Ever After (29 page)

“Mona, let's stop running and sit down somewhere, please.”

I flop on the green bench in a small park. I spread my arms across the back. Mona sits on the edge of the bench beside me. I'm soaking wet from nervous perspiration; I must stink like a raunchy old boar.

We're both breathing heavily—me from frustration and pent-up emotion, she from trying to run in those crazy boots, and probably something else.

“Are you going through with the trial or shall I phone Judge Higgins and everybody else to call it off? If we don't notify them and then you don't show, the judge will have a good reason to call us in contempt, all of us.”

“Well, as you know, Mona, I'm definitely in contempt, more so now than ever. I don't know yet what I'm going to do. But whatever I do, don't feel you have to go through with this farce because of me. I'll work it out somehow.”

“Will. Are we still friends?”

I don't know how to answer. I feel so betrayed, but I know I was betrayed by a situation beyond my control and hers, or Clint's. Only another trapdoor mind like Fox's, or perhaps Judge Higgins's, with some nudging from Fox, could understand and know what was going to happen.

“I'm still your friend, Mona, and I'd like you still to be mine. It's just we don't always dance to the same music.”

I can feel myself filling up, choking, on the brink of breaking down. I don't want that, not now. Mona looks away across this little park, this green oasis between high buildings. We're quiet again. She knows I'm trying to pull myself together.

“Will, I'd like you to come home with me. You can pull me off the case, never speak to me, but come home with me.”

She stops, bites her lips. I see she's having a hard time, too.

I can't speak. I can't look at her either. The whole shitty thing seems such a mess. I stand up. I barely get it out.

“OK, Mona, let's go. Lawyer and client, riding off into the sunset.”

A
FTER A
quiet dinner, where Mona's son, Jonah, does most of the talking and Mona makes noncommittal sounds at appropriate places and Tom grunts approval in the same way, I get up and clear the table.

Over Mona's objections, I fill the sink and prepare to wash things up. This is the kind of work I always do when I'm upset at home. It smooths things out, makes them better, organizes disorganization.

Twice Mona comes in, and twice I shoo her out of her own kitchen. She knows. After the dishes, I clean everything within reach, starting with the stove, the microwave, all the counters. I'm about ready to start scrubbing floors when Mona comes in again.

“They've all gone up to bed, Will. I'd like to go sit on the porch. I can smoke there without blowing my diseased lungs all over you and maybe we can talk.”

I follow her out the screen door. She reaches behind me and pulls the big door shut so it latches.

She sits on the wide railing, tests the wind with her forefinger, and lights up. I watch how, with only about four movements, she opens the pack, knocks one out, puts it in her mouth, and lights it. The smoke, illuminated by the street lamp in the dark, is like a fog. I pull a chair over from the other side of the porch and tuck it in the corner. She looks through the smoke at me.

“So where do we start?”

“I thought the question was how do we end it?”

She blows smoke slowly out her lips in what seems an unending stream. I could contemplate the twistings of that smoke in the back lighting of the street light for a long time.

“Well, Mona, I've been thinking while I was futzing around in your kitchen. I feel strongly that if I'd just stayed closer, pushed harder, paid more attention, I wouldn't be in the spot I'm in now. I succumbed to my own grief and anger. I didn't keep my eyes and ears open. I let experts do the things I should have been doing for myself. That was dumb. I trusted more than I should have. I was lazy.

“So now I don't have many alternatives. I will hate having to explain to Bert in my dreams what's happened. What I want to tell you now is strictly confidential between client and lawyer. Mona, I'm thinking of settling after all. I don't want any part of the animal act that's going to happen in that courtroom. This is between us, personally, professionally. Do you agree to that?”

“You mean I'm still part of the act?”

“Yes, you can play lion-tamer and double as the double-jointed lady.”

“It can't be this simple. What are you planning?”

“A 180-degree turn, but at top speed. You can be the driver, if you want, or just step out now. I'll need a navigator.”

“Come on, stop being such a wise-ass.”

“What's the latest figure Sampson has come up with for a settlement? I haven't been paying much attention because it didn't mean anything to me.”

“He's offered $60,000. It's Morgan who's in charge of these negotiations.”

“It's all so disgusting. Imagine, one can kill four people at only $15,000 a head. Bargain-basement murder.”

“It's not as simple as that, and you know it.”

“Yes, I know it, but I don't like it.

“There's obviously no sum of money which can compensate for what's happened. But, I won't accept anything less than twice that on any condition. Yes, it's blood-money, black, burned, blood-money, but that's where I am now.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I hope it's ‘we.'”

“I do, too.”

“Thanks. We'll go the way we've been going, refusing any offer. But no more expert witness crap. Let's see if we can cut our losses a bit.

“We give off vibes to Sampson, Fox, everybody, as if we're dead sure we have the trial in our pocket and don't intend anything except a jury decision. We make out as if we intend the trial to go on as long as we can keep it going. Steele, Cutler and Walsh isn't going to like that, neither is Judge Higgins. This might make Mr. Fox think a second time, too. They don't want a trial any more than anyone else.”

She starts to light another cigarette, then stops.

“So, what happens? Don't we do anything? What do I do with all the trial preparations I've made?”

“Save them, you might need them yet, Mona. I'm sorry. This is one aspect of this entire ploy that bothers me. You've worked hard and you'd have won, I know it.

“But you know that I've been aced out of what I needed to win—a big, live court-case with heavy coverage: we're not going to get that. And after the expenses and the pot money, legal and illegal, there wouldn't be much real money left at the end.

“Anyway, if we win we'd be forced into probate, then to an appeals court, waiting a year or more while the pittance that's left is reduced even more. You see, I've been reading some of your law books, and I have been listening to you.

“Then, by contract, I need to pay lawyer's fees to Steele, Cutler and Walsh for the appeals out of my pocket. I'd be lucky to pay off the debts I've already run up. Do you get the picture, Mona? Tell me where I'm wrong.”

Now she lights that cigarette. She puts her feet up onto the porch railing. She's staring up the street to the next street-lamp.

“I can't tell you where you're wrong. I'm not sure you're right all the way, but it could go that way. Don't worry about me and the case. I've been on salary. I'm not a partner, only an associate. I have a regular monthly salary just like any high-class secretary. But I still don't understand what you intend to do. Are you going to skip the trial or settle? And when?”

“Wait and see, Mona. They'll come after us soon enough. They think I'm a nutcase. They haven't yet made anything resembling a serious offer. So, for now, we're just not listening. As far as they know, we're only preparing to put them through the hoops in a courtroom.”

“Mitchell will be all over us to settle.”

“Yeah, he and just about everybody involved.”

She puts out her cigarette and stands up. I hope I've convinced her. I stand and open the door. She looks at me as she passes.

“I hope you know what you're doing.”

“You, as a lawyer, have only one thing to lose, and it isn't the case; it's the chance to win the case. In their eyes, and on their terms, I have everything to lose, but I've already lost it, so I have nothing more to lose. I don't think they've figured that one out.

“Think about it. In the morning, after you've slept on it, and you decide you want out, just tell me. I'll understand, I really will, and respect you for it.”

She goes up the stairs and I stay out on the porch a little longer. I'm wishing I could have the family with me.

T
HE NEXT MORNING,
while I'm driving Mona to her office, she keeps looking at me, not smoking, not saying anything until we're on the Hawthorne Bridge.

“OK, I've decided. I thought I'd never fall asleep last night. You deserve a chance to play it your way, crazy as it seems to me. But first I need to find out how late one can call off a civil trial without being cited for contempt. And I must do this without alerting anyone. I think I can trust Paula. She's an expert on these kinds of things. She's my best friend at the office.”

She looks at her watch and runs for the door.

“Boy, are there going to be a bunch of scared, shocked people in that office. It's almost worth getting fired just to see this. Stay at the house. I'll call probably in about an hour. I think Paula will have what I need by then and I'll have started pushing the buttons to abort lift-off.”

I return, and some time after breakfast the phone rings. I let it ring seven times for luck.

“Paula says we have until midnight tonight to cancel the trial. The bees are buzzing here. Mitchell took it out on me, then on Clint. But he really took it out on you. I told him you weren't going to abandon the trial, just push for a maximum settlement and what's wrong with that? According to him, everything. He says you're playing with the law and so forth. It was great.

“Now the bad news. Everybody insists that you come in and talk with Judge Steiner, another federal judge, who specializes in mediations. They've asked Fox to be there, too.”

“OK. When should I be there?”

“The first conference is scheduled for ten. I'll come get you. Put on your ‘lawyer's outfit.' You're really going to have to play lawyer, defendant, and plaintiff today.”

An hour later we're at the court-house. Clint, Mona, and I sit on one side of a little room; Fox, with Morgan, on the other. We don't even go through the handshaking ceremony, just short nods. There's an aura of hurry. I like that; it's a good sign. A secretary comes out and asks Mr. Fox and Mr. Morgan to follow her. Mona leans close to me.

“I think we're about to have a mediation toward settlement, or Morgan wouldn't be here. Everyone's turning desperate.”

Clint leans in close from the other side.

“I think you're right, Mona. They sure waited long enough.”

“I think they're beginning to suspect our client's really going for a trial, even if it's closed to the media.”

We sit there for the greater part of an hour. Then Fox and Morgan come out. They don't look at us. A few minutes later we're called into the room.

This mediation judge is tall with a pallid complexion. He doesn't look well. He asks us to sit down. He speaks briefly about the case, offers his condolences to me. He speaks slowly with his hands flat on the large table. He turns to me.

“You've indicated you do not wish to settle. Is that correct, Mr. Wharton?”

I nod, then remember the protocol and speak.

“That's right, your Honor.”

“Then why are you here in Portland?”

“For the trial, your Honor.”

“Well, I've just spoken to Mr. Fox and Mr. Morgan who represent Sampson National Carriers, Inc. in this matter and they've made what I consider a generous offer for settlement.”

I sit. It's starting. He looks me in the eyes. He's been in the game a long time. It's like staring into the eyes of Steve Carlton with a bat on your shoulder. He leans forward.

“They've offered $90,000 as a settlement. What do you feel about that?”

“I think I've made it clear enough that I do not intend to settle, your Honor. Even with the restrictions placed upon the trial by Judge Higgins, I'd prefer a jury trial to an out-of-court settlement. I believe strongly in the American system of law, your Honor, and out-of-court settlements are, to me, a denial of that system.”

He lifts his eyebrows, leans back and then looks down at his hands on the table, first one hand then the other.

“This trial is going to cost everybody a great deal of money and time. Our courts are full, mostly with drug or drug-related cases. Civil cases such as this can't take precedence. You do understand that, don't you?”

“The case is scheduled in Judge Higgins's court for tomorrow, sir.”

“Would you prefer a postponement?”

“No, your Honor. I've already been away from my family and work too long.”

“I see. Is there some figure you have in mind that you would consider a proper settlement?”

“I'd prefer not to settle, your Honor. A settlement such as you've presented would be an insult to my daughter, her husband, and their two babies. It's not possible.”

“That's how you feel?”

“Yes, your Honor.”

He turns to Clint and Mona.

“Would all of you please go back to the waiting-room? Ask Miss Gaitskill if she'll send in Mr. Fox and Mr. Morgan again.”

We stand up to leave. We pass Fox and Morgan on the way in. We keep straight faces, not really looking away, but not looking at them. It reminds me of bargaining for a rug in the Casbah in Algiers. We sit down. Mona nervously smiles at me.