The Associate

by Rachel Sinclair

  I asked him his name, and he answered. And something seemed off to me.

  His voice was high-pitched and he had a slight Southern twang.

  That was when I realized that my gaydar was pinging with this guy. It was just in the way that he walked and it was also in his voice. I blinked my eyes. Was this really Shelly’s other man? Besides my client and Yasin, supposedly this was the other man who was causing so many problems in Shelly’s life and in her relationship. But what if we were totally off base about this?

  Irina was also on my witness list. Maybe she could provide the jury better insight.

  “Um, Mr. Armstrong,” I began, suddenly wanting to ask pinpointed questions to find out his sexuality. Garrett had indicated that Wells was married to a woman named Naomi, but he got the impression that it was a marriage of convenience. A marriage of convenience. My wheels started to spin. “Do you understand why I’ve called you to testify today?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I think.”

  “I wanted to ask you some questions about your relationship with the deceased, Shelly McMason. Now, it’s my understanding that you met Ms. McMason last summer, is that right?”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  “And you met her through an escort service, is that right?”

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I needed a date,” he said defensively. “To a white-tie event in Santa Barbara, California. I hired an escort because I didn’t want to appear at this big event without a woman. That was why I hired her. No other reason than that.”

  “Be that as it may, you did hire her, isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, but it was strictly platonic. She accompanied me to this event and that was that.”

  “But that wasn’t that, was it? You actually continued to see her long after that event. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes,” he said. “But it’s not what you think. Shelly became a friend of mine, a confidant. And she and I were working on a very important project.”

  “An important project. What was that project?”

  He took a deep breath. “Shelly was in need of some information from me, or should I say, she was in possession of some very important information for me. It was a mutual thing. A quid pro quo, you might say.”

  “A quid pro quo?” I asked him. I was suddenly intrigued. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I mean that I provided her with a comfortable living, and she provided me with some information that I needed for my business. In the end, it backfired spectacularly, but I always land on my feet.”

  “And what was the information that she was providing for you?”

  He cocked his head. “I believe that I will have to plead the Fifth on that. I’m very sorry.”

  He was pleading the Fifth? He was afraid that he was going to self-incriminate? Seriously?

  “Okay,” I said, suddenly realizing that this guy was probably far more of an intriguing witness than I thought he was going to be. I figured that he would tell me about his sexual relationship with Shelly, and would tell us something that would lead the jury to believe that maybe Yasin had reason to kill Shelly – if this guy and Shelly were hooking up behind Yasin’s back, that would have driven Yasin to kill her. “You are not going to provide me the information that you were getting from Shelly because that information would self-incriminate you. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I consulted my attorney before I was called to testify, and he informed me that I have a right not to say anything that would self-incriminate me. So, I cannot tell you the information that Shelly provided me because if I did, I would incriminate myself.”

  I closed my eyes. I suddenly felt that I was at a standstill with this witness. He was more mysterious than I had thought he would be. It didn’t appear that Shelly and he had a sexual relationship after all. I felt that he was probably gay and, if anything, Shelly was his beard. But I no longer thought that his relationship with Shelly would have bothered Yasin enough to kill her. This was a harmless gay man. Yasin, from all accounts, was a liberated and modern man. I couldn’t see him killing Shelly because she had a gay friend.

  “I have nothing further for this witness,” I said. I suddenly knew that I was going to have to piece together Wells’ issue by calling Irina to the stand. Maybe she could provide more insight to me about what was going on. I had spoken with her before, of course, and she emphasized that Shelly wanted to meet men who were highly placed in the pharmaceutical industry. She didn’t exactly say why that was. Perhaps she could elaborate now. She would be placed under oath, so she couldn’t weasel out like she did before. She would have to answer my questions. If she failed to, I would treat her as hostile and make her answer.

  I was going to get to the bottom of what Wells was hiding, if it was the last thing I did.

  “Counselor,” Judge Clarion said to Nick. “Do you have any questions for this witness?”

  “No, your honor,” he said, smirking at me. I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking that my calling Wells to the stand just blew up in my face. He figured that he was going to give me enough rope to hang myself, and nothing more.

  No matter. I was going to figure this puzzle out, or die trying.

  “Mr. Harrington,” Judge Clarion said. “Please call your next witness.”

  “The defense calls Irina Kavokosky.”

  The bailiff went out into the hallway and retrieved Irina.

  She was wearing a suit with a fur collar and tall heels that were leopard print. Her hair was bleached white, and she was wearing a little fur hat on her head. Her skirt was about two sizes too tight, and she was almost spilling out of her jacket. Her lips were bright red, and she was wearing heavy eye-shadow. She walked rapidly to the stand, sat down, and glared at me.

  I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about how her tits were freezing in this weather. How she wanted to get back to the warm weather of LA as soon as possible. No matter, she was here now. And she was going to answer some serious questions.

  She was sworn in and stated her name, and I got right to it.

  “Ms. Kavokosky, I would like to ask you a few questions about Shelly McMason and Wells Armstrong. You are responsible for the two getting together, are you not?”

  “Yes,” she said, in her thick accent. “I am.”

  “Now, as I understand it, you run an escort service in Los Angeles. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I do.”

  “And was it through this escort service that you introduced Ms. McMason to Mr. Armstrong?”

  “Yes. That’s correct.”

  “What was it about Shelly that convinced you that she would be a good match for Mr. Armstrong?”

  “Shelly was a beautiful and charming young girl,” she said. “And very intelligent and witty. Well educated, good breeding, knew her etiquette. She wouldn’t have embarrassed Mr. Armstrong.”

  “When you hired Shelly, did she tell you about the men that she was interested in meeting?”

  “Yes. She said that she wanted to meet men who were well-placed in the pharmaceutical industry. CEOs and high-level executive officers in the pharmaceutical industry.”

  “And were you aware that Shelly’s father was in the pharmaceutical industry?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “What was your understanding as to exactly why Shelly wanted to only meet men who were high up in the pharmaceutical industry?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really know.”

  “You don’t know? She never said anything to you about why she wanted to meet men from the pharmaceutical industry?” If I elicited the answer that I thought that I might, it would be another statement against interest, and hopefully Shelly’s answer wouldn’t be stricken as hearsay.

  “No. I don’t know.”

  “Were you aware that Mr. Wells Armstrong was gay?”

  She sighed. “Yes. I was aware of that. That was why he needed an escort. He had a wife
, but she was tired of pretending, so he needed girls to show up with him at these functions. This may be the 21st Century, but people still talk.”

  So she was lying to me before when she told me that Shelly and Wells hit it off romantically. I wondered what else she had been lying about previously.

  “So, it’s safe to say that Shelly and Wells had a relationship that was not based upon sex?”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “What was their relationship based upon, then? To your understanding, what was Shelly and Wells’ relationship based upon?”

  Irina’s back got a bit straighter. “It was my understanding that Shelly’s relationship with Wells was one of convenience. And information.”

  “Yes,” I said. “Information. Wells was on the stand earlier, and he, too, intimated that Shelly had information for him. And that he, in return, paid her handsomely. But what information was she trading with him?”

  “How am I to know the answer to that question?”

  “Because she told you. She must have told you. Is it your testimony that Shelly was very specific about who she wanted to meet, and that you didn’t ask her any questions about exactly why it was that she had such specific tastes in men? You didn’t ask her why it was that she didn’t want to meet bankers or tech CEOs or oil company execs or anybody like that? You weren’t curious as to why she only was interested in men working in the pharmaceutical industry?”

  She shook her head. “Daddy issues. She was working through daddy issues.”

  “Daddy issues,” I said. “And what does that mean to you?”

  “She was having issues with her father. She and her father were estranged. She was working through that.”

  “In what way was she working through that?”

  “By finding men who were like her father. Getting to know them. That’s all.”

  I shook my head. “No, that’s not all. You just said that Shelly and Wells had a relationship based upon information given and money received. That would imply that there wasn’t a psychological void that was being fulfilled, but, rather, there was something else that was bonding the two people together. And I think that you know what that thing is.”

  Nick stood up. “Objection. Defense counsel is badgering his own witness.”

  “Sustained. Counselor, please either request to treat this witness as hostile, or stay within the boundaries of direct questioning.”

  I nodded my head. “Permission to treat this witness as hostile,” I said.

  “Permission is granted,” Judge Clarion said. “You may proceed.”

  “Now,” I said to Irina. “Isn’t it true that you knew that Shelly was not signing up with your escort service because she wanted to meet men for a sexual relationship?”

  “No, that’s not true. I didn’t know that about her.”

  “Oh, but you did. You did. You knew that Shelly was looking for men because she specifically wanted to provide information for them about her father and his business. Isn’t that right?”

  “No. That’s not right.”

  It was all coming together. I now knew just where I wanted to go with this case. I suddenly knew that I was going to have to go with a different theory of the case than the one in which I started.

  “I have nothing further for this witness,” I said. I was suddenly anxious to get to my next witness, because I knew that my next witness was going to be the key to the case.

  I was about to call Andrew McMason. And I was going to break that bastard down.

  Chapter 27

  I called Andrew McMason, and, when I got a look at him, I felt enraged. With his slicked-back hair, perfectly-tailored suit and smug look on his face, he reminded me of that rat-bastard John Gibson. While I didn’t blame John Gibson for the break-down of my marriage – that was 100% on Sarah – I still associated Gibson with that painful part of my life. Gibson was a bastard, and this guy looked like a bastard, too.

  Of course he was a bastard. He was the one who was so prejudiced against Yasin Ahmadi that he cut his own daughter off for dating the guy. By all accounts, Yasin was a decent guy. He seemed that way on the stand, too. I still lightly suspected Yasin of being involved in Shelly’s death, but the evidence, so far, was pointing away from him.

  The witnesses who spoke to Garrett all told Garrett that Yasin was an amazing person. Yet this rat-bastard only saw the fact that Yasin was brown and Muslim. That was apparently enough for him to cut off Shelly.

  I took a deep breath as I approached Andrew. I always had to shake off my personal feelings in these cases. I needed to calmly and methodically take this guy apart. Bit by bit, piece by piece, he was going to end up mine.

  He was sworn in and he calmly stated his name.

  And the questioning began.

  “Mr. McMason, I called you here to testify in this case. Are you aware of why I called you?”

  “Because I’m Shelly’s father. I was Shelly’s father, that is.”

  “You were Shelly’s father.” I nodded my head. “Were. Shelly’s father. You know longer consider yourself to be her father, then?”

  “Of course not,” he said, in clipped tones. “She’s deceased. Therefore, I’m no longer her father.”

  I nodded my head. “See, most parents who have lost a child would still consider themselves to be that child’s mother or father, so your answer doesn’t ring true to me.”

  “Objection,” Nick said. “Counsel is editorializing and I didn’t hear a question.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Clarion said, glaring at me. “You know better than that. Please limit your inquiries to questions and not statements.”

  “Withdrawn,” I said. “And, Mr. McMason, when your daughter was alive, did you consider her to be your daughter? And did you consider yourself to be her father?”

  “Of course,” he said, his voice still clipped and short. “She was my daughter and I was her father. Of course.”

  “Oh? You mean, you didn’t cut her off financially and emotionally because she was dating a Muslim man?”

  He blinked his eyes, and his look unnerved me. He had light eyes, like Erik, but they were dead. There was nothing behind them. No warmth, no mirth, certainly no love. Just.dead. “No,” he said. “I didn’t.”

  I turned to the judge. “Permission to treat witness as hostile,” I said.

  “Sustained.” Judge Clarion nodded his head. “Go ahead, counselor.”

  “I’ll remind you that you are under oath, and I’ll remind you that I have Yasin Ahmadi ready to go as a witness,” I said to Andrew. I was prepared to re-call Yasin to the stand as a rebuttal witness if I had to. “So, you’re saying that it’s not true that you stopped speaking to your daughter two years ago, because she was dating Yasin Ahmadi, and that you cut her off financially around that same time?”

  “No, that’s not true.”

  I went over to my files. “I would like to show you what I’ve marked as Exhibit C,” I said. “This is a copy of Shelly’s Free Application for Federal Student Aid, commonly called FAFSA. It shows that Shelly McMason applied for financial aid starting in her junior year in college, and she stated on this form that the reason why she required financial aid was because her parents cut her off financially. Do you see this form? Do you see that Shelly signed it?”

  Andrew examined the form. He had to have known that he was caught in a lie, although his face didn’t show as much. “Yes,” he said. “That is my daughter’s signature. But I didn’t cut her off. She told me that she didn’t want financial assistance from me anymore. She told me that she wanted to pay for her own college. My daughter was an independent sort.”

  “Oh,” I said, pacing. “So, you’re saying that your daughter wanted to go into debt to the government, as opposed to asking her billionaire father to finance her education. Is that what you are expecting the jury to believe?”

  “Yes. That is how it happened.”

  “Mr. McMason, did you approve of your daughter dating Yasin Ahmadi?”


  “No. I did not.”

  “And why didn’t you approve of your daughter dating Yasin Ahmadi?”

  ‘“Because I raised Shelly as a Christian, and I expected that my grandchildren would also be Christians.”

  “You mean that you expected that your grandchildren were going to be white, don’t you?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to keep one’s bloodlines pure.”

  “And marrying a brown man, such as Yasin Ahmadi, would not only mean that your future grandchildren would be non-white, but they would also probably be raised Muslim. That wasn’t acceptable, was it, Mr. McMason?”

  “Again, I do not see anything wrong with that. I do not see anything wrong with wanting my grandchildren to be Christian.”

  “Christian and white,” I said. “Don’t forget that last part. It was very important to you that your grandchildren would be Christian and white.”

  “Yes.” He nodded his head. “There is nothing wrong with wanting that.”

  “Oh, but you didn’t just want that. You demanded that, didn’t you? You demanded that from your daughter, and when she refused, you cut her off financially and emotionally. Isn’t that what happened?”

  He sat up straighter in his chair, and apparently decided just to go ahead and really own his bigotry. “If your child does not accede to your wishes, then it is time to use every effort to force her to accede. So, yes, I told her that she was to receive no more money from me, as long as she persisted in her desires to marry Mr. Ahmadi. I have nothing against Mr. Ahmadi personally, you understand. I just did not want him in my family bloodline. That is all. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  “Oh, I see. So, you were lying earlier when you told the court that you didn’t cut Shelly off financially. Is that right?”

  “No, I wasn’t lying. I will admit, Shelly and I had words. But it was her choice to walk away from my largesse.”

  “You mean that you told her that she had to break up with Yasin, or else you would cut her off, and she refused to break up with Yasin, so that meant, in your eyes, that she voluntarily walked away from your finances. Isn’t that what you mean?”