The Many Aspects of Mobile Home Living

by Martin Clark

  Wolf picked up a folder from the table and walked toward the witness stand. “Now, Mrs. Wheeling, I understand there is an allegation that you committed adultery with a certain Mr. Falstaf, some months ago. Are you familiar with that suggestion?”

  “Yes, sir, I am.”

  “And is it true?”

  “No sir. No. Absolutely not. It’s crazy.”

  Evers looked at the judge. He looked at his wife. At his lawyer. “What the fuck,” he said under his breath.

  “Mrs. Wheeling, could you go forward and tell the court the circumstances involved in your meeting Mr. Falstaf at the Iron Duke Inn?”

  “Yes. Mr. Falstaf is a farmer. He is also a businessman. I met him through my friend Ellen Wyatt. Ellen raises cattle and organizes conventions and expositions, does trade shows, stuff like that.”

  “Ellen is a fucking, man-hating, feminoid bitch from Duke,” Evers said to White. “She doesn’t know a cow from a large stone.”

  “Ellen and Mr. Falstaf and I had thought about buying some property, older motels and so on, and turning them into art deco sorts of places. One of the places we were interested in was the Iron Duke Inn.”

  “I see.”

  “So we went there to inspect it. Ellen, myself and Mr. Falstaf.” Jo Miller looked at her lawyer, then at the judge.

  “Had you mentioned this venture to your husband?” Wolf nodded toward Evers.

  “Yes, I had. I’d asked him about investing in it. I didn’t really have all the money we’d need.”

  “Did she mention that to you, Evers?” White asked quietly, his mouth next to Evers’ ear.

  “What the fuck do you think?” he snapped back.

  “And I take it that you were at this motel one night?”

  “A lot of nights. Looking at the place. I was there with Ellen, Mr. Falstaf and some other people. We looked at different places, too.”

  “Did you and Mr. Falstaf ever go there alone?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ever have sex there?”

  “No sir. No.” Jo Miller set her head and raised her voice.

  “Did you ever go there for any purpose other than business?”

  “Just business.”

  “Tell the court about the night you allegedly engaged in what Mr. White has characterized as, let me see, ‘gross marital misconduct and adultery with Hobart Falstaf.’”

  “We—I mean Mr. Falstaf, Ellen and I—were at the motel looking at some of the rooms. We were talking about redoing them—costs, colors, all sorts of things. And Evers shows up.”

  “You mean Mr. Wheeling?” White interrupted.

  “Yes, and—”

  “Was he alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “We were in a room—looking at it, you know—with plans and drawings, carpet swatches, paints and chips and so forth. I have all of that with me if the judge wants to see it.”

  “Had you rented this room, checked in?”

  “No. Absolutely not. Ellen had made arrangements for us to see the place, to tour the rooms.”

  “How did she do that?” Wolf asked.

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her. She dealt with the owners.”

  Evers looked at White, touched his arm and leaned into him. “This is a total fucking falsehood. I simply cannot believe she would lie like this. It’s just brazen.”

  “She expects to be well paid for her time as your wife,” White said.

  “What did Mr. Wheeling do when he arrived?” Wolf asked, looking across the courtroom at Evers.

  “He was angry. He started acting crazy. He accused me of all sorts of things.”

  “What did he say, exactly?”

  “I’d rather not repeat it.” Jo Miller rubbed her eyes. Her voice was soft, and she was looking at the floor.

  “Please, Mrs. Wheeling.” Wolf looked at Jo Miller. The play-acting was, Evers thought, just awful.

  “It’s unpleasant, what he said.”

  “We understand.”

  “Well … he said, ‘I know you’re fucking the man, I’m just not sure about the woman.’”

  Evers hit the desk with his fist and jerked back in his chair. White put his hand on Evers’ thigh and shook his head, very slightly, just once. Wolf paused for a moment to highlight the outburst.

  “And what did you do or say, Mrs. Wheeling?”

  “Well, I just tried to explain things to him and calm him down.”

  “Were you able to?” Wolf gestured toward Evers when he asked Jo Miller the question.

  “No. He just kept yelling and finally left.”

  “Have you ever talked about this problem?” Wolf asked.

  “Not really. Evers left Norton after several days and went to Utah with his brother. He has completely refused to have anything to do with me, just left me. I’ve tried to call him and see him, but he’s cut me off.”

  “Mrs. Wheeling, have you ever, on any occasion, with anyone, been unfaithful to your husband?”

  “No.”

  “Were you surprised by your husband’s behavior?”

  “I was. Evers and I always had a decent marriage. This was unexpected. His refusal to see me was unexpected. His behavior now is unexpected.” Jo Miller’s voice cracked. “This has just been so … so bad. Evers had never done anything like this.”

  “Did you give him any reason to leave you and the marriage union?”

  “None that I’m aware of. I loved Evers and tried to do what he wanted. I thought that he was very happy, all in all. I thought so.”

  “Are you asking for alimony, to help you live until the divorce is final?”

  “Yes.” Jo Miller started to cry, sucking in air and mucus and dabbing at her cheeks with her fingers. The weeping turned into coughs, and when she covered her mouth with her hands, Evers noticed that she had put on her wedding band before coming to court. Wolf handed her some water and his handkerchief, and waited for her to settle down.

  “How much do you make each month, Mrs. Wheeling?” Wolf’s voice was low, very understanding.

  “About eight hundred dollars.”

  “Do you have any other source of income, other than your work?”

  “No. That’s it.”

  “I believe that we have established through discovery that your husband has vocational income and investment income totaling two hundred thirty thousand dollars per year, correct?”

  “I think, yes.” Jo Miller looked at Evers for the first time since she began testifying.

  “Judge, Mr. White and I agreed that we would submit the parties’ tax returns for the last three years.” Wolf held up several papers. “They confirm that last year Mr. Wheeling made two hundred thirty thousand, six hundred and eight dollars. We formally would like to introduce these into evidence.” Wolf handed the papers to the bailiff, who handed them to the judge.

  “Any questions about the documents, Mr. White?” Rollins looked at Evers and his lawyer over the top of the tax returns.

  “No sir. That’s what my client made.”

  Wolf stopped asking questions long enough to let the judge look over the tax returns, then continued. “Mrs. Wheeling, I believe, also, that your husband’s net worth is somewhere close to three million dollars, exclusive of the farm you’re living on in Durham, correct?”

  “That’s about what it adds up to, yes.”

  “Has he ever abused you?”

  “Physically?” She looked at Wolf.

  “In any way?”

  “Not really. I understand recently that he has committed adultery, if that—”

  “Objection, sir.” White stood. “That would be hearsay.”

  “Sustained. Mrs. Wheeling, just try not to tell us what others have told you, all right?” Rollins was very gentle in addressing Jo Miller.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s fine. It took all of us three years of school to learn what to say, what not to.” Judge Rollins nodded at Jo Miller. “Let’s contin
ue.”

  “Has he ever abused you, Mrs. Wheeling? That was my question.”

  “No. Until he left, no.” Jo Miller’s face was red and damp. “I’m not saying … I’m not trying to make him out a bastard or anything. But I didn’t want this, and Evers did refuse to live with me and now has completely refused to see me or talk to me. He’s just stopped having anything to do with me, deserted me…. I’m not sure why.”

  Evers turned to his lawyer. “She’s great, huh? Doesn’t seem vindictive, she’s wounded just enough, reasonable—shit, what a production.”

  “Mrs. Wheeling,” Wolf continued, “is there anything else you’d like to add?”

  “No. I don’t guess so.” Jo Miller looked at the judge. “No sir.” She looked at Evers.

  “Your witness, Mr. White.” Wolf said this in a very quiet, understated voice, without any hint of triumph.

  White rose. “Your honor, could I have about ten minutes to speak with my client?”

  “Certainly.”

  White and Evers left the courtroom and stood outside in the hall, close to each other in a corner. A young lawyer was across from them talking to a boy with wild red hair and pale skin. Evers could smell liquor coming from the boy. The boy’s lawyer was using his hands a lot when he spoke.

  “She did a good job, Evers.”

  “No shit she did. We should be able to impeach her, though. She’s already admitted being there with Falstaf in your interrogatories, right? Didn’t she? Didn’t you tell me that?”

  “I did.”

  “Well, nail her.”

  “That’s all she admitted.”

  “What do you mean?”

  White tossed Jo Miller’s pretrial answers onto a small table. “Read it for yourself.” Evers noticed a year-old People magazine and an empty green plastic bottle on the table.

  Jo Miller’s answers under oath admitted that she was present at the Iron Duke and that Falstaf had also been there. Evers read through the rest of her answers.

  “Where is it, Ike?”

  “Where is what?”

  “The magic question. All you got her to answer is that she was there and he was there. Did you ask her if they committed adultery?”

  “It appears that we didn’t.”

  “We fucking didn’t?” Evers yelled. “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “You left it out? You sent out twenty pages of questions, and you didn’t ask her the most important one?”

  “You felt sure that she wouldn’t lie, Evers. You told me that. I asked you twice. I thought that tactically it would be wise to let her deal with it the first time here, especially since you said she wouldn’t lie. I wanted her to do it cold, without a script. You said she was honest.”

  “Don’t start blaming me for this. Now we can’t impeach her. There’s nothing inconsistent. It’s my word against hers.”

  “What about your witness, this deputy who was with you?”

  “He’s not here. You told me there’d be no need.”

  “Well, I believed you when you said she wouldn’t lie. You said to worry about the sign, that she’d hit you with the sign. I didn’t want to tip our hand and let her prepare too much.”

  “I fucking believed you when you said you’d take care of things,” Evers shouted. He shook his head. “It’s just too obvious to lie about. I can’t believe this.”

  “Try to get the deputy. I’ll call and have somebody try to check out the records down there at the motel. I just didn’t anticipate this. I can’t prepare for something if you tell me it won’t happen. Also, we can try to get Falstaf in, maybe get a continuance if you can’t find the deputy.” White loosened his tie. “Hell, Evers, it looks like they were going to go to the wall anyhow, turn this into a swearing contest. She and her friend are going to say that it never happened, you and your buddy will say that it did.”

  “Shit. There isn’t going to be any contest unless I get my witness.”

  “Calm down, Evers. Okay? Try to get the deputy.”

  Evers went to a pay phone, White right behind him. Evers dialed the wrong number. Then he dropped the receiver. Finally he got the dispatcher at the Norton sheriff’s office. H. T. Moran was on duty and near a phone. After about five minutes, he called Evers back. He would be there immediately. No worry. No problem. He remembered everything. H. T. hung up the phone in Norton, and Evers nodded at his lawyer.

  “Let’s drag this thing out, okay, Ike? He’s going to need some travel time.”

  “I’m sure she’ll have other witnesses, too,” White said.

  “Let’s just stay out here until the judge sends the bailiff to get us. Thank god this is just a temporary hearing. Next time I’ll do my own interrogatories.”

  When the trial resumed, White had his chance to cross-examine Jo Miller. It dawned on Evers that his wife was the smarter of the two, and that she was better prepared. White asked his first questions like a TV lawyer, big looping broadsides without any disguise or subtlety, as if he expected this woman who had just given one account under oath to suddenly change her testimony because a different lawyer asked her the same question and blustered when he did it. “You did commit adultery in that motel room, didn’t you, Mrs. Wheeling?” White spread his legs and folded his arms across his chest.

  “No.”

  “And you have in fact committed adultery with Mr. Falstaf, haven’t you?”

  “No.”

  “You know, ma’am, that we have pictures of the two of you at the motel? Just the two of you?” He took a step closer to the witness stand, tried to bully Jo Miller.

  “You probably do. That wouldn’t be all that hard to manipulate since we have been there at the same time.”

  “And you’re telling the court that Mr. Wheeling was there alone?”

  “Right.” Jo Miller looked directly at White.

  “He didn’t come with a police officer?”

  “Not that I saw.” She shrugged.

  “And you claim that Miss Wyatt was there, too?”

  “Yes. She was. She’ll tell you that, too. She’s here.” Jo Miller was calm.

  White hesitated and stuck his hands into his pockets. “You testified that your husband was aware of this potential investment, this project?”

  “Sure. At first he encouraged us.”

  “He did?”

  “Yes, Mr. White, he did. In fact, he knew all about us being at the motel that night; that’s how he found us. And now he’s put together this affair story to suit his own purposes.”

  “What other businesses does Mr. Falstaf own, Mrs. Wheeling?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “How many other hotels or motels?”

  “I’m not sure,” Jo Miller answered again.

  “He doesn’t own any, isn’t that correct?”

  “He may. I don’t know.”

  “He’s your business partner, but you don’t know?”

  “All I know is that he had the money and was interested in the project.” Jo Miller still seemed very composed.

  “The bottom line is that he’s a cow farmer with an eleventh-grade education, isn’t it, Mrs. Wheeling?”

  Jo Miller sat forward in her chair. “Ellen told me that he employs ten or fifteen people and has a substantial payroll. I guess that you could ask her or him about the rest. We needed financial backing, not a rocket scientist.”

  “Is Mr. Falstaf married?”

  Jo Miller twisted a little in the witness stand. “I think so. Yes.”

  Wolf stood up and objected. “Judge, we’ve listened to an awful lot about Mr. Falstaf and a lot of other irrelevant information, and I haven’t complained. But I think we’ve gone far enough.”

  Rollins shook his head. “It’s proper. It’s proper cross-examination. I’d like to know a little bit about these folks.”

  “Thank you,” White said. He moved closer to Jo Miller, as close as he could get to the witness stand. “How did you discover Mr. Falstaf and his interest in the
motel business?”

  “Like I said, I met him through Ellen. It’s my understanding that they had a booth or program at one of her shows about agricultural things and ways for farmers to diversify. She put us in touch.”

  “Now, when you claim that Mr. Wheeling left you to live in Norton, the fact is that you left him, didn’t you? Refused to go with him?” White stared at her.

  “He chose his job over my feelings and my career.”

  “When he finished law school, you had no career and he had a promising job, and you simply refused to help him, support him or go with him.”

  “I certainly had no career options in Norton.”

  “I see,” said White. “And in the years since Judge Wheeling moved to Norton, and became a judge, what have you done career-wise? You’ve done very little in terms of work or further education, isn’t that correct?”

  “How could I?”

  “Well, what’s stopping you?”

  “I wasn’t going to mention it, but since you’re trying to make me look so hateful and lazy, one of the main reasons I didn’t want to move with Evers is because he uses drugs.”

  White looked surprised. “Drugs? Judge Wheeling? What drugs? When?”

  “Cocaine … marijuana. He and his brother smoke hash sometimes.”

  “That’s absurd, ma’am. Do you have any proof?” White tried to sound certain of himself, but he was clearly off balance.

  “Well, ask him to take a drug test.” Jo Miller looked at the judge, then at Evers.

  “Will you, Mrs. Wheeling?” White asked her.

  “Sure. Right now. Let’s go.” She looked at the judge again.

  Wolf stood up again. “Judge, Mr. White seems to have opened Pandora’s box. I would formally move the court to require both parties to submit to drug screens.” He looked across the courtroom at Evers.

  “I’m sure my client has nothing to hide and would love the opportunity to clear his name.” What else could he say, Evers thought.

  Rollins looked at Evers. “Mr. Wheeling?”

  “Sure.” Evers wanted to kill Jo Miller. She had hooked a small truth to a number of lies. He had never used cocaine or hash in his life, but a positive test for marijuana would make the other untruths seem believable, and undercut his credibility on everything else.

  “So be it,” said Rollins. “We’ll have the tests done before everyone leaves. I’m not sure how relevant it is, but if everyone agrees, so be it. Next question, Mr. White.”