was pretty painless.''

  ''For you maybe,'' Kathleen reminded him. It took him a minute to realize he was supposed to murmur some sort of empathetic statement on Sarah's behalf. He tried but it didn't come easily.

  ''Well.'' He had a proposition to discuss. ''Look, Kathleen, this estate isn't worth the paper it's printed on. I'm only here as a favor to Booker's brother, you know. He liked the wife. He didn't know her well, but he has a lot of respect for the way she felt about his brother.'' He glanced over his shoulder. They were alone. He laid it out. ''Anyway, you've got a better shot at getting the bucks out of All Life. Everything in the estate is tied up with Sarah anyway. She was Lionel's beneficiary on the company paid policies, retirement, house, everything. She thinks she can just give it away and that will be that, but I'm here to tell you it would be a mess.'' Now he put the briefcase in front of him and held it with both hands. He lowered his head; she leaned into him to hear what he had to say.

  ''There was some stock in Lionel's name and a separate savings account Sarah said he had opened to save for his farm. The guy worked twenty years and he's got less than thirty in personal assets. Our fees are going to be substantial because of this suit. It comes out of the estate before there's a penny on the settlement. We've cooperated pro bono on this depo. What do you say you talk to your client? I'll expedite the probate. Sarah will have some bucks in the bank and still have her house. You put your efforts into All Life where the money is. It just makes a heck of a lot more sense.'' He glanced over his shoulder at Louise knowing her ears were as big as her greed. ''That's what you're client wants anyway. It's pretty evident. Cut and dry. You're good enough to get All Life. Why not do it?''

  ''I'll think about it. I promise.''

  She took his arm and moved him out of the office, standing taller under the mantle of his compliment. If anything else was going to be said she wanted it done out of earshot of Louise Booker who could shoot her down with a well placed word. She wrapped things up with him, but before she could go back to Louise, Becky stopped her.

  ''This came by messenger. One for you and one for Gerry.''

  Kathleen took the cream colored envelope, noted there was no return address and opened the seal. She was quiet while she read it once, twice and then again.

  ''You okay?'' Becky asked. ''Bad news? I hope not? I have some soda. Want some?''

  ''No,'' Kathleen shook her head, and tried not to grin when she looked up. She didn't do a very good job. ''No, it's not bad news. In fact, it's very good news. Did Gerry get the same thing?''

  ''Yep.''

  ''Then pencil me in on his calendar. We have a date at Shay, Sylvester & Harrington on the thirty-first. We've been invited to a fund raiser for Carl Walsh. I guess Gerry's networking is paying off.''

  ''Wow. That's cool. Can you imagine? A party at the biggest law firm in the city. You're sure going to meet some neat people.''

  ''Yes,'' Kathleen muttered, ''I think you're right.''

  She put the invitation back in the envelope and headed toward Gerry's office. She wouldn't get her hopes up. She wouldn't make any plans. She wouldn't even allow herself to imagine that Richard Jacobsen even remembered what she looked like. She wouldn't do anything until the day was over. Then she'd dream. Boy, would she dream. But now, Louise was waiting and she'd give a dollar to pop any balloon of good cheer Kathleen sent up. Composed, Kathleen walked back into Gerry's office, pocketing the invitation.

  ''So, do we have enough?'' Louise asked.

  Kathleen started cleaning up for lack of anything better to do that would keep her from looking at Louise. ''We've got a lot.''

  ''A lot isn't a win.'' Louise stood up and adjusted the top of her outfit. Her breasts moved this way and that only to fall into place the minute their owner stopped her fussing. Kathleen put all the coffee cups to one side, no longer impressed by Lo
uise's ridiculous antics. Louise wasn't the kind of client she wanted to represent. Shay, Sylvester & Harrington had those clients. Louise wasn't the kind of person she wanted to know. Richard Jacobsen was.

  ''There aren't any promises, Louise.'' Kathleen stopped. She could only rearrange the cups so often. She gave Louise the courtesy of her attention, limited though it was now that she had received her invitation.

  ''I'm not asking for a promise. I just want to know if the judge will understand this. I mean it is kind of an iffy thing, this intention stuff. It makes me nervous.''

  ''This intention stuff is what's going to get you what you want, Louise. If I were you I wouldn't open my mouth in the courtroom, try to explain anything, or add to it. I'm doing everything that needs to be done, and Gerry knows everything that's happening. I've talked to a psychologist and Lionel's doctor, we've deposed Sarah and I've been to the coroner. I've got the police reports to go over. I'm going to Tysco to check out things there. There are still a few things to look into, the paperwork to do and the appearance. Now you know everything I know. You know that I'm doing everything I can, and I hope that's good enough for you.''

  Kathleen looked straight into Louise's eyes. Today the contacts made them a bright green, the color of money, the color of jealousy. Kathleen looked deep, trying to sense something in the other woman that would make her fearful, but there was nothing. Louise might make her feel small, and unworthy, and almost stupid but all that had changed with a cream colored card sent by a man who worked only with the rich, the famous and the powerful. The invitation had brought a little bit of that to Kathleen. So now, looking at Louise, Kathleen only wanted to know if there was an evil in Louise Booker that Sarah understood but Kathleen couldn't fathom.

  Louise looked back, thinking thoughts of her own. Instinctively Kathleen knew those thoughts were about her. It was the first time the two women had faced one another without confrontation. A truce was too much to ask, but Kathleen would count herself lucky when Louise left with only a jab at the way she dressed instead of the way she comported herself as an attorney. But when Louise spoke, lucky wasn't how Kathleen felt. Thunderstruck was a more apt adjective.

  ''Okay. Thanks.'' Louise picked up her purse, a curious thing that couldn't decide whether it was a suitcase or a knitting bag.

  In the silence that followed, Louise Booker turned her back on Kathleen Cotter. Instead of walking out the door, she closed it quietly. The Louise who looked back from where she stood was tired or worried, Kathleen wasn't sure which, but subdued nonetheless. ''I know you don't much care for me. I know you think this mess is as low as the low lifes that caused it. I can understand that. I'm not stupid, you know. I've got a handle on myself. I'm not sure you have one on yourself, but what the heck, everybody has a little baggage. If you want to fool yourself that there's more than this out there, fine. But I'm straight, Kathleen. I'm not out to screw anyone, least of all that little dishwater blond. What I feel about her is pretty personal and wrapped up in a whole lot of stuff. I don't have time to worry about it. If I took the time I'd never do anything else. But the insurance thing, that's different. It's got a beginning and it's going to have an end.''

  ''Louise, I'm your lawyer. I don't need to know any of this. I don't make judgments about my clients.'' Uncomfortable with confession, she let her eyes drift away. This, she supposed, was her Pinocchio proclivity.

  ''Yes, you do.'' Louise smiled sadly, a wiser woman than Kathleen. During the hours of the deposition, her lipstick had worn off and, for the first time since Kathleen had met her, Louise Booker seemed less than a caricature. ''Never kid a kidder, Kathleen. You know, I didn't want Lionel to die. I sure as heck didn't want him to go the way he did. But it's over and done and now there are possibilities for me, you understand? Lionel's life is over, mine isn't. It's as simple as that. I mean, do you think we went through all that hassle getting an insurance policy because we thought Lionel was going to live forever? He was going to kick off sometime. So I don't know why you're looking down on me for wanting what everybody planned on.''

  ''I'm not looking down on you. . .''

  Louise stood tall, or so it seemed to Kathleen. Her eyes took on that steely look again. Kathleen Cotter might as well have stepped on her, so insulting was that lie.

  ''Yeah. Whatever, Kathleen. Just do what you have to do, and then we'll call it quits, okay?'' And she was out the door for good.

  ''Yes,'' Kathleen muttered as the door slammed. ''Then I'm gone. I'm gone.''

  Minutes later, Kathleen was out of the office, too, catching up with Louise a half a block away.

  ''Louise.'' Kathleen slowed her pace as she approached the other woman. Wary still, she spoke from ten paces then closed the distance slowly. ''I'm sorry about the way we've been. I'm not usually rude. If I have been to you, I'm sorry. You just kind of got all caught up in my expectations when I was way down.''

  ''Funny, that's exactly how I feel about you.''

  ''Fair enough.'' Kathleen looked toward the street. It was quiet. A car passed them by. She looked past Louise toward Wilshire Boulevard. Even from these two long blocks away she could see that the street was packed with cars. Most were turning north, not south. That's where success was. Louise and Kathleen stood on firmly on South Beverly, below Olympic, far beneath the people who traveled Wilshire. None of it mattered right then but it would later. When Kathleen was alone and thinking that she had only changed her geography, not her situation, it would matter. But right now the answer to one mystery did matter. ''If you didn't love Lionel anymore, then what have you got against Sarah Booker? Why waste any energy ignoring her and being rude to her and letting everyone know you're doing it?''

  Louise smirked and shook her head, amused to find that Kathleen was so naive. Real women couldn't be lawyers. They understood too much about life.

  ''It's this way,'' she said, holding out her hands to help in the explanation. The nails today were black like her jumpsuit. Louise had gone spiritual. Little angels played their harps and spread their wings across each tip. ''If Lionel loved Sarah - a mousy, weak kind of woman who hides from the world - and if he loved me, then it must mean she and I have something in common. I don't want to look at her tortured little face and think that Lionel saw the same thing when he looked at me. I don't want to think I was ever that weak. I have my pride.''

  Louise's head was up, her eyes ablaze. The memory of a man who disappointed her in life and disappointed her by marrying someone who was everything she wasn't, made her angry. Lionel had negated her. That was tough to take for a woman like Louise.

  ''I don't think Sarah Booker is weak at all,'' Kathleen countered cautiously. ''I think she's scared. Do you know what she might be scared of?''

  ''Life,'' she snorted. Vintage Louise was back.

  ''Is there someone she should be scared of?''

  Louise put on her sunglasses and lingered a moment before turning her back on Kathleen without giving an answer. She walked away. Kathleen didn't follow.

  Instead, she raised her face to the late afternoon sun. She never would have done that in the desert, but here a privileged breeze cut the heat down to warmth. It fooled everyone into thinking ultra-violet was their friend. The weather was relaxing instead of assaultive and it cradled her mind and let it wander.

  When she opened her eyes again Louise was two blocks down, one hip thrust out, her hands on both as she stared at something in a window. Kathleen wondered if Louise was planning how to spend the fortune when, and if, it was won. Perhaps she was looking at something she knew she would never have because she had no faith in Kathleen's ability. Perhaps Louise could buy whatever had caught her fancy. Who knew what Louise Booker was really about or what she already had. There was money to pay O'Doul & Associates, to have those nail masterpieces painted, to buy so many cheap clothes that Kathleen hadn't seen the same outfit twice. Perhaps it was all smoke and mirrors. Perhaps Louise was exactly what she was, an unfathomable mystery for Kathleen to solve. But solving it w
ould bring her nothing. Doing her job and finding out what, if anything, Lionel Booker intended before that needle went through his skin was something else. Much as she hated to admit it, Kathleen Cotter was hooked on the challenge Louise had brought to her. One battle had resulted in an uneasy peace between the two women. That would allow Kathleen to face the final one. It was time she put together her arsenal and her armor.

  Sighing, she turned away from Louise, feeling rather lonely. She seemed to be the only one who cared what really happened to Lionel Booker. Don Kelley only wanted enough to allow him to legally override All Life. Louise wanted the same. Sarah wanted to be left alone - she already knew as much as she wanted to know about Lionel. If Kathleen found evidence that Lionel had wanted to take his life, Sarah would never believe it. If she found evidence of a content man, Sarah would ask Kathleen to tell her something she didn't know. Gerry wanted Kathleen to succeed. So there she was, alone with the mystery of Lionel Booker, a clear calendar for mid-afternoon and a feeling that today was the day she should spend anywhere but inside the office with only Becky for company; Becky who would be crushed to know that Kathleen even dreamed that the invitation from Richard Jacobsen might be her ticket to the other side of Wilshire.

  Hurrying back to the office, Kathleen grabbed her purse and briefcase and was back out the door with a warning for Becky to take any messages - as if there would be a flood of them. Feeling free and in control and dedicated to her mission - a mission that set her apart from everyone - Kathleen got into her car, turned the radio loud and the air-conditioning on high. She drove and pretended that she hadn't heard some of the words Louise used that drew parallels, rather than put space, between them. She even allowed herself to think that there might be some good to come out of this after all. If she beat All Life and Tony Maglio, if she convinced Don Kelley that her suit had merit, there would be talk. And the talk would be of an attorney who came out of no where - literally - and made her mark. Richard Jacobsen might take notice. And, if she was so lucky as to actually have the man's ear for a moment, she would toot her own horn. Mom would turn over in her grave. But then again, Mom lived and died in Banning. Now that was something to consider.