Beauty vs. the Beast

by M. J. Rodgers

  “I protest, Your Honor,” Croghan immediately countered. “Trials are meant to be free and open to all the citizens—”

  This time it was Kay who pounded her hand on her table, much to the surprise of Croghan, the judge and Damian—who joined the other men in openly staring at her.

  In that resulting shocked silence, her soft voice carried very well. “Your Honor, I will not allow the plaintiff’s lawyer to turn this courtroom into a three-ring circus for live-action news. Dr. Steele’s spotless reputation and professional standing will be protected. Because if they are not, I promise that when we win this case—and we will win it—we will be filing a lawsuit against Rodney Croghan, his client and any and all other parties who would dare sanction such slander.”

  Kay had made it clear that she meant Judge Frederick I. Ingle III as one of those other parties. Damian was amazed at the real threat that gentle voice could portray. And, he was even more amazed when he watched her smile sweetly at the judge after making her threat. The lady behind those bright blueberry eyes was just full of unexpected dimensions. He had yet to find one that disappointed him.

  Judge Ingle didn’t seem all that disappointed, either. He looked at Kay as if with new appreciation for her fighting spirit. Then he raised his gavel, once again.

  “No filming inside the courtroom,” he said simply. He followed his proclamation with a short rap.

  “But, Your Honor—”

  “Come now, Mr. Croghan,” Ingle interrupted. “With the kind of sensationalism this case will engender, you won’t be able to keep the news hounds at bay. Now, you two, listen up, because we play by the Marquis of Ingle’s rules in this court. I want a good fight, a clean fight. You’ll get no interference from the bench for surprise punches, but keep them in the legal zones. Nine o’clock Monday morning we’ll begin to impanel the jury. By ten o’clock Tuesday morning, I expect each of you to be ready to come out from your corners swinging your introductory remarks. May the best lawyer win. Court’s adjourned.”

  * * *

  “DAMN INGLE and his sudden need for literary acclaim,” Kay lamented. “His allowing the case to be heard was always a possibility, but his accepting Croghan’s feeble argument to extend the statute of limitations for filing was ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous. He’s just looking for colorful grist for the milling of his next novel. This case should never be going to trial.”

  Kay threw the words over her shoulder as she charged down the King County Courthouse stairwell, doing her best to physically work off her anger. They had seven more flights to go and she knew she was going to need every one.

  She heard Damian’s reply from behind her as he kept pace with her downward plunge. “At least you got the media barred.”

  “From filming in the courtroom only. They still can have reporters flooding the spectator area. And you can bet Croghan is going to make sure they do. This is just the kind of unusual case they love to sensationalize. In addition to everything else, we’re going to have to be prepared for the press.”

  “Are you really not ready to start Monday?”

  “It’s certainly not when I would have chosen to begin. But we’ll manage. What will be critical is lining up defense witnesses in time.”

  “How can I help?”

  “You could start by contacting those two psychologists you told me about earlier this week, the ones you consulted with on Lee’s case. See if both will be available to appear in court next week.”

  “What day?”

  “Soonest would be Thursday. As you heard, Monday will be taken up with jury selection. Tuesday and Wednesday will most likely be the days when Croghan will be presenting the plaintiff’s case. He gave me a long list of potential witnesses, one hundred in all.”

  “A hundred witnesses? You must be kidding.”

  “No, but he is. It’s a ploy to try to overwhelm us, to use up all our energy tracking down these people to find out what they could possibly have to say. He probably won’t be calling more than a handful. Still, we have a full weekend ahead preparing even for that handful.”

  “How can we know which ones will be included in that group?”

  “We can’t know for certain. That’s why he made the list so long. Try to see if the two psychologists can keep Thursday and Friday open.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Croghan has a psychologist on his witness list, a Dr. Upton Van Pratt. I doubt he’s a red herring. Recognize the name?”

  “Upton Van Pratt is a past president of the American Psychological Association.”

  “Damn. That alone will give him clout in the jury’s eyes. What else do you know about him?”

  “If memory serves, I believe he’s retired now. I’m surprised he’s willing to testify in a case like this considering his standing. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “That’ll be helpful. I’ll also need a list of any books or articles he might have written.”

  Kay checked her watch as she continued her trajectory down the last flight of stairs. “I have to talk to Lee Nye right away. This afternoon, if possible. Tomorrow, at the latest. Can you set it up for me?”

  “Today is probably impossible. I’ll see what I can do for tomorrow. Your office?”

  “Yes. The psychologists are important, but at the moment, Lee is our key defense witness. You’re sure he’s willing to testify on your behalf?”

  “Last time I spoke to him. I can’t imagine anything that would have changed his mind.”

  “How does he come across?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, do you think a jury will consider him a credible witness?”

  “That’s hard to say.”

  Kay came to an abrupt stop on the stairs and whirled. She hadn’t realized how closely Damian had been following her until they collided. He grabbed her shoulders to steady them both.

  Kay felt the warm strength of his hands. She smelled the exciting clean scent of his after-shave. He felt good and he smelled good, and she knew the sudden breathlessness in her body had absolutely nothing to do with her rapid descent on the stairs.

  They were so close, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her forehead. He was looking down at her, his thick, rich, dark brown hair haloed by the subdued overhead lights, the strong planes of his face shadowed, his eyes mere glints of green.

  The blood began to beat far too loudly against her eardrums, silencing her fading thoughts. She drifted closer to him as though drawn by the insistent pull of some invisible magnet, her senses swimming with the drawing heat and scent of him.

  Then, suddenly, the door to the upper floor was pushed open and voices rushed into the stairwell as the echo of several pairs of feet clattered above them, climbing to the next floor.

  Kay started at the noise. The rational part of her mind came to as though it had been in a trance. She was surprised and shocked to find herself so close to her client.

  She immediately leaned back, slipped her shoulders from beneath his hands and descended the next step. He did nothing to stop her retreat. Nor did he advance. He just stood there watching her with those glinting eyes.

  Kay looked away and tried to collect her jumbled thoughts. Damn, what had they been discussing? She had to think. Ingle was making the case go to trial. She had to have everything ready by Monday. The press. The psychologists. Lee. Yes, that was it. Lee.

  She looked back at the man waiting on the stair above her and schooled her voice into its most professional aplomb.

  “You’re being deliberately evasive about Lee. Why?”

  He leaned his elbow against the stairwell banister and smiled down at her, displaying all the relaxed composure she was currently missing within herself.

  “You’re right, Kay. Possibly, I should have told you this sooner, but I’d hoped for the suit to be dismissed this morning and, in that event, I believed telling you wouldn’t be necessary.”

  As always, Kay did her best not to succumb to the infectiousness of h
is smile and to concentrate instead on the import of his words.

  “What have you kept from me?”

  “Lee Nye is a bit...unusual.”

  “Unusual? How do you mean, unusual?”

  “I don’t want to prejudice your thinking. I’d rather you met him and made up your own mind.”

  Kay turned to descend the final few stairs. A bit... unusual. She didn’t like the sound of it. She didn’t like the sound of it at all.

  * * *

  THE ATTIC BEGAN to lighten a bit. Lee Nye, the little boy who had been sleeping for such a long time, opened his eyes and realized that something was nudging him awake. He didn’t quite know what it was, but the gentle mental poke was unmistakable. He yawned and stretched and got out of his nice warm bed to pad over to the narrow attic window. He perched his chin on the sill to see what was going on.

  The objects were even clearer than last time. The colors even more vibrant. He’d never felt so...close to the world below before.

  When he’d first looked out his attic window, it had been so fuzzy. The objects and people moved as though they were simply dark shadows against a gray sheet. But not today. Today things were so clear, so real.

  He stepped back from the window. Sometimes, the realness disturbed him. He wasn’t certain he wanted to look.

  He remembered a long time ago he had looked out his attic window and a little boy with a sad face had looked up at him as though he were asking him to come out to play. He didn’t think anyone down there could see him until that little boy had looked directly up at him.

  That, too, had been too real.

  He hadn’t gone down to play, of course. He didn’t know the little boy. And why would he have wanted to leave his attic, anyway?

  He moved toward the window again, pressed his nose against the pane. Once again, the world below flashed clear and close.

  It seemed so chaotic down there. At least the people were. Irrational. Loud. Even violent. Some things were interesting, though. Some things he liked to watch.

  But nothing that was going on today.

  The little boy stepped back from the window again. He walked over to his desk and took out a pencil and paper from the drawer. He sat down and began to write down all the fascinating numbers that had started to pop into his head.

  He liked numbers. He added them and subtracted them and multiplied them and squared them and strung them into equations. The more complex the equations became, the more they appealed to the little boy.

  Yes, he liked playing with his numbers up in his cozy attic. No matter what happened down there in the outside world, he could always do just exactly what he wished up here in his attic.

  Maybe when he was older and bigger and playing with the numbers no longer amused him so much, he might go down and see what was really going on in that world out there and find those interesting things that sometimes flashed by.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Four

  “Lee Nye, this is my attorney, Ms. Kellogg.”

  Lee stood before Kay—a medium-size man with medium brown hair and medium brown eyes. He wore a carefully cut light brown suit, a shade darker tie, neat hair and the blandest look on the blandest face Kay had ever seen. There was absolutely, positively, nothing remarkable about him, Kay thought. He was the kind of man you passed on the street every day and never noticed.

  Kay felt immediate relief. After Damian’s cryptic statement yesterday about his multiple personality patient being unusual, her imagination had been toying with the possibility of coming face-to-face with a multiheaded Hydra.

  She smiled and held out her hand.

  Lee’s return smile was anemic, his shake barely perceptible. Kay reclaimed her hand. She gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  Lee moved to the offered chair and sat down with what looked like mechanical obedience.

  Kay felt a slight twinge of unease. She circled her desk and sat down as Damian quietly moved the chair next to Lee closer to the far wall. He purposely sat away from them. Kay suspected that he wanted to make himself unobtrusive, so Lee would give her his full attention.

  “I very much appreciate your making time for me on a Saturday,” Kay said, once again smiling at the man, trying to break through the bland barrier that seemed to surround him.

  His return smile was even less noticeable this time. “It’s just another workday for me—and a busy one—but Dr. Steele assured me you wouldn’t be too demanding. He knows my time is valuable,” Lee said.

  Lee looked at his wristwatch as though to emphasize the latter, although there had been no hint of impatience in his voice. As a matter of fact, nothing about his body language gave the impression that he was in a hurry.

  Kay was definitely confused by the signals she was receiving. She decided for the moment to just put them aside. “Let’s get right to it then, Mr. Nye. Do you mind if I turn on this audiotape and use it as my recorder? I find it so much less distracting than taking notes.”

  “I don’t mind.” He had answered without hesitation. His cooperation seemed complete, his attention politely focused.

  Kay pressed the button, waited for the tape to move past the leader, and then began.

  “Mr. Nye, I assume you are aware that Mrs. Fedora Nye has brought a wrongful-death suit against Dr. Steele?”

  “Dr. Steele explained this to me.”

  “Did he also explain that we would like you to testify on his behalf Thursday or Friday of next week?”

  “Yes. That will not be a problem.”

  “That’s good to hear. We both appreciate your cooperation. Now, just a few personal questions, if you don’t mind?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “I lease an apartment at 1401 Boren Avenue in Seattle.”

  “How long have you lived there?”

  “About two years.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have a significant other in your life?”

  “Significant other? You mean a romantic interest?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. I have no time for that.”

  Nor inclination, it appeared from the quick assurance of his response. “I’d like to talk to you about some things that might come up in your testimony next week.”

  “Fine.”

  “I understand you first came to Dr. Steele five and a half years ago, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you still his patient?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “He cured me of my problem. I have no reason to see him anymore.”

  “You said he cured you of your problem. What was your problem?”

  “I had recurring blackouts. Dr. Steele stopped them.”

  “Do you understand how he did this?”

  “Yes. He found someone else living inside me. He got rid of him.” No inflection disrupted the man’s matter-of-fact tone.

  “What do you know about this other personality?”

  “Only what I learned on the videotapes Dr. Steele showed me.”

  “And what did you learn from those videotapes?”

  “The personality called himself Roy. He was totally unlike me, yet he was in possession of my face and body. It was most unsettling.”

  Except Kay could clearly tell Lee didn’t look or sound unsettled at all. He could just as easily have been reading the ingredients off a cereal box as admitting to seeing a videotape of another personality inhabiting his body. Kay shifted uneasily in her chair.

  “What were the effects of these blackouts on your life?”

  “The blackouts interfered with my work. I never knew when they would occur.”

  “Can you give me a specific example of such an incident?”

  “I was in the middle of putting samples into a package to mail to a client. The next thing I knew, I opened my eyes to f
ind a large alley rat biting my fingers. I looked at my watch and discovered that nearly twelve hours had passed. It was the middle of the night. I was dirty and smelling of alcohol, lying in a stinking alley on the other side of town, with absolutely no memory of how I got there.”

  As horrible as this experience must have been, Lee’s physical and verbal calm remained unchallenged throughout its recitation.

  Kay decided to suggest a little emotion to see what would happen. “That must have been frightening.”

  Lee maintained his bland composure. “It was most... disruptive.”

  “Were the other incidents similar?”

  “Some were. Some weren’t.”

  “Can you describe some of the others?”

  “Roy would get into drunken fights in bars. He would pass out. I would then wake up on the barroom floor a moment later with the consequences.”

  “You mean you would wake up drunk?”

  “Drunk? Of course not. I never drink.”

  Kay shook her head at this incongruity and put it aside to deal with later. “Then what were these consequences you spoke of, Mr. Nye?”

  “My eyes would open to see angry, drunken people beating me. I had a broken nose and several groin injuries once and, another time, a broken wrist that required a cast for six weeks. Several times, I had to go to work with one or two black eyes.”

  “That must have been dreadful, not to mention very painful.”

  “It was most unpleasant.”

  Just unpleasant? Was this man a master of understatement, or what? “How did you explain these injuries to your employer?”

  “I couldn’t explain how I had awakened to find myself in a bar. I couldn’t explain why these people were angry at me. Since I didn’t know about Roy, I had no explanations whatsoever. It was my employer who finally urged me to seek treatment.”

  “Your employer sounds very caring.”

  “He knew I was a good worker. He didn’t want to lose me. He sent me to a company doctor.”

  “So you first went to a medical doctor?”

  “Yes. His tests ruled out brain tumors and other such possibilities. He gave me Dr. Steele’s telephone number and urged me to call.”

  “How did you feel about being referred to a psychologist?”