The Namedropper (22 page)

‘But not here in Manhattan?'

‘This is a new address, since I got back from France. What about …?' Alyce trailed to a halt again.

‘What?'

‘My arm's getting tired, holding the phone up for so long.'

He needed the continuing conduit, Jordan reminded himself again. ‘Your guy – and mine – insisted we shouldn't meet unchaperoned.'

‘Which I think is bullshit.'

‘That's what we're employing them for – advice.'

‘I still think it's bullshit. We're adults, for Christ's sake!'

‘Looking at a lot of potential problems we don't want to make any worse.'

‘I shouldn't have started this.' The smile had gone from her voice.

‘Nothing's started.' He needed her, Jordan recognized. Needed her as a source of information and needed her support if she had to be a witness at the dismissal hearing. And he knew from accessing the Watchdog computer less than an hour ago that neither he nor Alyce remained under any surveillance.

‘Let's forget it,' she said, tightly.

‘What were you thinking of?'

‘I don't know what I was thinking of. It's not important.'

‘We're each of us too dependent upon the other to fall out.'

‘Who's falling out?'

‘It sounds to me like we could be. The first time I made the mistake and I apologized, twice.'

‘It just seems so … I don't know … childish I guess, that we can't talk to each other properly.' Now the impatience had gone.

‘It would be better if you came here, somewhere public, and we had dinner very publicly in the restaurant, rather than me coming to your apartment.'

‘I wasn't inviting you to my apartment.'

‘Then my suggestion works. I'll make a reservation and be waiting for you in the lobby … say seven, seven thirty.'

There was a brief silence from the other end of the line before Alyce said, ‘I'll be there at seven.'

There'd be a minimal insurance in telling Daniel Beckwith, Jordan supposed. But not tonight. Afterwards.

Alyce Appleton came into the hotel lobby precisely at seven with the self-assurance of someone who knew her rightful place in such moneyed surroundings; an impression that had come to Jordan in France but which he had forgotten until now. She saw him at once – which he'd intended, unlike the initial subterfuge at the Carlton – and continued on without pause, her face opening into a smile as she reached him. The blonde hair was loose and he saw at once that the diamond ring had been discarded, as well as the wedding ring. The shawl over one shoulder matched the blue of her skirt and made the perfect contrast against the paler sweater and Jordan was conscious of the looks that followed her, from women as well as men.

She said, ‘Hi. Quite like old times, meeting in hotels again!'

‘Not quite the same, though,' qualified Jordan, surprised by the lightness.

‘Perhaps not,' she agreed, falling into step as he led towards the bar. She chose mineral water to his martini. As they touched glasses she said, ‘You want to know a secret?'

‘As many as there are to know,' Jordan said, meaning it.

‘I almost chickened out at the last minute, about coming tonight. I actually went back from the corridor into my apartment, to think.'

‘Why didn't you?'

Alyce shrugged. ‘This is my call, isn't it, us meeting like grown-ups? I thought about what we discussed on the phone, about Alfred and Leanne still being together.'

‘Are they?' pounced Jordan, at once. ‘Have Bob's enquiry people come up with something?'

She shrugged again. ‘I mean about what you said, about their both being represented by the same firm. Bob hasn't told me anything of what his detectives have discovered. That's what they are, aren't they? Detectives?'

‘I guess,' dismissed Jordan, disinterested in an immaterial definition; he knew from his earlier exploration of Reid's computer that there had been no email contact from any enquiry agency. ‘But you changed your mind again and now you're here.'

‘And I'm glad. What happened in France was wonderful and what's happened since is total, awful shit and I like the idea of our being able to behave for a couple of hours as normal people – as friends, most definitely not lovers – and now we've got it out of the way I want to stop talking about it. There!'

‘Very positive,' judged Jordan.

‘I used to be once, before I married Alfred. He took me over. Mr Svengali.'

‘I didn't get the impression of you being beaten into submission in France.'

‘In France I'd escaped. I was free. It was a good feeling. One I hadn't known for far too long. Not since …'

Jordan waited and when she didn't continue said, ‘Not since when?'

Alyce shook her head. ‘France really was wonderful. Immediately before that, back here, I'd actually tried therapy, imagining it was my fault everything had gone wrong with the marriage. This is beginning to sound just like one of those therapy sessions, without the couch and with more noise. I don't want to talk about it any more, OK?'

No it's not OK, thought Jordan, disappointed. He said, ‘OK. Why don't we eat?'

He'd personally chosen a corner banquette table at which they could sit side by side but separated at its apex, looking out over the dining room. She deferred to him choosing the wine, as he had in France, and restricted herself to two glasses, again as she had in France. He accepted her suggestion of the Chesapeake soft shelled crabs and they shared a Chateaubriand. Jordan cut short Alyce's renewed apology for him becoming involved in the divorce action and they agreed that neither was looking forward to the following week's court hearings.

‘Who's ever heard of an affair being described as a criminal conversation, for Christ's sake!' exclaimed Alyce. ‘It must date from the time we burned witches.'

‘Everyone in North Carolina has heard of it, apparently,' replied Jordan, ignoring the rhetoric. ‘And I agree it's unbelievable that laws like it still exist in the United States of America … exist anywhere that imagines itself to be halfway civilized. Our problem is that there's nothing we can do about it except go with the system, as half-assed as it is.'

‘Does Dan really think he can get you dismissed from the case?'

‘I guess he wouldn't be trying if he thought it would be a total waste of time.'

‘When are you going down to Raleigh?'

‘Somewhen over the weekend, I suppose. I've agreed to Dan making the arrangements. You?'

‘The same, I guess. You know where you're staying?'

Jordan shook his head. ‘Dan says there isn't a wide choice.'

‘There isn't. I'm glad I changed my mind tonight and came after all. It reminds me a lot of France.'

‘But for the differences we've already agreed.'

‘But for the differences we've already agreed,' she echoed, smiling. ‘That reminds me of France, too. Saying the same things to each other.'

‘No doubt whatsoever?' queried Jordan, although he accepted there couldn't be from what Daniel Beckwith had just told him.

‘Read it for yourself,' suggested Beckwith, pushing the venerealogist's report across the desk.

Jordan did, twice. Looking back up to the lawyer he said, ‘So how did Alyce, who says I was her only other sexual partner apart from her husband, contract chlamydia?'

‘That's what I asked Bob, before you got here this morning. And what he's going to ask her.'

‘What else did he say?'

‘That Alyce is thirty-one years old and if she's only ever had two lovers so far she's the next in line to the Virgin Mary.'

‘That's not funny.'

‘Bob wasn't trying to be funny. He's one big pissed off attorney.'

‘Alyce lied: is lying,' decided Jordan, the awareness spreading through him. He hadn't learned anything from the Carlyle dinner, making it a waste of time, but he'd had that time to waste and he'd enjoyed being with her – and talking to her again the following day when she'd telephoned to thank him – and now he knew she'd been treating him like a fool – treating all of them like fools.

‘She's got to be lying, hasn't she?' said Beckwith. ‘It's knocked Bob's case to hell and back. He'd just read Leanne Jefferies' medical report when I spoke to him this morning. She's clean, too.'

‘I met her this week,' suddenly declared Jordan, knowing that it was essential that he did. ‘The same day that I got back from London. We had dinner together.'

‘You met Leanne Jefferies?' frowned Beckwith, confused.

‘Alyce,' corrected Jordan. ‘She called me after I spoke to you that morning. Called it childish that we shouldn't meet. You should know.'

‘You're damned right I should know!' erupted the lawyer, his face colouring. ‘We told you, Bob
and
I, that you shouldn't be together without one of us being there as well. Why the fuck …?'

‘It did seem childish that we couldn't meet, like two normal people,' said Jordan, defensively. ‘We had dinner, talked …'

‘Stop right there, right now!' ordered Beckwith, his face redder with anger, holding up a hand. ‘Did you sleep with her?'

‘No, I didn't sleep with her!'

‘You sure?'

‘What the fuck do you mean, am I sure! Of course I'm sure! How could I not be sure?'

‘I want it all … what you ate, what you drank, who you saw or who might have seen you, every single thing you said and talked about to each other … every fucking thing you did!'

‘Let's work your questioning backwards,' insisted Jordan, refusing the returning intimidation. ‘We didn't fuck. The conversation came down to reminiscences, of France, apart from Alyce telling me that during their marriage Appleton psychologically controlled her. We would have been seen, by the hotel CCTV, always in public places. We had one drink, in the bar – she drank water, I had one martini – we ate soft shelled crabs and steak, with a vintage Chateau Margaux. I got the concierge to call her a cab and personally put her into it, all of which should be shown on the CCTV and confirmed by the hotel staff. We weren't alone or out of sight for a minute and we can prove it. OK?'

‘No, not OK,' rejected Beckwith, stridently. ‘You were told, both of you, not to get together in any way or circumstance that could be construed that your relationship was ongoing. Whether you considered that advice childish or stupid doesn't come into any calculation or thinking. It doesn't matter a damn what you think or whether or not you agree with that advice. That's what you're paying a whole bunch of money for me to provide and why you're stupid, if you choose to ignore it. We know now – and the court is going to know – that Alyce has lied. And the court is also going to know – because I've got to tell them to avoid being made to look a jerk if I don't tell them and there's even more photos of you and Alyce in a hugger-mugger hotel setting – that you're still seeing each other. Which totally fucks my plan of insisting next week that there is no continuing relationship, that you're not trying to alienate Alyce's affections and that you're not engaging in every definition of criminal conversation, according to the relevant North Carolina statute …' The man paused, breathless.

Recovering, he said, ‘I don't think I've missed any of the important points of how well you've done blowing your defence to a multi-million-dollar damages claim right out of the water, do you, Harv? You think I've overlooked something, why don't you tell me?'

‘It's Harvey. My name is Harvey, not Harv.'

‘At this precise moment you name is cunt-of-the-month. Alyce Appleton has a string through your nose ring and you could end up a very poor man.'

‘Leanne Jefferies' attorney is from the same firm representing Appleton,' argued Jordan, weakly. ‘Doesn't that indicate they're still together?'

Beckwith sat staring across the table at Jordan, unspeaking, until finally Jordan said, exasperated, ‘What?'

‘Let me ask you what. What the fuck has that got to do with anything? It's nothing whatsoever to do with you, with us, with our case. If Appleton is still fucking Leanne's brains out that's for Bob to prove and get Leanne to pay for, for her criminal conversations. I'm trying to get you off the hook and you've stuffed it right up your own ass. You know what I'd like to do right now? I'd like to withdraw from this case and from representing you. I think you've put me into a no-win situation and I'm a
win
person, not the other way round.'

‘So why don't you withdraw?'

‘Because if I did I'd render you unrepresentable by any other attorney, which would leave you swinging in the wind, and I've got more integrity than that. I'll go on doing my absolute and very best and you'll pay through the nose for every second that I'm doing it. Until today trying to help you was damage minimization. Now it's damage limitation, with whatever minimization I can work in as a bonus.'

‘I suppose I should thank you.'

‘I've had more than a gutful of what you suppose and I couldn't give a bag of rotting shit for your gratitude. I'll have to tell Bob about your tryst, obviously. Now we'll have to go down to Raleigh tomorrow, give ourselves as much time as possible to see what he's going to do and re-assemble my submission …' The lawyer hesitated, halted by an afterthought. ‘You got any more hand-holding assignations planned with Alyce, the forgetful virgin?'

‘No. And we didn't hold hands. Or anything else.'

‘Good,' said Beckwith. ‘And don't, not ever again.'

Eighteen

T
here was a palpable tension between the three of them in Reid's office annex on that deserted Saturday. Dividing them, on Reid's desk, were the finally supplied medical reports on Alfred Appleton and Leanne Jefferies, as well as covering letters and copies of the woman's rebuttals to Alyce's criminal conversation damages claim. There were, also for the first time, photographs of Appleton's supposedly brief mistress. Jordan was not surprised that, although older by six years, Leanne closely resembled Alyce in appearance and physique, confirming the adage that men always chose lovers that reminded them of their wives.