Life Support (20 page)

“Yes.”

Jeffrey frowned. “I've heard about her. She handles a lot of divorces. She nailed a friend of mine last year, and he had to give his wife twice what he offered before trial.”

“What's wrong with that?” Rena asked. “He was probably going to rip her off.”

The frown was replaced with an impish grin. “Probably. Women usually stick together, but anybody who works for Ralph Leggitt is in my father's back pocket. That's why I went to Charleston for legal advice. Leggitt & Freeman is okay for business matters, but for personal protection, I want my own attorney.”

“But Alexia told me everything we discussed was confidential.”

“It is until the lawyers have to pick sides. If her firm has to choose between my father and you, who will they pick?”

Rena's face flushed. “She mentioned a possible problem but told me I could trust her.”

Jeffrey gave her a cynical look. “Don't be naive. I've never met a lawyer who wasn't looking out for themselves first and the client second. Male or female doesn't make any difference.”

“Then I don't know who to trust.”

Jeffrey took a sip of wine. “You can trust me.”

Rena looked into his eyes but couldn't see beneath the surface. “Why?”

“We have more in common than you suspect.”

“What do you mean?”

“After seeing Baxter, I agree it would be cruel to keep him alive by artificial means.”

Rena's heart leaped. “Does that mean you will talk to your father about ending life support?”

Jeffrey nodded. “Yes. At the right time.”

17

The aim of forensic oratory is to teach.

CICERO

G
wen buzzed Alexia.

“Prince Pinchot wants to see you,” she said.

Before working for Alexia and Leonard Mitchell, Gwen had served as Kenneth Pinchot's legal secretary. She had jumped at the chance to switch, even though it meant working for two lawyers instead of one.

“Is that what you called him when you worked for him?” Alexia asked.

“You don't want to know what I called him behind his back.”

“Okay, tell him I'll be there shortly.”

Alexia smiled. Pinchot's arrogant confidence rubbed Gwen the wrong way. Alexia could tolerate an egotistical lawyer if he or she backed it up by superior performance in the courtroom. She'd assisted Pinchot in several trials. He was meticulous in preparation and calm and thoughtful when questioning a witness. His methods occasionally lulled enemies into letting down their guard—a lapse they later regretted.

The senior partner stood in the hall outside his office as Alexia approached. Pinchot wore professionally tailored suits with a monogrammed shirt and silk tie. His idea of casual dress at the office was a sport coat and tie. Today, he was wearing a banker's gray suit.

“Alexia, can you spare a couple of hours? I'm in the second day of a trial, and a witness can't make it, so I'm going to have to use a deposition we took several months ago. My paralegal was going to read the answers, but she's gone home with a fever.”

“Yes. What kind of testimony?”

“I'll tell you as we go.”

They walked down the hall and out the door. Pinchot drove a new Mercedes. Alexia waited for him to open the door for her. She'd learned that the older lawyer was insulted if he wasn't allowed to play the gentleman's role.

“You're a witness to a will,” Pinchot said as he started the car's motor. “There was a caveat filed by the children of the first wife against the children of the second wife. They claim undue and improper influence by wife number two in favor of her children. Both wives predeceased the man.”

“Where is the witness to the will?” Alexia asked.

“That depends on your belief in the hereafter,” Pinchot replied dryly. “She died a few weeks after we took her deposition. She was a secretary at the law firm that prepared the second will.”

“Which group of children do we represent?”

“Wife number two's brood.”

Pinchot turned the corner onto the street that led to the courthouse and continued. “The two children of the second wife receive 80 percent of the estate, and the four children from the first wife split the remaining 20 percent.”

“Ouch.”

“You'll understand when you read the deposition transcript. You'll have a few minutes before you're called to the witness stand.”

The most common instance of reading a deposition occurred with the testimony of doctors who didn't want to sit in court until called to the witness stand. Reading lay testimony was less frequent.

“How old am I?” Alexia asked.

Pinchot grinned. “Sixty-eight. You've been a legal secretary for forty-five years.”

They parked along the street. City leaders wanted to encourage people to come to the downtown area, so there weren't any parking meters.

For generations, the courthouse in Santee had reflected the poverty years of the South Carolina coast that lasted without significant interruption from 1865 to 1939. A painting of the old courthouse, a one-story building built with dirty brown bricks similar in color to the ones used by the ancient Egyptians, still hung in the main lobby of the newer building. The burst of manufacturing activity that swept across the region during World War II broke the bondage of economic slavery, and shipyards and military installations brought high-paying jobs to the area.

Then the tourism boom that began in the 1960s carried the Low Country to a level of prosperity not known since cotton and rice sat on the wharves of Charleston. The old courthouse was demolished without regret in the 1970s and a structure erected that reflected the architecture of the prosperous coast. Built to look older than it was, the imposing building was faced with sandstone and had a red tile roof.

Alexia and Pinchot walked through metal detectors that were unplugged and unguarded. The local sheriff 's office only sent deputies to the security checkpoints on busy court days. The rest of the time the two courtrooms on the main floor were unprotected from terrorists; however, the greater dangers to the public safety were from hotheaded exhusbands and the friends of criminal defendants. It wasn't unusual for the deputies to confiscate a wickedly long knife or two during a two-week term of court.

The trial was in the smaller of the two courtrooms. It was a long, rectangular room with a high ceiling and plaster walls painted a pale yellow. Fake columns stood in the corners for decoration. The jury box was to the left and featured fixed chairs that both swiveled and rocked. The judge's bench, made of dark walnut, stretched across the front. Most divorce trials were held in this courtroom, and Alexia liked the acoustics. The larger courtroom was reserved for serious criminal matters and major civil suits.

Alexia sat behind the bar and began skimming the deposition while Pinchot and the attorney on the other side prepared for the afternoon session. Pinchot's clients, a man and woman in their early thirties, were seated with him. At the opposite table sat a younger lawyer with four middle-aged people clustered around him. Judge Garland entered and everyone stood.

“Are you ready for the jury to come back in?” the judge asked.

Pinchot spoke. “We need to discuss use of a deposition in lieu of live testimony. The witness is now deceased.”

The judge looked toward the other attorney, a young man about Alexia's age whom she didn't recognize.

“Any objection, Mr. Harrison?”

“Your Honor, I was not representing my clients at the time this deposition was taken, and it was conducted before additional information came to light that raises serious questions about the credibility of the witness who was deposed. To allow the deposition to be read into the record without an adequate opportunity for cross-examination would be seriously prejudicial to my clients.”

“Mr. Pinchot?” the judge asked.

Pinchot cleared his throat and stepped from behind the table.

“Judge, I appreciate Mr. Harrison's dilemma; however, there was nothing to prevent the caveator's previous lawyer from conducting a thorough investigation prior to the deposition of the witness. Furthermore, at the time the testimony was given, it was clearly stated on the record that the deposition was being taken for discovery and any other purposes allowed by the civil practice act. That includes use of the deposition at trial if the witness is unavailable.”

“Were those the stipulations?” the judge asked the younger lawyer.

“Yes, sir. But it was assumed that the witness would be available for trial.”

“She's not,” the judge replied curtly, “and I'll allow the deposition to be read.”

“May I interpose objections to the testimony that were not made at the time of the deposition?” Harrison asked.

“Yes, I'll give you that latitude so long as you don't abuse it. Bring in the jury.”

After the judge gave an explanation about use of deposition testimony to the jury, Pinchot called Alexia to the witness stand. Her mission was to become Mrs. Helen Jacklett. After several background questions, Pinchot cut to the heart of the issue.

“Mrs. Jacklett, do you remember the day that Mr. Keiffer came into the office to sign the will that has been marked as Exhibit A?”

“Yes, sir,” Alexia answered. “It was in the spring shortly before Easter.”

“Did you have any personal acquaintance with Mr. Keiffer prior to that time?”

“Oh, yes. He had been a client almost as long as I'd worked at the office. We were on a first-name basis and had talked hundreds of times over the years.”

“Based on your contact with him during the months prior to signing the will, how would you describe his mental state?”

“Sharp as ever. He was a very successful businessman, always on top of what was going on. Even after he retired, I think his company called him in as a consultant and—”

“Objection,” Harrison said. “Hearsay and lack of personal knowledge.”

“Sustained.”

“Begin at line 25,” Pinchot said.

Alexia glanced down the page. “He called me several weeks before changing his will and told me he wanted to redo his estate plan. I didn't ask him why, but he mentioned several reasons.”

“What were those reasons?”

Harrison was on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. That would be double hearsay. Neither Mr. Keiffer nor Mrs. Jacklett is available for cross-examination on this information and the testimony is therefore unreliable and prejudicial.”

Judge Garland compressed his lips. “Gentlemen, approach the bench.”

The lawyers stepped forward. Alexia knew what was about to happen but leaned close to listen.

“Mr. Harrison,” the judge said in an intense whisper, “if Mr. Keiffer were still alive, we wouldn't be trying this case. His mental state during the time the will was prepared is the issue on trial, and I've already ruled that the testimony of this witness on this question can be presented by deposition.”

Pinchot spoke up. “I'm sure Mr. Harrison is aware of the law, Your Honor. His objection was for the jury, not the court.”

“Your Honor,” Harrison began, “if you allow—”

The judge interrupted in a voice that Alexia suspected carried all the way to the jury box. “Mr. Harrison, your objection is overruled, and if you make another objection on similar grounds, I will consider sanctions against you and your clients. Is that understood?”

The young lawyer's face flushed. “Yes, sir.”

“Proceed.”

Pinchot stepped back and spoke to Alexia. “Please, answer the question.”

“He told me that the children of his first wife had depleted the assets of the inter vivos trust he'd established for them during a gambling trip to Las Vegas, and he wanted to change his will to leave most of his property to the children of his second wife.”

“Did he mention how much money was lost through gambling?”

Alexia saw Harrison squirming in his seat, but he kept his mouth shut.

“More than $200,000 during a Christmas vacation attended by all four of the children.”

“Did he give any other reasons for changing his will?”

Alexia looked toward the jury before she answered. “Yes, he mentioned that two of the children of his first wife wouldn't let him see his grandchildren. He wasn't even sure if the presents he sent the grandchildren on their birthdays were being delivered.”

Several jurors looked toward Harrison's clients and frowned. The witness then described in detail the events surrounding the signing of the will. Pinchot's questions brought the jury into the room with Mr. Keiffer. He then moved to the events surrounding the signing of the will.

“Did Mr. Keiffer express a clear understanding of the natural objects of his affection?”

“Yes. He named all his children and talked about each one. He expressed regrets about the conduct of the older children but still wanted to leave them something from his estate.”

“Was Mrs. Keiffer present at the will signing?”

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“She told him to do whatever he wanted to do.”

“Did she try to influence him in any way to favor her children?”

“No. Not at all.”

The cross-examination of the witness in the deposition by the other side's first lawyer was inept and only reinforced the direct testimony. Alexia had read ahead enough to know that it would be fun to repeat the responses; however, when Pinchot finished, Harrison stood and said, “No questions, Your Honor.”

Alexia returned to her seat and listened to Pinchot conduct his direct examination of one of his clients, a woman who lived in Brunswick, Georgia. It was classic Pinchot. The client cried at the right time when talking about her father and avoided sounding like a greedy child. Pinchot knew better than anyone how to bring the focus of the jury onto his client. His direct examination questions floated softly across the courtroom without being intrusive. Harrison's cross-examination was valiant but didn't shake the witness's credibility. When the woman stepped down, Alexia tapped Pinchot on the shoulder.