Girl, Under Oath (Michael Gresham Series)

by John Ellsworth

  Elise frowned. “This is the life insurance? What about the vase?”

  “The check is for two million. One for the life insurance and one for the vase. It’s all there.”

  Elise didn’t believe her and remembered the psychosis stuff from Jennifer’s file. But she decided to play along and see if the two-million dollars really came through.

  Elise picked up the check, studied it, and replaced it on the table. She then opened the folded document and began reading down through its two pages. Once that was done, she reached inside her purse and pulled out a pen. She signed her name at the bottom of the first page and the bottom of the second page. She also dated the second page and refolded it, and handed it back to Jennifer.

  Jennifer opened the document and scanned it, noted the signatures and date, making sure all was well. She then nodded at the check on the table. "Pick it up, please. The money now belongs to you."

  Elise reached down, picked up the check, folded it once, and placed it inside her purse. Tears had come into her eyes, and she put out her hand to shake hands with Jennifer. The women shook hands, and Jennifer smiled. "Say, let's have one more drink, and then we’ll take you outside and call you a taxi. I don't see how another can hurt."

  Elise brightened up. "I usually only have one, but this is special tonight. Just let me go to the bathroom first. She stood, picked up her bag, and headed for the bathrooms.

  Jennifer watched Elise walk off. When she was sure she was out of sight, she dug into her purse, removing a small vial. She poured the contents of the vial into Elise’s last inch of drink. She then dropped the vial back into her bag and sat up. After a second thought, she went back into her bag and pulled out her makeup mirror and checked her makeup. She refreshed her lipstick and blotted her lips on tissue from her purse. She then sat back, satisfied.

  Elise suddenly returned from the bathroom. “Guess what? I threw up in the bathroom. I think I've had enough to drink. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go outside, catch a cab, and run along home now. Please forgive my sudden departure. I'm feeling dizzy from the drink I've had. I never drink except an occasional wine, and I know better than to have a martini."

  Jennifer frowned. "I was expecting we would have one more drink and talk about our children. I want nothing better than to make plans for them for the summer. I think your Çidde might be able to come to the U.S. for a couple of weeks, and then all three of our children could return to Paris for a couple of weeks. That way, they can get the feeling of both homes and make better connections with each other. Please sit down, finish your drink, and let's see if we can firm this up."

  Elise sat back down and picked up her drink. She lifted it to her lips and set it back down. "Even the smell, ugh. I can't finish it. But I will order some coffee if we can get the waiter's attention."

  The two wives then had coffee, talked more, and then stood to go their separate ways.

  Elise promised herself that once she was safely in the taxi, she would hit the bank at 8:01 a.m. and make sure the check was good.

  The money on her condo was due in two more days, and she didn't have enough money to pay. So it was urgent she get to the bank, deposit the check, and put off her landlord for a few more days while the out-of-country check cleared. He would be understanding. He was a gentleman who lived two floors up from Elise, and his wife often watched Çidde on those nights when Elise had to work late.

  As she rode along in the taxi, she didn’t notice the taxi that had pulled in behind hers and was now following. Every time Elise's cab took a different street, the following taxi did likewise.

  Then she was home. She headed up the stoop out front and then disappeared inside. The second taxi parked out front and a dark figure climbed out. The figure then hurried from the curbside to the stoop and also went inside the building.

  43

  Michael

  I was waiting in the courtroom for the final hearing to begin. In the end, I had decided to stick with it and finish the case—it was easier, all things considered, for me to gut it out. Jennifer came breezing in. She was wearing a black pantsuit and white shirt with a red tie, and her makeup appeared to be quite thick. Her cheeks and lips were a cerise color, and her deeply-sunken eyes had black false eyelashes that were stark against her white skin. I did a double-take, and I saw Wilder do the same thing. It didn't even look like the same woman.

  Wilder told the court that his client waived her presence. The truth was, he'd whispered to me, he couldn't locate her. "Never mind," I told him. "I won't object to her absence."

  So, we launched into the hearing. Wilder led off with his first witnesses, who were appraisers who had gone over the house, the medical practice, and the other assets known to exist in Illinois. Those would include automobiles, furniture, and the like.

  After they testified, it was my turn. I put my experts on the stand, and they testified as to the minuscule value of Joe's property in France and depressed the value of all Illinois assets just like I had told them to do. At that point, it looked like Jennifer was sitting on top of a few million in assets, and Elise was sitting on top of about €3500 in assets.

  The court found Jennifer's assets to be jointly owned by the parties, so there was $1.5 million ascribed to Joe, and the court awarded one-half of that to Elise and the other one-half to Jennifer. The court also awarded one-half of the insurance proceeds to Elise and one-half to Jennifer, which Jennifer assured the court had already been accomplished. The same division was made with the Qing vase and Jennifer again told the court that was a done deal. The court then had Jennifer sworn as a witness, and Wilder put her on the witness stand.

  The judge qualified her as far as who she was, her education, her work history, her earnings, her maternal responsibilities, living situation, and the fact that she was still working full time and making about $250,000 net a year. The court then went to the following litany with Jennifer:

  “Do you understand, Doctor Ipswich, my orders here today?"

  "I understand perfectly, Your Honor. I tried to settle with Elise, but that wasn’t enough for you. You are taking one-half of everything else I worked for and awarding it to this woman from Paris."

  "You further understand that I'm appointing a conservator to take over those assets and distribute them in accordance with my order today?"

  "I tried to settle with Elise, but that wasn’t enough for you. You are taking one-half of everything else I worked for and awarding it to this woman from Paris."

  "Do you also understand that you are to refrain from moving, hiding, segregating, transferring, or in any other way interfering with the conservator’s control of those assets?"

  "I understand that you are taking one-half of everything I worked for all these years and giving it away to this woman from Paris. Yes, I do understand."

  "You are making this very difficult for the court, and I have about reached the end of my patience with you. When I ask you questions, I expect answers to those questions, not editorial commentary from you. You understand the difference?"

  "I understand that you are taking one-half of my assets and—"

  “Enough! I won't have any more of that in my courtroom. Whether you understand or not is no longer my concern. The conservator is now directed to take control of all assets and make the distribution I've ordered here today. The court has seen how difficult this case has been for Mr. Wilder. Hence, he is awarded legal fees of $150,000 to be paid by Jennifer Ipswich. Gentlemen, is there anything further?"

  Both Wilder and I answered in the negative. We had nothing further.

  When we were finished in court, the judge called us forward, the two attorneys, and told us off the record that my client would go to jail if she, in any way, disobeyed any part of the court's orders. That satisfied Wilder and put the fear of God in me. I wasn't fearful for my well-being; I was fearful for the freedom of Jennifer, who seemed more and more insulated from the reality of what was going on in this courtroom. At any rate, we were excused by th
e judge, and when we turned around to leave the judge’s bench, I realized Jennifer had left the courtroom.

  I was shocked that she had walked out without discussing with me what had just occurred. She was between a rock and a hard place, and she needed my counsel. There was action we could take. I could file a motion asking the court to put its order in abeyance while I filed an appeal of the court's order. There were other things, too, but Jennifer was nowhere to be found.

  I made my way back across the street to my office, went upstairs, and collapsed at my desk. After several minutes, I picked up the phone and asked the receptionist whether or not anyone had taken calls from Jennifer Ipswich. They said they had not, just as I had anticipated.

  I decided right then and there that I was done with the case. If she called me, I was going to respond that I was in the process of preparing and filing a motion to withdraw from her case.

  I was finished. I felt a certain sympathy for Elise Ipswich. When an attorney starts feeling sorry for the other side, it’s time to bail, to get out of the case.

  I did leave a message with my front office people that if a call came in from Jennifer, I was to be interrupted no matter what was going on in my office.

  My door was still open, but it was about to slam shut permanently.

  44

  Michael

  Jennifer had interfered with the liquidation of her assets in every way possible. So, the judge called us back into court. I had no doubt he was about to throw her in jail for her obstruction of justice.

  By now, Elise had been in France several weeks, and, I understood from Wilder, Elise’s daughter was back home from the hospital. He said they had communicated by email only, that his client was extremely busy and couldn’t take his calls at her office.

  This time, Elise couldn’t make it again. She had sent Wilder an email, explaining that Çidde was sick also and Elise couldn’t leave Paris. We had scheduled a four-way last-minute settlement conference I had begged Wilder to have. A final chance for Jennifer to sign the paperwork and conclude all problems.

  The only problem was Jennifer didn’t show up for the settlement conference either, and she didn’t call.

  So, there we were, the two of us, in Wilder's large conference room with its dozen leather chairs, drinking coffee as if we had some reason to be there together.

  I kept trying Jennifer, her home number, her cell, and her office. Her medical office told me that she had called in sick that day and said she would be staying home in bed. I had sent Marcel to her house when she didn't show up that first hour, and he had pounded on her door and leaned on the doorbell. But still, there was no answer, so we could only assume she was either hiding, or she wasn’t there.

  At this point in the whole case, I wished to high heavens I had never become involved. It felt like Jennifer had changed. She had been a smiling, sweet blond woman full of self-confidence that day I first met her at the Evanston Racket Club. Now she had changed into an irresponsible, unknown quantity that, quite frankly, I did not understand.

  She had become someone or something unlike anyone I had ever known before in her irrationality and irresponsibility. That trick she pulled with the $15,000 after the last court hearing had almost been the last straw for me.

  After an hour of waiting with Wilder for my client, I excused myself and returned to my office. Marcel was there and caught me as I came through the front door. "Can you believe this chick?" he exclaimed. "She just doesn't seem to get it, does she?"

  "Beats me," I said. "It almost seems like she wants to go to jail again. I'm going to have a motion to withdraw drawn up before I go over to the courthouse this afternoon on the Dunleavy case. I’ll file it myself and good riddance.”

  45

  Frank

  Frank Wilder gave up on settlement as well. Frustrated, he decided to go for a long drive in the countryside. He rode the elevator down to the blue level, the door slid open, and he stepped out.

  "Hello, Frank," said a voice off to his side.

  Startled, Wilder jumped and swung around. There stood Jennifer Ipswich. She was smiling and appeared to pose no threat. Then he saw: she had enough makeup on as to almost be unrecognizable. He was taken aback. What in the world?

  "I've been waiting for you, Frank," Jennifer said in a lilting voice.

  "You’ve been waiting for me; why?"

  "I've been waiting for you to take me out for dinner and drinks. Let's celebrate your victory. I want you to know there are no hard feelings about the money stuff. It’s like a seduction to get it away from me, am I right? So, would you like to go out and eat and have some female companionship that's different from what you get at home? Maybe conclude the metaphoric seduction? Tell me, Frank, are we on the same page?"

  "You've got to be kidding me! There is no way in hell I'm going anywhere with you, and I can't even believe this is happening. I'm going to ask you now to stand aside and allow me to get into my car and drive away. Or are you going to be a problem?"

  "Darling man, I'm never a problem. I'm always the solution." She smiled and leered at him as she moved two steps closer.

  Wilder took a step away and began walking rapidly in the direction of his car. His parking slot was down at the other end of the blue level, and he headed in that direction. He realized from the tap tap tap of her high heels that Jennifer Ipswich was following close behind him. Suddenly, he stopped, spun around, and held up an accusing finger. “All right! Hold it right there! If you come one step closer, I'm calling the police, and I'm going to have you arrested for harassment and assault. Now get the hell away from me."

  Ignoring him, Jennifer closed the difference between them and reached out and touched the side of Wilder's face. He could smell her perfume—rose water. It was a very disagreeable smell and, in fact, reeked so bad his head snapped back.

  He whipped out his cell phone and dialed 911. As he held it to his ear, Jennifer suddenly reached out and swiped her arm across his, making the cell phone drop to the floor. She scooped it up and began running in her high heels away from Wilder, back toward the parking level elevators.

  He didn't see it coming, but her car was parked five cars away from his, and she was able to jump inside her vehicle and lock the doors before Wilder could get to her.

  She held his cell phone up to the window, taunting him.

  She then started her car and backed out with a squeal of tires. Before he could catch up, she was up and out of the parking garage and had made a right with traffic and then another right at the end of the street.

  When he jumped into his car and made the top of the exit, he had no idea which way she had gone. So, with a great sigh of dismay, he made a left turn and began driving home.

  Jennifer drove a circuitous route back to her home in Evanston. She parked inside her garage, closed the garage door, and went inside, Wilder's cell phone still inside her purse.

  She wasted no time running to her bedroom and stripping off her clothes in front of the large mirror on the dressing table wall. She snapped several pictures of herself in the nude with Wilder’s cell phone, then put it on the bed while she went to the closet and pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

  She then retrieved the cell phone and went into her office, where she toyed with the phone until she found Wilder's wife's phone number.

  She then texted that number and attached the nude photographs of herself. She sent a text that read:

  Darling, this afternoon was incredible. I'm sending these pictures to you to remind you how beautiful I looked at the hotel. You said you’d never seen such an incredible body, and had never been so turned on.

  She then hit send, and the text went off into the night to the cell phone belonging to Frank Wilder's wife.

  46

  Michael

  That night when I got home, I checked emails. I always check emails when I get home to Evanston from Chicago. I was quite surprised to find an email for me from Elise Ipswich.

  Michael Gresham, I'm writi
ng to you, but I hope this email goes no further and you keep it just between the two of us. I need to be upfront and honest with you. Ever since we met, I can't get your eyes out of my mind. Nor can I get your body out of my mind. You are the exact form of man I have wanted all of my life. Please do not be shocked by this. And please do not think I'm too forward. In France, it's very common for a woman to approach a man. Maybe it's not in the US, but here it is. Let me continue.

  We both know I might be a woman on the rebound. But I also know my feelings, and I have been very much in touch with my feelings all of my life. While I still miss my husband desperately and wish he was alive, I have, at times during my marriage, loved other men. Joseph knew that, and I was open about that with him, as we French are. So, I can tell you that even though I still have my feelings for my husband, I can see you and see that you are someone I would like to be with. Please do not just erase this email and write me off as another crazy woman. I'm not that. I'm well educated, attractive, and am under no duress except for what you know about my financial situation. But now the judge has taken care of that, and there are no longer any disagreements between you and me. You are free to do what you wish to do about me without any problems. You no longer owe any allegiance to Jennifer Ipswich, and so I ask you to please respond to my email and tell me there is at least some interest on your part. For I have seen how you look at me, and I like what I've seen.

  Yours, Elise Ipswich.