Skipper nods thoughtfully. "And then what happened, Mrs. Holmes?"
"He became distant. I began to suspect he was seeing another woman."
"Was he?" he asks gently.
"Yes. He was having an affair with Diana Kennedy."
Murmurs in the back of the courtroom.
Skipper moves closer to her. "How did you find out about the affair, Mrs. Holmes?"
"I hired a private investigator. He found them in bed together in early December." She holds her head high. "I confronted Bob. I told him he had to break off the affair, or I'd leave him."
"What happened?"
"He broke up with her." She doesn't hide her disdain. "A few weeks later, my private eye found them together again. I decided to end our marriage. I was there when he was served on December thirtieth."
"Mrs. Holmes, was your husband upset when he was served with the divorce papers?"
"Objection. State of mind."
"Overruled."
"He took it pretty well. He'd been divorced several times."
"Do you think he was so upset that he may have been driven to suicide?"
"Objection. Speculative."
"Overruled."
"No. He took it in stride. I think he was relieved when I filed the papers."
I glance at Diana's mother in the gallery. She closes her eyes.
Skipper cringes only slightly. "No further questions."
"Mrs. Holmes," I say, "what time was your husband served with divorce papers?"
"About five-thirty in the evening."
"And who was present when he was served?"
"A bunch of people. They were all in the main conference room at Simpson and Gates."
"What was your husband doing when he was served?"
She scowls. "I believe he was on the telephone."
"Wasn't he sitting in a room with his client and a group of attorneys? And weren't they in negotiations on a significant business transaction?"
"Yes."
"Isn't it a fact that he barely looked up when you and your process server walked in because he was in heated negotiations on a multimillion-dollar deal?"
"I was barely able to get his attention."
"So, it's not really surprising that he didn't react when he saw you, is it?"
"He knew what was going on."
I take a step back. "Did he look at the papers your process server handed him?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Briefly."
"You mean he may have glanced at them."
"He knew what the papers were."
"The fact is, Mrs. Holmes, your husband had very little reaction to the papers because he was concentrating on his deal and he expected you to file the papers. Isn't that true?"
Skipper leaps up. "Objection. Argumentative."
"Sustained. Move along, Mr. Daley."
"Mrs. Holmes, did your husband carry any life insurance?"
"Objection. Relevance."
"Overruled."
She says Bob carried a five-million-dollar policy naming herself as beneficiary, and a million-dollar policy for each of the kids.
"Have you received the proceeds from the policies yet?"
"No. The insurance company is working on the claim. They're very slow."
I'll bet. I'm sure the insurance company is hoping it's a suicide. Then they won't have to pay anything. "Did it occur to you that your husband might change the beneficiaries if you were divorced?"
"Objection. Speculative."
"Overruled."
"Of course, Mr. Daley. I fully expected it." She gives me her "big-firm evil litigator" look. "And if you're suggesting I had some incentive to see my husband dead, you're out of your mind."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the phone company supervisor nod. I've gone a little too far. I have to remember that she's the grieving widow. "Mrs. Holmes," I say, "do you know the names of the beneficiaries of your husband's will?"
"I get a third, the children get a third and the balance goes to a charity in the Bahamas."
"Did it occur to you that he may have decided to change his will after you got divorced?"
"Of course, Mr. Daley." Then she adds, gratuitously, "I don't need the money, you know."
"One last item. You said your investigator found your husband and Ms. Kennedy together in late December."
"That's correct."
"Where did that incident occur?"
"At a room in the tower of the Fairmont Hotel."
"I see. And how did your investigator find out about it?"
"He was viewing the room from a building across the street."
"Did your investigator positively identify Diana Kennedy in the room with your husband?"
"He told me he thought it was Diana. He said the woman looked like Diana."
"But he wasn't sure."
"He was sure it wasn't me."
"I understand. But isn't it true, Mrs. Holmes, that he wasn't able to positively identify the woman in the room with Mr. Holmes that night?"
"That may be true."
"And it's possible that it wasn't Ms. Kennedy."
"Yeah. It's possible. What difference does it make, Mr. Daley?"
Thanks, Beth. "I'm sorry to make you relive these difficult times, Mrs. Holmes," I say. She's given me what I need. "No further questions."
38
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN A PRACTICING THERAPIST?"
"KTLK's very own Dr. Kathy Chandler will be testifying today at the murder trial of Joel Mark Friedman. Dr. Kathy Chandler will be able to tell you all about it in her regular time slot at seven tonight."
—KTLK TALK RADIO. THURSDAY, MARCH 26. 11:45 A-M-
We're standing just outside the courtroom at one o'clock when Dr. Kathy Chandler and her entourage arrive. She has just finished an impromptu press conference in the corridor. She is surrounded by cameras and microphones as she and her handlers inch their way down the hall. She towers over most of the reporters. Her long blond hair flows. She stops and faces the assembled media horde. She brushes her hand against her hair and flashes the smile that graces Muni buses all over town.
"Dr. Chandler, what are you going to talk about today?" "Dr. Chandler, do you think Robert Holmes killed himself?" "Dr. Chandler, was Mr. Holmes having an affair with Diana Kennedy?" "Dr. Chandler? Dr. Chandler? Dr. Chandler?"
"I'm sorry, fellows," she purrs. "I don't want to be late for court. I don't want the judge to get mad at me." Big smile. "I'll talk to you again after I'm done." She walks into the courtroom.
Skipper walks Dr. Kathy Chandler through her credentials, such as they are. I interrupt frequently. After the ordeal is concluded, Skipper says, "How long did you know Robert Holmes?"
She smiles. "I began treating him in September. I was his therapist for about three months."
"And what were you treating him for, Doctor?"
"You know," she coos, "I usually don't talk about my patients’ problems." She bats her eyes.
Skipper smiles like Robert Young in Father Knows Best. "I know. But your testimony is very important. If you're uncomfortable answering a question, let me know, and we'll talk it over with Judge Chen."
Who will be more than happy to lock you up for contempt. Then you'll have the honor of being the first person to initiate a radio broadcast from the new jail at the Hall. Judge Chen looks at Dr. Kathy. "Doctor," she says sternly, "let me simplify this for you. If there's a question I think you shouldn't have to answer, I'll tell you so. For now, unless I instruct you otherwise, I expect you to answer Mr. Gates's questions. Are we clear on that?"
The kitten disappears. "Yes, Your Honor," she replies in a businesslike tone.
"Good." Judge Chen nods to Skipper. "Please continue, Mr. Gates."
"Dr. Chandler, why did Mr. Holmes first come to see you?"
"He was having relationship problems."
"What kind of relationship problems?"
I'd give everything I own to hear her say, "He wa
s having trouble keeping his zipper zipped."
"With his wife. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were very angry."
"Why were they angry with each other?"
"They were angry because Mr. Holmes was seeing another woman."
"Oh dear," Skipper says quietly. "Do you know who the woman was?"
She exhales loudly. "Diana Kennedy."
"Doctor, was Mr. Holmes still seeing Ms. Kennedy at the time they were murdered?"
"Objection. Move to strike the use of the term ‘murdered.’ "
"Sustained." The judge glares at Skipper. "The jury will disregard the term ‘murdered.’ Try it again, Mr. Gates."
"Do you know if Mr. Holmes was seeing Ms. Kennedy on December thirtieth of last year?"
"I don't think so. He was pretty sure Mrs. Holmes was going to serve him with divorce papers. He broke up with Ms. Kennedy. He said he was seeing somebody new toward the end of last year. He was very uncomfortable talking about it."
I lean over to Joel and whisper, "Know anything about this?"
He shakes his head.
Skipper's thinking the same thing when he asks, "Did he mention the name of the woman?"
"No. It may have been Ms. Kennedy. It may have been somebody else. And, to be honest, he may have been making the whole thing up. Sometimes, you couldn't tell with Mr. Holmes."
Skipper nods understandingly. "Doctor," he says, "based upon your observations of Mr. Holmes in the final weeks of his life, did he appear distraught to you?"
"Objection. State of mind."
"She was his therapist," Skipper says. "I'm asking for her professional observations."
Judge Chen scowls. "I'll allow the witness to answer."
"No," she replies. "He didn't appear distraught. In fact, he appeared relaxed the last few times I saw him. I think he was relieved that he'd resolved his issues with Mrs. Holmes."
Oh, bullshit.
Skipper moves closer to Dr. Kathy. "Did he appear emotionally disturbed?"
"Good heavens, no."
"Depressed?"
"No."
"Unhappy?"
"No."
Enough. "Objection. We can spend all afternoon trying to identify every range of emotion not exhibited by Mr. Holmes."
"Sustained. Let's move on, Mr. Gates."
He doesn't flinch. "One final question. Did he appear at any time to you to be suicidal?"
"Absolutely not," she purrs. She smiles demurely at the jury.
"No further questions."
"Dr. Chandler," I begin, "I'd like to ask you a few more questions about your credentials. You got your degree from Southwestern Texas City College, right?"
"Yes."
"Is that an accredited school?"
"It depends on what you mean by the term ‘accredited.’ "
"I mean it in the conventional sense. You know—schools like Stanford, Cal, UCLA—they're accredited. Was Southwestern Texas City College accredited?"
"Not exactly."
"And your doctorate in family counseling is from the same institution, right?"
"That's correct."
"Did you actually attend classes there?"
She pauses. "Yes."
"But most of the courses were offered by correspondence, weren't they?"
"Yes," she acknowledges.
She probably could have gotten any title she wanted if she paid them enough money. "And you got a master's from the Great Pacific School of Broadcasting?"
"Yes."
"Not exactly Harvard and Yale, are they, Doctor?"
"Objection. Argumentative."
"Sustained."
I shift direction. "Dr. Chandler, how long have you been a practicing therapist?"
"Seventeen years."
"I see. And how many years have you been doing your radio show?"
"Fourteen years."
"And you've got one of the top-rated programs in your time slot, don't you?"
She smiles proudly. "Yes, I do. It takes a lot of people to make the program a success."
I interrupt her. "I'm sure that's true. I'll bet your radio show takes up a lot of your time, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does. It's a very demanding job."
"How many hours are you on the air every day?"
"Three. From seven o'clock until ten."
"You must have a very busy schedule."
Skipper stands. "Your Honor, I fail to see the relevance of all this."
"Mr. Daley," says Judge Chen, "get to the point."
"I will, Your Honor." I turn back to the good doctor. "Do you handle a full caseload?"
"Yes. I wouldn't be comfortable giving advice over the radio if I didn't maintain a private practice."
"I see. And how many patients do you see in a typical day?"
"Two or three."
"That's all?"
"Yes."
"That's what you consider a full practice? That's ten or fifteen patients a week. If each of them gets an hour of your time, that's only one or two days’ work."
"As I said, Mr. Daley, my radio show takes a lot of time."
"And you also write self-help books, don't you, Doctor?"
"Yes."
"Does that take much time?"
She smiles. "Well, my publisher gives me a lot of help with those."
"Somebody helps you write your self-help books?"
"Yes."
She fails to see the irony. "Is it fair to say that you spend a lot less time seeing patients than most of your colleagues?"
She sits up. "Most of them don't have a radio show."
I look at Rosie. She shakes her head almost imperceptibly. I'm having a great time tweaking Dr. Kathy Chandler. Unfortunately, the jury doesn't seem to care. "Doctor," I say, "have you ever had a personal relationship with one of your patients?"
The facade disappears. Her eyes bore in on mine. "No," she says. "That would be unethical."
"Doctor," I say, "isn't it a fact that your license was suspended several years ago because you had a sexual relationship with one of your patients?"
The claws come out. She answers slowly. "It is true that my license was suspended. It is not true, however, that I had a sexual relationship with one of my patients. A very sad and lonely man made some wild accusations. They were never proven."
"You arrived at a settlement with the patient, didn't you, Dr. Chandler?"
"That's confidential."
I turn to Judge Chen. "Your Honor, I must ask you to instruct the witness to answer."
Judge Chen nods. "Answer the question, Dr. Chandler."
She strokes her bangs. "We settled the matter out of court." She glares at me. "Any other questions, Mr. Daley?"
"Your Honor," I say, "would you please remind the witness that the attorneys are supposed to ask the questions?"
Judge Chen looks at Dr. Kathy. "Mr. Daley is correct, Dr. Chandler." She turns back to me. "So, Mr. Daley, any other questions for Dr. Chandler?"
"Yes." I look straight at Dr. Kathy. "Isn't it true that your ex-husband was one of your patients?"
Her tiny nose twitches. "Yes," she hisses. "He was one of my patients."
"So it wasn't exactly true when you said you've never had a personal relationship with a patient."
She's angry. "He was no longer a patient when we began our personal relationship."
Of course. I allow myself a brief smile. "Just one more question, Doctor." I look at the jury, then I turn back to her. "Were you having an affair with Robert Holmes, Dr. Chandler?"
Skipper screams his objection before he can pull himself to his feet. "Your Honor," he says, "this is utterly irrelevant and insulting to Dr. Chandler."
"Your Honor," I say, "we believe Dr. Chandler was having a sexual relationship with Mr. Holmes. It would clearly color her credibility. I would ask you to instruct her to answer."
Judge Chen studies her bench book. She bites her lower lip. "Dr. Chandler," she says, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to respond."
"Th
e answer is no. I was not having an affair with Mr. Holmes."
I decide to go for broke. "Dr. Chandler, we have evidence you and Mr. Holmes were having a sexual relationship in a room at the Fairmont in December of last year. Do you deny it?"
"Objection. There's no foundation for any of this."
"Your Honor, we're prepared to bring forth the private investigator hired by Mrs. Holmes. It would save us an extraordinary amount of time if Dr. Chandler simply answers my question."
Judge Chen turns to Dr. Kathy. "I'm going to ask you to answer, Dr. Chandler."
Her eyes are on fire. "No, Mr. Daley," she says evenly. "I wasn't with Mr. Holmes."
"No further questions."
"What was that all about?" Joel's father is incredulous as we sit in the consultation room during the afternoon recess. "How does it help to attack Bob's widow? How does it help to attack his therapist? What were you thinking?"
"Rabbi," I say, "they put those two witnesses on the stand to demonstrate that Bob was a happy guy who didn't kill himself. They're undercutting our suicide argument. And they're doing a good job of it. That's why we have to go after them. We have to show that Beth Holmes is lying to protect her husband's reputation. And we have to show that Dr. Kathy Chandler is nothing more than a bubblegum-spewing radio jockey. That's what this is all about. And if you don't like the way I'm trying the case, you can get Joel another lawyer."
Mort interjects, "Everybody. Shut up. Right now. We don't have time for this. We have to keep our eye on the ball here. Maybe it wasn't the greatest cross in the history of the legal profession. But we have to keep at it. They put on witnesses for a purpose—to put together enough of a case to get a conviction. We're here to get in the way of that. We can't stop now because we're afraid we're going to hurt somebody's feelings."
Rosie holds up her hand. "Could you please be quiet for a moment," she says in a measured tone. "We aren't going to be able to deliver a knockout punch on every witness. We have to stay focused."
Joel stands up. "May I say something here? Seeing as how it's my ass on the line, I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your petty squabbles to yourselves. If you guys fuck up, I'm going to jail. So I don't want to hear anything else about who's doing a good job or a bad job on cross-exam. I don't want to hear you argue about strategy. I'm not interested in blaming anybody. We've just wasted prep time so you all could yell at each other. Now, I don't want to see this again. Let's get our heads screwed back on and get back in there and do our jobs."
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