The Namedropper (28 page)

‘It wouldn't have been right for me to have interceded,' declared Reid. ‘You'd won the point, hands down. If I had tried to add on more applications it would have defused everything.'

‘I know. Thank you,' said Beckwith.

They'd gathered in Reid's Raleigh office, after the local lawyer had smuggled Alyce out of the court and into a waiting car.

‘I will do, tomorrow, if it all goes well,' persisted Reid, defensively.

‘You did the right thing,' assured Beckwith. ‘I said I'm grateful.'

‘Any trouble getting Alyce away?' asked Jordan.

‘I don't think so. I didn't see any cameras.' Reid nodded to his telephone console. ‘There've been four or five media enquiries, asking me to call back. I'm not sure that I will.'

‘Alyce told me she doesn't want to be in court,' said Jordan.

Reid's face tightened, irritably, at Jordan's awareness. ‘She told me the same thing. She wants the judge to excuse her.'

‘You going to go to Pullinger with that?' asked Beckwith.

‘Certainly not before the case has even properly started,' said Reid.

‘I don't think it would be a wise application to make at any stage,' said Beckwith.

‘You think she's up to it: sitting through everything that's going to be said, all the details likely to come out?' asked Jordan.

Reid shrugged, uncertainly. ‘Apparently there's a lot of family pressure building up, disgrace and shame to the established dynasty, that sort of shit.'

‘Being excused court, to which I can't imagine Pullinger agreeing in the first place, isn't going to help, is it?' said Beckwith. ‘Alyce is involved in a divorce action, simple as that. She's got to hope you get Pullinger's agreement to a closed hearing. That'll give her the best protection she can hope for.'

‘And each day she's got to scuttle about like a cornered animal to avoid being photographed,' said Jordan.

‘Harvey! The media have got enough stock photographs of Alyce to open a picture gallery. If Bob gets a closed hearing the media pressure will relax after a couple of days and she'll settle down to the reality of what she's in and that'll be that.'

‘Medical reports are the focus of the moment,' said Jordan, looking between the two lawyers but stopping at Reid. ‘You've still got to get Pullinger's order to try to get those of Sharon Borowski. Why can't you get a doctor's request for Alyce to be excused on the grounds of mental and physical stress?'

‘Hey! Hey! Hey!' protested Beckwith, loudly. ‘Where the fuck are we going here? You appointing yourself Alyce's champion, defending her against all the woes of a collapsed marriage in which you are very much the exposed defendant! You're still in the shit right up to your chin and if what we started today doesn't work out in our favour, sinking down even further. Let's you and I worry about you and me and let Bob worry about Alyce and the reputation of her famous family, OK?'

‘She doesn't deserve to have to go through all this!' insisted Jordan. ‘Did you look at Appleton today? See what he looked like!'

‘We haven't sat through all the evidence yet: don't know what Alyce deserves or doesn't deserve to go through,' refused Beckwith. ‘You've got to come back on course – on board – to why and how you're here, what it could cost you and has already cost you and worry about your own ass, nobody else's. Not even an ass as cute as Alyce's. You hearing what I'm telling you, Harvey? Or are you going soft on me?'

Jesus Harry Christ! thought Jordan. Did he really need to hear what his lawyer was telling him! It was as if … He didn't want or need to know what it was. What he needed – as Beckwith had just told him – was to remember where he was, why he was there and how much in the end it was likely to cost him. ‘I was just trying to be fair,' he said, lamely.

‘Fairness has got nothing to do with anything,'
said Beckwith. ‘Start getting your priorities in order, OK?'

Twenty-Two

H
arvey Jordan was too experienced at performing, at
being
, someone else for there to be any outward indication of his shocked realization that he was showing the slightest concern for anyone other than himself, certainly somebody, however inadvertently, who had turned his life on its head as Alyce Appleton had done. He continued the review of the day's events with the two lawyers in Reid's office and responded sufficiently in the car returning him and Beckwith to the hotel, but the moment he got there was relieved to escape into the seclusion of his locked suite uninterruptedly to examine and analyze what he started out regarding as an inexplicable lapse.

As such it was unthinkable, virtually beyond comprehension. And there'd actually been previous warnings from Beckwith, before that day's very necessary and positive rebuke. But it didn't demand sackcloth-and-ashes penitence, Jordan reassured himself. There was even a partial, acceptable, self-explanation. The situation into which he'd been pitch-forked wasn't one to which he was accustomed and professionally skilled, unlike the environment – the bank account fraud being the most obvious – in which he knew practically by instinct every move and trick, was able to recognize every manoeuvre. It was
because
he knew every trick and manoeuvre that he'd adjusted and now had all his electronic spyholes already drilled: and because of them had that very day knocked Appleton's lawyer flat on his fat ass to end up, so far at least, hopefully with the judge tilting in Beckwith's – and therefore his – favour.

But it was still different from what he normally did and how he did it. Apart from his dealings with the New York banks he wasn't playing a part, pretending to be someone else whose identity he would shuck off like an unwanted skin when he'd achieved all that he wanted. In court he really was Harvey William Jordan, doing everything and more to escape an entrapment and its potential cost under an incredible medieval law comparable to the rack or being hanged, drawn and quartered, financially if not physically. So it made good and very practical sense to show consideration to Alyce, to protect her even, because from today's behaviour she was doing very little to protect herself, with the wheezing Bob Reid scarcely doing much more. Jordan had meant what he'd told her today. He didn't want to fight her: didn't feel any animosity towards her for what had happened. He didn't yet know – and couldn't anticipate – how he might need her but whatever and however that turned out to be, it was essential that at all times she remained on his side. Essential, too, that she confirmed that France had been nothing more than a holiday dalliance, ending with no commitments and no regrets but most importantly of all, with no alienation of any affections. He most certainly couldn't risk Alyce turning against him and changing her story – the true and genuinely honest story – if things started to go wrong with her case and her defence.

And Daniel Beckkwith should recognize that. Jordan determined that Beckwith definitely would if the lawyer started lecturing again at any time in the future about how he was treating Alyce. Because he'd spell out to the man the obvious reasons for doing so: let Beckwith know that what he was doing needed to be done solely for his own self-protection. Maybe remind the thwarted cowboy, even, of everything he'd done and suggested already to bring them out ahead in today's confrontations. For Reid or Beckwith or both of them to imagine that he actually had some lingering interest in Alyce beyond getting as far away from her and everything in which she had involved him was a load of crap. He'd tell Beckwith that, too, if it ever came up between them again.

It had been good to think things through, analyze everything in his mind. And he had analyzed it, subjectively as well as objectively. The two lawyers had got it wrong, perhaps understandably, and he had acknowledged how easily it had been for them to make the mistake. Now it was over, resolved in his mind which was the only consideration because his escape from each and every problem with which he was confronted was all that mattered.

Jordan was first in the bar after his nightly laptop session, freshly showered and changed ahead of either Beckwith or George Abrahams, with whom they'd fixed dinner before quitting the court. Abrahams, the next to arrive, hadn't changed his clothes but he appeared more relaxed outside both the court and his consulting rooms. Beckwith arrived again in jeans and the bison-figured belt and tooled cowboy boots, hair flowing unrestrained.

The conversation was awkwardly stilted in the beginning, Jordan initially happy to leave the obvious effort to Beckwith and the venerealogist, waiting for something of relevance before intruding himself, alert to an inviting opportunity. It came as he was completing the second drinks order, from a remark from Abrahams. There was an echo of something that had passed between the two lawyers during their earlier, after-court conference but Jordan seized it ahead of his own attorney.

‘Isn't there an agreed format, a template, in which these types of medical reports are prepared, for presentation to a court?' Jordan asked.

‘I don't believe so,' said Abrahams. ‘It's not particularly common: this is the first time in over a year, fourteen months to be exact, that I've been asked to prepare the sort of assessment I did upon you.'

Jordan looked between the doctor and his lawyer. To Beckwith he said, ‘I understood when I first arrived from England that it was far more frequent than that: that Dr Abrahams was your regular consultant?'

‘Dr Abrahams is the specialist I've called upon since I began practising in Manhattan. Twice, I think.'

‘Twice,' agreed the doctor.

‘So each specialist presents his assessments and findings on a case-by-case basis, in the form of his own choice?' persisted Jordan.

‘I suppose so,' said Abrahams.

‘In other situations – I'm not asking you to betray any other lawyer or case confidentiality – have you ever before encountered the sort of omission about antibodies or antigens that was thrown up today?' asked Jordan, who was unsure if the doctor's pause following the question was for recall or the man's reflection upon confidentiality.

Eventually Abrahams said, ‘I've come across it once before. It was the first time the venerealogist for the other side had prepared such a court assessment. It was lack of experience, not an intentional withholding.'

‘What are you suggesting the fault is in this case?' seized Beckwith.

‘I'm not
suggesting
anything,' bristled the man.

‘It sounded to me as if you were surprised in this particular case,' said Beckwith.

‘Dr Chapman is a recognized microbiologist in the field of sexually communicable infections,' said Abrahams. ‘He's published, to some professional acclaim, two specific papers, one even more specifically upon chlamydia. I would not have expected him to have ignored antibody reference or evidence, either positive or negative.'

‘Surely a positive finding would be of the utmost significance!' pressed the lawyer.

‘Of course it would,' finally confirmed Abrahams, his familiar testiness returning.

Beckwith did not respond to Jordan's look, although Jordan was sure the other man was conscious of his attention. As he was sure of several other things. One was that Abrahams had been reluctant, without pressure, to appear to criticize a colleague whose publicly acknowledged work the man admired. Another was that Chapman's reputation beyond Boston hadn't been established by either lawyer, which yet again was more a failing of Reid, to whose case it was of more direct importance than Beckwith's, although after that morning's hearing that was now arguable. And the third was that if he hadn't persevered – although Jordan accepted he hadn't started out with any targeted intention – another potentially important discovery wouldn't have been made. Quickly he said, ‘What about Dr Lewell?'

‘I know nothing of Dr Lewell's work,' replied the man. ‘I did not know of her until this case.'

‘The English examination that I underwent before coming here?' Jordan asked Abrahams. ‘What did you think of it, professionally?'

Again Abrahams hesitated, before saying, ‘Muddled. Completely inadequate.'

‘Which was why I arranged the second examination by Dr Abrahams,' stressed Beckwith.

‘Had you already exchanged that initial, inadequate English report with the lawyers representing Appleton and Leanne Jefferies?'

Now it was Beckwith who hesitated, recognizing the possible inference from the question. At last he said, ‘Yes. That's why I had it carried out in England, as part of the accepted, pre-court exchanges. Then I changed my mind and decided we needed something from an American specialist.'

‘Without telling the other side?'

Beckwith nodded but did not speak.

Jordan said, ‘So, until you officially exchanged the second report they would have thought you were proceeding upon the first, English findings, findings which Dr Abrahams has just told us were muddled and completely inadequate?'

‘You've made your point, Harvey.'

‘Good,' said Jordan. ‘Why don't we go and eat?'

Jordan breakfasted in his room, more interested in accessing his computer sites than eating. He was disappointed that there was no email traffic but remembered that neither the opposing lawyers nor the Boston venerealogists had local facilities and that any communication would have been restricted to telephone or possibly hotel faxes. The overnight arrangement had been for Jordan and the microbiologist to link up with the two lawyers at Reid's office, although Beckwith was alone when they reached it. Jordan hadn't bothered with television in his suite, so the local newspaper coverage he'd read in the taxi, relegated to an inside page, was the first he'd seen of the previous day's court opening. The legal restrictions limited the account to the basic facts of the pre-hearing application being postponed on a procedural technicality, to be reconvened that day. The stock photograph of Alfred Appleton was from his yachting days, which made the image virtually unrecognizable as the man whom Jordan had seen in court the previous day and because of the way she had dressed herself down, with practically no make-up, the library picture of Alyce wasn't a good representation, either.