Noah's Law

by Randa Abdel-Fattah

  Who the HELL is Webb and why the HELL is he bringing my case DOWN? Is the insurer going to screw things up for you?

  ‘That’s all I could get. I didn’t want to risk holding onto the phone for much longer. After that I went to security and told them I’d accidentally picked up the wrong phone. We called my phone. Luckily Bernie hadn’t switched it off. He came down with Casey.’

  ‘Did he suspect anything?’

  ‘Nah. He’s never met me. Neither has Casey. He wasn’t the most polite of guys but I guarantee he had no idea.’

  ‘Jacinta’s going to freak out.’

  ‘About the text messages or ’cause I took his phone?’

  We looked at each other nervously.

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Don’t feel bad,’ Amit said. ‘Bernie doesn’t deserve any rights.’

  Although Amit’s comment made me uncomfortable I filed it in the back of my mind, determined to focus on the new information we now had.

  ‘Your gut instinct was right,’ Amit continued. ‘There’s something seriously wrong with this case.’

  I began to pace. ‘Okay, here’s what I think. After Maureen’s death, Rodney and Bernie decided they’d try to profit from it. So they must be in on it together. Plaintiff and defendant. That’s seriously screwed. It also probably explains why Rodney is insisting on admitting his company was guilty. Bernie gets paid faster that way.’

  ‘And Rodney. I mean, if they’re in on it together they’d each get a cut.’

  ‘I need to get back to work. Aunt Nirvine is going to shoot me. Only so much can go wrong at the registry.’

  We agreed on a meeting place for lunch and I headed back to the office, Amit to the Queen Victoria Building. For the first time since I started at Aunt Nirvine’s I didn’t feel bad that Amit was out free while I was at work.

  This case had me thinking now.

  ‘There’s nothing we can do,’ Jacinta said hotly.

  It was after work and we were standing on the corner of Pitt Street and Martin Place, arguing.

  ‘You invaded Bernie’s privacy. You stole his personal property. Any information gained from that is useless.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But nothing, Noah,’ she snapped, the colour rising in her face. ‘You’ve taken this – this witch hunt – too far.’

  ‘Can you please calm down for one second and hear me out?’

  She shrugged, like the topic was closed and anything I had to say would make no difference.

  ‘Listen,’ I pleaded. ‘It’s not like we broke into his house or hacked into his computer. It’s not even like we stole his phone. It was a switch—’ She tried to interrupt but I waved to silence her. ‘Just let me finish. Bernie and Amit’s phones are identical. It’s reasonable – I mean, it’s totally possible – that Amit could have accidentally picked up the wrong phone.’

  ‘The chances of which increase significantly given that he deliberately knocked over the box!’

  I hesitated. ‘Well, yes, fair enough.’

  She flashed me a triumphant look.

  ‘But knocking over the box was also pretty possible. It could easily happen. You know, in the chaos of getting your things through security.’

  Jacinta folded her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. ‘What exactly is your point?’

  ‘We’re not criminals, Jacinta. You can explain what happened as an accident. A phone drops. You pick up the wrong one. Totally realistic.’

  ‘Ridiculous. That’s like saying that deliberately running somebody over isn’t criminal given that one’s foot could accidentally step on the accelerator and not the brake.’

  Damn she was good.

  ‘Not to mention that going through Bernie’s phone and checking out his messages can’t be explained as an accident,’ she continued. ‘That was one hundred percent your choice.’

  ‘Well, yeah, that’s true.’ I looked at her guiltily. ‘But really, in the larger scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. They’re crooks. They’re taking us all for a ride. It’s their morals we should focus on, not mine.’

  ‘I don’t want anything to do with this anymore,’ she said.

  ‘You’re so stubborn.’

  ‘I’m stubborn?’ she shrieked, well and truly losing the plot on Pitt Street. ‘I’m stubborn?! You can’t be serious. You are the most inflexible person I’ve ever met!’

  ‘Well at least my stubbornness got us this far. I wasn’t so wrong about Bernie, was I?’

  ‘Well I happen to think that the end does not justify the means. So if you intend to wage a war against him, you’re on your own.’

  ‘That’s fine with me. Because it’s exactly what I plan to do.’

  And with that comment I stormed off to the train station without once turning back.

  I was pretty upset. I didn’t want to be on bad terms with Jacinta. She was my only ally at the firm. I just couldn’t understand her reaction. Why was she taking all this anger out on me when Bernie was the crook? I’d filled her in on all the things he’d said to me and Casey. How he ‘moped around all day’, devastated by Maureen’s death. How he ‘couldn’t stand the loneliness’ but couldn’t bring himself to be with anyone else. And I’d told her about the fireworks between Bernie and Rodney at the settlement conference. They’d pretended they’d never met before, and Rodney pleaded with his lawyer to settle the matter! The more I remembered, the more my blood boiled.

  Which was why Jacinta’s response seemed so out of whack. Yeah, okay, I understood we had broken the rules. But some rules were worth breaking. Bernie and Rodney were scumbags. I wasn’t going to make any apologies. I wasn’t sorry for what Amit had done. I was thrilled that he’d knocked that box over and made the switch. If Jacinta wanted to sulk, so be it. I wasn’t going to allow this bullshit act of theirs to continue.

  I agreed on one point she’d made, though. I couldn’t exactly walk into Casey’s office and say, ‘Hey, we stole Bernie’s phone and went through his texts. The case is crap.’

  We needed evidence. The kind that wouldn’t make the lawyers freak out if we showed them.

  ‘Do you like it?’

  Mum stood over me, beaming, as a sleeping bag fell out of the large gift bag.

  ‘It’s great! Thanks.’

  She sank into the couch and tucked her feet up under her.

  ‘For your trip to Terrigal.’

  ‘He’s still not allowed to go,’ Nadine smirked.

  Mum raised an eyebrow. ‘Would you like me to talk to your dad?’

  My phone beeped. New text message. The twins lunged at the coffee table, competing to see who would bring it to me first. It was cute, the way they looked up to me as their cool big brother. Sometimes I felt bad that we didn’t get to spend as much time together as I would have liked.

  Jenny won and proudly presented the phone to me. I opened my arms out to both of them and Jenine shoved Jenny aside and leapt into my arms, Jenny climbing over her seconds later.

  I managed to open the phone, ignoring the sound of Nadine in the background hassling Mum to speak to Dad about letting her go to her friend’s house party.

  It was from Amit.

  About that text re M’s sista. Should we try & find her? She obviously h8s Bernie.

  He had a point. Maybe that would be the key to obtaining some new evidence. We needed information from someone completely unconnected to us. Information that would let us get Bernie without landing Amit, Jacinta or me in trouble.

  Of course, we didn’t have the foggiest idea where Maureen’s sister was. And even if we managed to find her, she might refuse to help us out. Maybe she didn’t even have any dirt to dish on Bernie. But we had to try. I just needed to figure out a way to track her down.

  Mum’s voice cut through, interrupting my stream of thoughts. ‘Noah, I said do you want me to talk to your dad?’

  ‘Huh?’ I mumbled distractedly. ‘About what?’

  Nadine looked at me oddly. ‘Terrigal, you moron.’


  ‘Oh, oh yeah,’ I said. ‘Nah, it’s okay, Mum. I’m serving my sentence at the moment and he’s not going to rule again.’ I jumped up, stuffed the sleeping bag back into the gift bag and placed it next to the couch. ‘I need to make a call.’

  I hurried to my bedroom. It was pretty bare because we only stayed with Mum every other weekend. But it had the good stuff: phone line and laptop. I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in my hand. I needed to think things through before I brainstormed with Amit. The only person that could lead us to Maureen’s sister was Bernie. There was no information about her in the file or police report. I didn’t even know her name; Maureen and Bernie had the same surname so Maureen obviously hadn’t kept her maiden name. I racked my brain trying to think of a way to get the sister’s details from Bernie when it was obvious Bernie and the sister hated each other. I also couldn’t risk Bernie getting suss that we were digging for information.

  I couldn’t think straight with the noise of the television coming from the next room. I was about to yell at Nadine to turn it down but then paused. The ad was for a local gym, promoting a special offer: recommend a friend or relative and get a month’s free membership.

  We knew from Webb’s statement that Maureen had been a member of a gym.

  I called out to Nadine. It took three times before she agreed to come to my room.

  ‘What?’ she said rudely.

  ‘I need your help.’

  She leaned against the doorframe. ‘In exchange for what?’

  ‘It’s your turn to empty the dishwasher next. I’ll do it for you.’

  ‘Tell me what you need me to do first and then we can negotiate.’

  I tried to look casual. ‘I need you to make a call.’

  She popped her chewing gum and then gave me a smug look. ‘Is this for another one of your pranks?’

  I shook my head. ‘No, this is important. But I don’t want Dad or Mum to know.’

  ‘Relax. I’m not a snitch.’

  She had conveniently forgotten that she’d been the one to blab to Mum about why Dad was punishing me. But I held my tongue.

  ‘So what kind of call?’

  She sat down on the bed and I closed the door. I took out my copy of Bernie’s file from my backpack and found Bernie’s number.

  ‘Okay, here’s the background. I need you to call this guy and pretend you’re from “Fitness for Life”. Say that a member called Maureen gave her sister’s details for a promotional offer and you want to confirm her sister’s name because the handwriting on the form is not clear. If Bernie says that Maureen is dead—’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Just listen. If he says that Maureen is dead, say that you didn’t know. Apologise, suck up to him. But make sure that you get that name.’

  Her brow creased in concentration. ‘So I’m from “Fitness for Life”?’

  I sighed. ‘Well, that’s the best I can do. I don’t actually know what gym Maureen belonged to, so it’s a risk. Hopefully Bernie won’t have paid too much attention.’

  Nadine took the phone from me and stood up. ‘Okay, I’ll do it – if you’ll do my dishwashing duties for the next two weeks.’

  ‘That’s over the top.’

  ‘That’s my last offer. Take it or leave it.’

  ‘Fine,’ I said impatiently. ‘Just make the call.’

  She took a deep breath then dialled the number. ‘It’s ringing,’ she whispered.

  We waited. A couple of seconds later she waved her hand excitedly.

  ‘Er, hello, is this the White residence?’

  ‘Not so formal,’ I hissed. ‘You work at a gym not the RSL.’

  ‘Yeah, I’d like to speak to Maureen White. I’m calling from her gym with some exciting news about the promotion we’re running. Oh, that’s fine, sir, I understand if you’re not interested but this will only take a moment of your time.’

  Wow. Nadine had hidden talents. I was impressed.

  ‘Maureen gave us her sister’s details to get one month’s free membership but the problem is that the handwriting on this form is shocking – oh, oh . . .’

  ‘What?’ I whispered nervously.

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, sir. That’s terrible. How tragic.’ Nadine gave me a look as if to say ‘help!’.

  ‘Don’t let him hang up,’ I whispered. ‘Get that name.’

  ‘I promise you that her membership has been frozen and I’ll close it now as we speak so you can be sure that no money will be taken out of your bank account. The last thing you need to be worrying about is gym fees.’

  ‘Brilliant!’ I mouthed.

  ‘Sir, while I wait for this ridiculously slow computer to load, could you confirm Maureen’s sister’s name? I’d like to waive her joining fee, under the circumstances.’

  There was a pause then Nadine looked at me and winked. ‘So that’s Claudia Hognio? Thank you, sir. Oh look the computer has come back to life again. I’ll just press this button here and your wife is now off the system and you never have to hear from us again. Thank you for your patience, sir. Bye!’

  Nadine hung up.

  ‘You were awesome!’

  She took a bow and grinned. ‘What a sucker.’

  ‘Was he suspicious?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It sounded like his main worry was the gym continuing to take payments. So what’s this all about?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Tell me,’ she pleaded.

  ‘I can’t. It’s work stuff. Breaks client privacy if I blab.’

  ‘That’s bull. Amit’s in on this. I hear you guys talking about a case all the time on the phone.’

  ‘He’s different. And stop eavesdropping.’

  ‘What? A client’s privacy can be broken to him and not me?’

  ‘Couldn’t have said it better myself. He’s my friend. You’re my sister. End of story.’

  She glared at me. ‘Dishwasher duty for a month.’

  ‘We agreed on two weeks!’

  She walked to the door and flashed me an angry look. ‘That information is clearly valuable so my price was too cheap. Dishwasher duty for a month or I will blab. Maybe even get a week-long disciplinary hearing with Dad. Wouldn’t that be nice?’

  ‘I thought you weren’t a snitch.’

  ‘Only when I choose not to be.’ She grinned and walked out.

  I sighed and turned on my laptop. Amit was online so I sent him an email.

  From: noah@gmail.com

  The sista’s name is Claudia Hognio. Can you try and get an address?

  From: amit@gmail.com

  You got the name?! HOW??

  From: noah@gmail.com

  Subterfuge is a Nabulsi trademark. I have an idea. Jacinta will kill me if she finds out but it’s got to be done. I’m going to send an anonymous note to the defendant’s solicitors. I want them to know about Bernie’s girlfriend. And I want them to know Claudia hates Bernie. Maybe they can get some information out of her. Use her at the hearing.

  From: amit@gmail.com

  I’m on your side. Jacinta will come around. Every time she cries about Bernie’s rights remind her that his wife’s head was bashed to a pulp and that the scumbag is trying to make money out of her blood.

  Amit’s email was just the kind of encouragement I needed. I spent the next hour coming up with a five-line note to Humphries.

  Humphries,

  Bernie White has a girlfriend.

  Claudia Hognio is Maureen White’s sister. Speak to her.

  Burn this note.

  It was pretty dumb, really. A note would be evidence of my tip-off. I was wasting my time. I would call him. That way there’d be no evidence. Nothing to connect the tip-off to me.

  I used the payphone near the train station on my way to work the next morning. I dialled Humphries’ direct line. He answered.

  ‘Jeff Humphries speaking.’

  ‘Listen carefully,’ I said in a low growl. ‘Bernie White has a girlfriend.’

  ‘Excuse me?’
<
br />   ‘Just listen. Claudia Hognio is Maureen’s sister. Speak to her. Tell no-one about this call.’

  ‘Who is this?’

  People were so predictable. Like his question was so original that it would convince me to reveal myself. I hung up.

  I heard Jacinta’s voice: ‘The end does not justify the means. So if you intend to wage a war against him, you’re on your own.’

  I couldn’t undo what I’d done. The war had begun.

  BAZZA WOZ HERE was the best discovery of my life. It had only let me down a couple of times so far (I’d just got one foot on bazza when the guy beside me, who’d figured out my strategy, pushed his way onto woz). Most of the time now, I was getting a seat.

  At first I’d been sickened by people who slept on the train. Why would you let yourself go like that? Head lolling around like one of those dashboard figurines; mouth hanging open. Sometimes, there was even dribble.

  But then I fell asleep myself and it was awesome. I got an extra half-hour. The humiliation was worth it.

  That morning I fell asleep three stops before Wynyard station, which was stupid of me but totally out of my control. When I woke up I realised I’d missed my stop. I was in St Leonards.

  When I arrived at work at nine thirty John was standing by the lifts.

  ‘Hey, dude, you’re late. I was just leaving for a Law Society young lawyers morning tea down at the Supreme Court. Want to come?’

  ‘Why not?’ I said cheerfully. It was a chance to get out of the office. What better way to start a working day?

  ‘So do you like being a lawyer?’ I asked John as we walked to court.

  ‘I love it,’ he said. ‘I get up in the morning and I want to go to work. Casey tells me it’s because I’m a graduate and that I’ll be a cynic soon enough.’

  The Law Society brunch was being hosted on the top floor of the Supreme Court building. The restaurant was massive and had a great view of the city and suburbs beyond, the sparkling harbour and the Botanic Gardens. We checked out the food selection: platters of cheese, olives and crackers; pastries, tarts and donuts. I went straight for the donuts while John grabbed a handful of crackers, spreading one with some Brie.