‘That neither he – nor Appleton – had expected you to defend the action,’ replied Beckwith, smiling. ‘I played it for him to come to me. Which he did. He seemed surprised that you were here in New York, that I wasn’t representing you in absentia.’
So surveillance still hadn’t been re-established, Jordan immediately deduced. ‘Is that good or bad?’
‘Good, for us. Opens the door for me to challenge everything that’s claimed against you as well as against Alyce, if my dismissal is rejected and the main hearing proceeds with Leanne Jefferies additionally brought into the action. We don’t actually have an outright defence: you’ve both admitted the adultery. But it strengthens the point – provides the strong mitigation – that Bob hit on in Raleigh, that as far as you were both concerned Alyce’s marriage to Appleton was over.’
Jordan hesitated, his mind on what he’d illegally read in Patrick O’Neill’s report of the Watchdog agency’s failure to find any evidence of Alyce having lovers in Manhattan or Long Island. ‘You know who Appleton’s enquiry agency is?’
‘Still waiting to be told,’ said Reid.
Jordan held out a calming hand towards the North Carolina lawyer. ‘We’re not in competition, remember? But whoever they are they must have been watching Alyce here, in America. And found nothing. Which they would have done, if there was anything to find, judging from the completeness of their observations in France. That’s surely in Alyce’s favour: part of the mitigation even?’
‘I’m not sure it goes as far as the mitigation, but it’s a point I thought we’d already touched on,’ said Reid. ‘Nothing’s going to go unchallenged but there’s a danger in the very word you used – completeness – in what they achieved in France. It’ll be a narrow path to walk. But I’m obviously going to walk it …’ The man paused, looking at the other lawyer. ‘I’m not sure whether it does more harm than good to your case.’
‘Neither am I,’ agreed Beckwith, philosophically. ‘But the rules are the rules. Your primary responsibility is to your client, my primary responsibility is to mine. We both do what we have to do.’
That hadn’t ended up as he’d intended, acknowledged Jordan. There was still more than enough time to improve upon it. He was encouraged at Appleton’s lawyer being wrong-footed by him personally contesting the claims, if indeed Bartle had been wrong-footed; he only had Beckwith’s impressions from one end of a telephone conversation.
The two lawyers had continued talking during Jordan’s reflections, but to all practical purposes they were technically establishing between themselves – although always consulting Alyce and Jordan on their availability – the precedence of prehearing submissions and unfulfilled exchange demands to Bartle to be made individually between the two of them. Twice, when they weren’t part of any discussion, Alyce smiled at Jordan, on the first occasion mouthing ‘thank you’, which Jordan didn’t understand.
It had gone six before they finally broke off, Jordan holding back for Alyce and Reid to leave the building separately and ahead of him. Still in the annex, Beckwith said, ‘I thought everything went very well.’
‘I want everything to go better than very well,’ said Jordan. ‘I want everything to go completely in our favour.’
‘He’s an arrogant son of a bitch,’ accused Reid. ‘Suddenly he’s a trial lawyer!’
‘I told you he was arrogant before you met,’ reminded Beckwith. ‘The points he made were valid, though.’
They were eating in a restaurant in Little Italy, a cavern filled with noise making it difficult for them to hear each other and impossible to be overheard by others.
‘We’d have got it covered,’ insisted Reid.
‘He covered it first,’ said Beckwith. ‘I prefer clients who think for themselves instead of expecting me to do everything for them.’
‘You really think Bartle was surprised at your third-party involvement?’
‘I even thought at one stage he was going to suggest a pretrial consultation between us.’
‘To slim down the claims to an agreed settlement?’ guessed Reid.
‘There’s an argument for doing so. As you said at the meeting, the adultery is admitted.’
‘Do you think Jordan would go for it?’
‘He’s made the point a few times that gamblers don’t gamble. If he got the possibility of millions pared down to a few thousand – but with the guilt legally established – it might appeal to him.’ He gestured towards the other lawyer. ‘You just dropped spaghetti sauce down your tie.’
Reid scrubbed at himself with his napkin. His head still bent he said, ‘That would kind of divide us, wouldn’t it?’
‘And be a clever legal move for Bartle to make.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Nothing. Wait for him to come to me. Like I told you, it’s only my guess.’
‘When are you going to file your dismissal submission?’
‘Tomorrow. Everything’s ready.’
‘So we could get a submission date set as early as next week?’
‘Not if Bartle hasn’t complied with all the exchanges. And we’re still waiting on Leanne Jefferies. I really can’t see why he’s holding back on Appleton’s medical stuff.’
‘Unless it proves Appleton was or is infected.’
‘If it does, Appleton’s case is holed below the waterline,’ insisted Beckwith. ‘It can’t be that simple.’
‘Then why?’ demanded Reid.
‘I don’t know,’ admitted Beckwith. ‘When I file for dismissal I’m going to make the point that if I lose the submission I can’t proceed to full hearing until I’ve received everything that’s legally got to be exchanged.’
‘Did you tell Bartle that?’
‘It was when I told him exactly that I thought he was going to offer negotiation.’
‘Maybe you’ve put a fox into the hen coop?’
‘Rather me doing it to him than the reverse, his doing it to us.’
‘You going to mention it to Harvey?’
‘Not unless I get the approach from Bartle. There’s no point until I do.’
‘I’d like to hear, the moment you do. It could affect everything as far as I am concerned.’
‘Of course you’ll know. If it happens …’ Beckwith pointed across the table. ‘You’ve dropped some more sauce.’
Jordan recognized Alyce’s voice the moment he picked up the telephone in his Carlyle suite. ‘Hello,’ he said, in reply to her opening, pleased the curiosity didn’t sound in his voice.
‘I want to say thank you again, for what you did today, said today. A lot of things wouldn’t have been brought out if you hadn’t been there.’
‘Change your lawyer if you’re not happy,’ offered Jordan.
‘He’s the best there is in Raleigh.’
‘Which doesn’t say much for Raleigh.’
‘From being with you in France I wouldn’t have thought you were this ruthless.’
‘This isn’t France and we’re not having an adventure. This is reality with blood on the floor.’
‘I wish it wasn’t,’ Alyce countered.
‘You and me both. How did you know I was here, at the Carlyle?’
‘Bob told me. He showed me your statement, too. Why did you tell me you were an investment banker when you’re not?’
‘I thought it sounded better: more respectable.’
‘We weren’t being respectable.’
Jordan hesitated, considering his reply. ‘And now look where we are.’
‘If you don’t get dismissed from the case I want to take full responsibility in court.’
‘You discussed that with Bob?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t you think you should? It might screw up the way he’s going to argue your case.’
‘I did use you, to get my own back on Alfred.’
‘And told me as much in France. You didn’t know all this was going to happen.’ He’d have to tell Beckwith what she was saying: offering.
It might do more to harm than help his defence, although he couldn’t think how.
‘We’ll see. You going to make the trip back to England?’
‘I think so. You going to stay on here in Manhattan?’
‘I think so. When will you be back?’
‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t need more than a day in London. I can fly back here on the last flight the second night.’
‘I want it all to be over soon.’
‘You said.’
‘You don’t mind my calling?’
‘Of course I don’t.’
‘I’m sorry you got caught up in everything like this,’ Alyce apologized.
‘You said that, too. More than once.’
‘Take care.’
‘And you. Try to think more about the three years immediately after your husband left Harvard.’
There was a pause from Alyce’s end of the line before she said, ‘You have this number?’
‘No.’
‘You have a pen?’
‘Yes.’
She dictated it and added, ‘Call me when you get back?’
‘I will,’ promised Jordan. He knew from accessing the computers of Appleton and his enquiry agency that they weren’t under surveillance any more, so they didn’t have to bother about their lawyers’ warnings about being together.
Seventeen
Harvey Jordan extended his intended absence from New York by twelve hours, getting back into Manhattan by the middle of the third day. There were three messages waiting for him at his Carlyle suite, which he’d maintained to provide just such a contact point. One was from Daniel Beckwith. The other two were from Alyce. Before responding to any of them Jordan checked his intrusion traps, which were undisturbed, and after that settled before his laptop at the bureau and steadily worked his way through his illegal Trojan Horses, none of which he’d accessed from London, adhering strictly to the unbreakable operational rule never to cast his phishing nets from more than one dedicated computer. He was particularly careful going into the system of Appleton and Drake, alert for any indication that his entry had been picked up on, which there wasn’t. Still preying on the currency trades, he spread almost $22,000 between his five accounts.
From Beckwith’s system Jordan was easily able to infer contact from legal representation of both Alfred Appleton and Leanne Jefferies through the exchanges between his lawyer and Alyce’s, even though they were disjointed and incomplete because the two attorneys were obviously communicating, irritatingly, sometimes by email and on other occasions by telephone. Jordan’s further, even more irritating discovery was that Leanne Jefferies was being represented by Brinkmeyer, Hartley and Bernstein, the same firm engaged by Appleton but by a different partner. Leanne’s lawyer was Peter Wolfson, whose name was listed directly below that of Appleton’s attorney, David Bartle, on the company letterhead. Jordan ignored the immediate disappointment, quickly switching to his Trojan Horse stabled in the Brinkmeyer system in his search for electronic correspondence between Wolfson and Bartle. As he’d feard, there wasn’t any.
Jordan finally allowed the frustration to burst over him, physically hot. If Bartle and Wolfson were going to discuss everything between themselves within their own Madison Avenue building, which was clearly and most naturally what they would do, apart from occasional, but so far uninitiated, email contact with either Beckwith or Reid, there was no possibility of him eavesdropping on their thoughts or strategies. Objectively acknowledging his over-expectation, Jordan had still imagined he could sit upon the highest pinnacle overlooking everyone’s manoeuvrings and scrabblings, always to be ahead of every opposing move. What he had – precisely with all his computer entries – was the best spot in the foothills. Still sufficient. Still enough. But only just: not, by any assessment, as complete as he wanted his monitoring to be. But then he hadn’t yet accessed every site open to him. Still hopeful, Jordan followed his well-marked trail into every other hidden observation point in every other invaded computer. But found no further revelations, finally slumping back in the over-padded chair.
He’d hoped for so much more, some closely guarded confidence – confessions or admissions even – between the lawyers and their clients that he could have turned to his advantage. He at least knew things were moving forwards. For the moment, but not much more than a moment, he had to be satisfied.
Jordan was connected at once to Daniel Beckwith, who said, ‘Welcome back! I hear there’s more money in the pot?’
More for my benefit than yours, thought Jordan. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the quickness with which Lesley Corbin had alerted Beckwith to his visit to Chancery Lane to deposit a further fifty thousand dollars – she was the essential conduit, after all – but he was. ‘I thought it was a good idea. What’s happened here while I was away?’
‘We’ve got our pre-trial submission hearing next Wednesday,’ said the American. ‘We need to meet before then, obviously. And travel down on the Tuesday …’ There was a pause. ‘You want Suzie to make your hotel reservation along with mine? Or do you want to do it yourself? The hotel choice isn’t great.’
Beckwith had been curbed, Jordan recognized. ‘We’ll need to be together in the same hotel. I’d be grateful for Suzie doing it at the same time as she books yours. What other developments have there been?’
‘Leanne is being represented by the same people who are looking after Appleton, although obviously not by the same attorney. She’s contesting Bob’s claim of criminal conversation.’
Why hadn’t he found that on Reid’s computer? wondered Jordan. An official, legal and lengthily argued rebuttal on original court-submitting papers, he guessed; he still thought there would have been some email reference he could have picked up upon. Jordan was discomfited at the possibility of more windows being shut against him. ‘How’s that affect us?’
‘It doesn’t, directly. Her lawyer is a guy named Wolfson, Pete Wolfson. Bob hasn’t yet got their official response, just a phone call telling him they’re opposing it.’
‘What about medical records?’
‘Promised by the week’s end. I’ve already filed for a court order, demanding production in case it doesn’t arrive by then. Even if it does it’ll form part of the record for Pullinger to realize their reluctance.’
‘There doesn’t seem to be any point in our meeting until Friday at the earliest then?’ suggested Jordan.
‘The medical stuff doesn’t directly impact upon our application,’ Beckwith pointed out. ‘We’re not reliant upon it, one way or the other, at this stage.’
‘I want to be as up to date as possible,’ insisted Jordan.
‘You will be,’ assured Beckwith.
He was appearing too anxious again, accepted Jordan. ‘What about media interest?’
‘Increasing,’ replied Beckwith. ‘I got a call from the London Times the day before yesterday. Bob’s hoping to get his closed court hearing next week too, depending upon the length of ours, which technically has to precede what Bob does. I don’t see why we should need more than one day, although Pullinger could reserve judgement. Which shouldn’t stand in Bob’s way, even if Pullinger refuses my submission.’
‘Did The Times have my name?’ demanded Jordan, alarmed.
‘That’s all that’s listed, nothing else that could identify you,’ said Beckwith. ‘I refused to talk about anything: answer any questions.’
‘They must know I’m English to have called in the first place.’
‘Your being English wasn’t the direction of their approach. It was all about the break-up of two of the oldest American colonial families.’
‘They could get the lead from Appleton’s side,’ said Jordan, more to himself than to the other man. He should have warned the London concierge, John Blake. He still could, although not today. It was 8.30 p.m. in England. Blake would have left the building by now. It had to be his first telephone call tomorrow.
‘I warned Bartle about contempt,’ reminded Beckwith.<
br />
‘They wouldn’t be risking that, guiding people to me. And I can’t imagine the threat of it restraining British newspapers for a moment.’
‘I can’t do any more than I’ve already done to prevent your identity coming out,’ said the lawyer, the impatience obvious.
Too anxious again, accepted Jordan. ‘Let’s wait until Friday to meet.’
‘You going to be at the Carlyle all the time until then?’
‘All the time,’ promised Jordan.
‘I’ll call you if anything comes up in between. Let’s say eleven on Friday. I’ll have Suzie make plane reservations to Raleigh as well. This time next week we should know where we are.’
‘That’s what I want to know,’ said Jordan. ‘Exactly where we are.’ The light on his telephone console began to flicker, indicating a waiting call.
‘You’re back!’
‘Just walked through the door.’ Jordan instantly knew the voice. ‘I was just going to return your calls.’
‘How was London?’ asked Alyce.
‘I got done what I went there to do.’ Jordan hadn’t expected it to take most of one day to extend the Hans Crescent lease, sort out the query letters held for him at Royston and Jones bank and – a spur of the moment decision, despite what he was now accumulating in the accounts in New York – to withdraw additional funds to deposit with Lesley Corbin, all of which had delayed his return by those twelve hours.
‘You spoken to Dan yet?’
‘A minute or two ago.’ This could so easily have been a casual, how-was-your-trip conversation.
‘So you know Leanne entering a defence?’
He had to ignore the lawyers’ warnings against contact with Alyce, Jordan decided: without being able to intercept any computer correspondence between her and her lawyer she was his only access to her side of the case. Testingly he said, ‘Only that. Dan didn’t go into any detail.’
‘We’re matching every claim Alfred is making against you,’ responded Alyce, without hesitation. ‘And intend inviting the jury to award punitive damages against Leanne Jefferies, as well. Bob sent our detailed claim to her lawyer yesterday; he’s from the same firm representing Alfred, incidentally. Bob thinks that’s a bad move on their part. Could be interpreted that Alfred and Leanne are still involved.’
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