Character Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  ''The men who came to my house wore suits, I know that,'' Sarah offered.

  ''Yeah, so that means we've gotta concentrate on the suits. And we know they're big guys. . .'' Louise offered.

  ''And we're especially going to watch out for Jules Porter. If Lionel was giving him a bad time then we should find out if he's doing anything weird outside the office that might have affected what was going on inside.'' That was Sarah talking and they all had to lean close to listen.

  ''And does Michael know what you're doing?'' Kathleen missed all this. She laughed, grateful that they hadn't forgotten her. At O'Doul & Associates there were people to talk to, problems to solve and listening to these two made Kathleen wish for the good old days. At Shay, Sylvester & Harrington there were emissions report to sift through. Forms to fill out. Associates so concerned with their own status on the partnership track they were afraid to talk to Kathleen much less befriend her.

  ''Not to worry, Kathleen, if these ladies get in trouble I'll defend them with my last breath.'' Gerry grinned at all of them with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Kathleen saw it and answered his sympathy with a simulated smile of her own. ''But I'm afraid we all have things we must do. Kathleen, we wouldn't want to keep you from your work. So important, those billing hours. I'm glad I'm old and infirmed,'' he said with a commiserating wink. ''Sure, I couldn't keep track of such mathematics anymore. Shall we, ladies?''

  Chairs went back, napkins were put on the table, skirts were smoothed and little things said all around as they trooped out of Maple Drive, onto the street and across it to Shay, Sylvester & Harrington. Louise and Sarah left them in the lobby of the building.

  ''We're going to take off, Gerry.'' Louise leaned into him for a kiss on her cheek. He kissed the air instead and patted her shoulder - if indeed there was a shoulder under the incredible pads in her jacket. She looked a bit like a packing box. Satisfied, she did the same to Kathleen. ''We want to get down to Tysco and stake out before the four o'clock shift leaves. We'll pop in and see Michael, too. Anybody have any messages for him?''

  Sarah and Louise looked at Kathleen. Gerry answered.

  ''Ask him if he'd mind postponing dinner this evening. Tell him I'll call him tomorrow.''

  ''Okay, Mr. O'Doul.'' Sarah stuck out her hand. He shook it gently, bowing over it slightly.

  ''You were going to have dinner with Michael?'' Kathleen asked, trying to sound casual as they headed to her office.

  ''He says he asked you, but you pleaded work. I was second choice, don't you know.''

  The elevator called for them. Kathleen went in. It was late. She'd have to make up the extra hour that evening. She was all alone. Then Gerry joined her.

  ''You don't have to come up, Uncle Gerry.''

  ''Nonsense. I've been so patient waiting for an invitation to see your new place of business, but I've not had one. So now I'm now taking matters into my own hands. I'll just pop in and say hello to Richard while I'm here.''

  Kathleen punched the number sixteen. The elevator shot up. Her stomach fell to the floor.

  ''He's awfully busy, Gerry. I don't know that you should just walk in on him. There's a definite protocol in this place.''

  ''Yes, yes, I know.'' Gerry patted her arm, his tone filled with a lifetime of experience that told her there weren't many places you couldn't go if you acted like you belonged there. ''But it's really not as daunting as it seems, Kathleen. I promise you it isn't.'' Gerry O'Doul stopped the elevator. He pressed a little button that had a warning to press only in the case of emergency. Kathleen's mouth dropped. He had pushed it as if he were ringing a doorbell. This wasn't a little three story building on South Beverly. This was a towering high-rise in the heart of Beverly Hills. This wasn't the place for a heart-to-heart, but Gerry didn't seem to think the rules applied to him. She supposed he never did.

  ''Kathleen, these are just people. They are a little scared like you, a little daunted by the fact they are working on problems that affect the country, not just a widow who lives in a canyon with her rabbits. It's all right to be nervous as long as you're doing your best. But, Kathleen, if you're unhappy here, that's another matter. Don't be afraid to stay and work like the dickens, but don't be afraid to leave either. It wouldn't be a failure, it would be a choice. Choose the kind of life you want, and if it's not the kind Richard leads, then my door is open or I will help you find the right door.''

  Kathleen met his gaze head on and was proud of that. She was touched by what he said, but more than that she was embarrassed by her own idiocy and that she would never admit. Besides, he didn't need her. Nor did Louise or Sarah. They had everything under control.

  ''Thank you, Gerry, but I think it's all going to work out fine here. I've just got to remember things take a little longer in a place like this. Mr. Jacobsen wouldn't have offered me the job if he didn't think I had what it took.''

  ''No,'' Gerry answered, ''No he wouldn't.''

  He pushed the button and they were off again. A moment later they were walking through the lobby where they had partied not so long ago. They went down the long halls, past secretaries and paralegals and big offices with windows that didn't open for a breath of fresh air. They passed an enormous library, a production office where reams of paper were printed and copied and stapled for court appearances, internal distribution and storage. They passed offices of junior partners and finally they came to Kathleen's where Gerry made noises of appreciation over her Mathis oil work and tried to ignore the closet-like dimensions of the place she called her own. Stacks of reports waited for her attention and there was a grid of some sort pulsating on her computer screen. When Gerry was finished with his admiring sounds, he kissed her cheek.

  ''I'll leave you to your work, Kathleen. Why don't you and Michael come for a drink Saturday?''

  ''I'll think about it. We're supposed to go to a movie, but the way I feel now all I want to do is sleep.''

  ''Life in the fast lane,'' Gerry chuckled. ''But I'm afraid that's no excuse to leave an old man on his own all weekend.'' Gerry stepped back, the smiling fading. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you. I'm sorry, Kathleen.''

  ''No offense taken,'' she said. ''I'd love to come. I'll try. I promise. I'll tell Michael to kidnap me if he has to.''

  Kathleen waved him out the door and sat back at her desk forgetting lunch, Michael, Sarah and Louise as she opened the first of many tomes on environmental testing. Only Gerry O'Doul stayed on her mind. It was nice to know the door was still open. Not that she'd ever do anything about it, but it was nice to know.

  Gerry was almost buried by the cushions of the low, deep chair in which he sat. He was so small that he seemed almost inconsequential. If Richard had his way, he would have been inconsequential. Instead, Gerry O'Doul was making himself all-too-important

  ''Richard, I don't want to create a problem for Kathleen. Sure, don't I know you won't hold it against her because her old uncle has come to check up. But there are things that just seem a bit unusual here, and I thought, being her only living relative, that it is my responsibility to keep an eye on her.''

  ''Of course, I completely understand your concern for your niece. What I don't understand is why her employment here would be the cause of that concern.''

  Richard bounced ever so slightly in his perfectly proportioned chair while his eyes remained fixed on the old man. Beneath the desk, out of Gerry's sight, he played with a pen. He pulled and pushed the top. He twirled it. He wanted Gerry O'Doul gone. Shay, Sylvester & Harrington did not function as O'Doul & Associates did. A slap on the back, a handshake. Absurdities in an era when business was the law and the law was business.

  Gerry leaned forward, escaping the suction of the overstuffed cushion with a great effort. He straightened his tie when he was finally in a position that allowed him to speak to Richard man to man.

  ''We'll be blunt, Richard. Kathleen is a smart girl. In the right circumstances she could even be brilliant. The jury returned more than the asking when she handl
ed Mrs. Poole, and look at what she did for my client in the Booker case. I believe we're going to settle that because of her innovative arguments. In fact, we're going to be doing more than that. Sure, don't I believe she even managed to put us on the track to prove that there had been some sort of foul play? Unfortunately, you took her away before we could have the benefit of her thinking.''

  Richard's lips tipped up. Had Gerry been looking closely he would have seen a glimmer of joy.

  ''Obviously I chose well. Shay, Sylvester & Harrington likes their associates to be innovative. Perhaps I overstepped the bounds of propriety by not asking for her professional hand first and that's what makes you uneasy.'' The sarcasm was evident. Gerry noted, then ignored, it.

  ''No, Richard. It's not about the way you did this. It's about why.'' He dug in his heels, not about to leave and that didn't make Richard happy. He glanced toward the door then back at his guest.

  ''I have a full calendar today, Gerry. Perhaps we could get to the point.''

  ''I've known you many years, and never have I known you to do anything that was not calculated for a return on your investment. Except, perhaps, for that rumored incident in Mexico. Scandals of a sexual nature were never what I would have expected from you, nor did I ever truly believe those rumors. That is why I don't imagine your interest in my niece is personal. But I must ask the question anyway, Richard. Did you hire her because you fancy Kathleen?''

  Gerry had never heard Richard Jacobsen laugh before. He imagined, given the volume and intensity of Richard's amusement, that there were quite a few people in the halls listening and shaking in their boots at the odd sound coming from this usually silent office.

  ''Oh my. Oh my, my, my.''

  Richard reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes. In a twinkle, Richard Jacobsen was back to his old, smooth self, his tiny hands clasped together, pink and soft looking. He held them out to Gerry as if to show he wasn't hiding a thing. Gerry couldn't look at them and think Kathleen's name at the same time. He found nothing amusing about any of this. The more Richard danced around his questions, the more uneasy Gerry O'Doul became.

  ''She is a very attractive young woman, but believe me, that's not what I found so intriguing about her, Gerry. Quite simply, we needed a bright, quick thinking associate and we needed her quickly.''

  ''Analyzing mathematical data truly takes a bright mind. A lesser one would be put to sleep.'' Gerry snapped. ''Although, in my day, a paralegal would possibly have been able to create the charts Kathleen is toiling so diligently to complete.''

  Richard ignored him. ''She is a hard worker and a quick study. We didn't want a paralegal. We wanted an attorney who might possible offer insight into courtroom arguments after the data has been analyzed. Money isn't your niece's motivating factor, thank goodness. Even you must see how unusual and desirable that is in a young attorney. We are top heavy with fiscally driven young people and a volatile team of egotists on the case to which she was assigned. I'm counting on her for many things, not the least of which is her attitude.''

  ''But why the urgency, Richard?'' Gerry pressed, wanting to lift his feet to allow for the flow of bull

  ''We had an opening. Those don't happen too often.'' Richard answered narrowly. ''She's working on a minute portion of a case that will probably never see the inside of a courtroom.'' Gerry sat comfortably in the big chair, his fingers tented and his eyes just as bright as always. He forced himself to mildness but didn't fool Richard at all. ''I smell a rat, Richard, one I think I should ferret out.''

  ''It would be a waste of your time.'' Richard answered with equal discretion. ''I admire you greatly, Gerry, and I would hate to see you waste precious time on something that is no mystery.''

  ''I've already wasted time where Kathleen was concerned. What little I have left I think I shall devote to making sure she is happy and content.''

  ''She's a woman who has made a career decision, and I would suggest you respect that. If you don't you might find yourself a bit lonelier than you are now and Kathleen might find herself on the street. I can't imagine she would look kindly on your meddling if it caused this firm to think twice about her employment.''

  They both thought about that great big horrible truth. It was a bald faced threat, but before he had time to explore all the angles to see what was hidden behind it the phone rang. Richard answered it, rudely dismissing Gerry with a gesture.

  Gerry gave a dignified nod to Richard Jacobsen, a man of dubious integrity whose back was now turned to him. Standing tall, Gerry turned on his heel and walked, shoulders back, to the vestibule just outside Richard's office.

  When he cleared the door he stepped aside and leaned against the wall knowing he couldn't face even a secretary until he composed himself. His heart hurt. He had failed Kathleen and this was her reward. This ridiculous situation where she would be used for God knew what reason, only to realize it too late. Five years from now when there was no partnership offering, when her resume read Shay, Sylvester & Harrington, Associate, Kathleen would be turned loose only fit to work for another Dorty & Breyer. It was his fault. Richard was paying him back for something and he was using Kathleen to do it. But what had been so awful in their history that he would have waited so long and ruined a young woman's career to prove the point?

  Richard's voice droned on behind him, clear and sure as always. Gerry's thoughts swung back and forth like a pendulum that sliced his good intentions in half, leaving them worth nothing as they lay. In this state, he planned a strategy knowing he was perhaps weakened by this encounter, but certainly not down for the count. It was through these thoughts that Richard's conversation floated and suddenly Gerry knew what he had to do and where he would find the answers.

  ''You heard?''

  Richard replaced the receiver and looked at the man who had come from his private bathroom and still held a towel in his hands.

  ''Every word.'' He pulled that towel through his hands and made it taut. ''I can't believe it. Richard, this is getting ridiculous. I don't know how you can sit there like it's nothing. I don't think he's going to give up. We've got to do something definitive now. These little stop gaps aren't working. These people are nuts.''

  ''I'll get on the phone to Bob Morton. He owes me a favor. It will be over once that Booker woman has her money. When that happens, the others will lose interest.''

  ''That's what you said the first time when you brought Cotter over here.''

  Richard stood up. He felt antsy. It was a feeling he seldom had and it never occurred because of nerves. There were other, more personal things that caused Richard Jacobsen to feel as if he might jump out of his skin. When one got older that's how things were. Business could always be taken care of. Yet standing here now, he felt that tingling in his groin, that sense that he better put a lid on the jar before all the fireflies were gone. Intellectually he knew this was ridiculous. These were truly minor matters, played out by bit players. All he had to do was change the script a little. He turned back to his companion and smiled.

  ''You do whatever you can on your end; I'll take care of it over here. We'll stop this nonsense once and for all. Together, the way we did before.''

  ''It's not nonsense, Richard, and it sure as hell isn't your butt if this comes down. It's mine.'' The man tossed the soiled towel on the couch. Richard winced. He didn't feel antsy any longer. ''I've got to get back to work.''

  Richard watched him walk across the plush carpet.

  ''Will I see you later? The man stopped, his back still turned to Richard who was more specific just in case he hadn't been heard. ''This evening, perhaps?''

  The man waited a beat and off he went without an answer. They were all guessing on this thing. Richard was not different. It was time he sweated a little, too.

  ''Gerry! What are you doing?''

  Carl Walsh was half way across his office, wondering what in the heck was happening in his outer office when Gerry O'Doul flew in from the other side. Carl's secretary wa
s hot on his heels.

  ''I can do what I damn well please because I pay my taxes, Carl Walsh. You're the mayor and I want answers. You're up to something, and I want to know what it has to do with my niece.''

  ''I don't know what you're talking about.''

  Carl scooted back a few steps, on his guard as he lied. Gerry could see it on his face. Carl Walsh did know. If he didn't, would he turn away? Why would he wave off his secretary? Why would he color with surprise and discomfort? Gerry pressed his advantage. Small and wiry, it was hard to believe he could move so quickly at his age. But move he did, right around the tall man so that Carl had no choice but to run and that would certainly prove Gerry's point. Carl seemed to know that too. He stayed where he was.

  ''Sure don't you know, Carl? You know what game Richard is playing. I heard him on the phone to you. 'Twas a mistake I heard since I didn't eavesdrop. I have more pride than that. I'm more of a man than both of you because I went directly to him and asked right out about Kathleen to his face. He wouldn't give me an answer and I was tired. I'd only lingered for a moment outside his office, but I heard him tell you everything was all right. That Kathleen was settled in, that he would be talking to Bob Morton. He said you weren't to worry. He said you wouldn't have to worry about Gerry or any of them anymore.''

  ''It wasn't me he was talking to,'' Carl turned left, ''an interoffice call.'' He danced right and made it around his desk.

  ''It didn't sound that way to me. Though I certainly could ask to see the employee records and find out how many Carl's are employed at that esteemed firm. I want to know what you're up to. Who are the folks you needn't worry about, Carl? What is it that Kathleen. . .''

  ''You're demented. I can't believe you'd do that. What a nut case.'' Carl cut him off. His face was blazing red, but Gerry was certain it wasn't with anger. It was shame and embarrassment and guilt that caused him to boil. But the man was good in front of a hostile crowd. He stared Gerry down and tried to turn the tables. ''Let me be straight with you, Gerry, you've been acting like a nut since that niece of yours came to town. You think you can use her to revive what little is left of your career, but you can't. A pretty face and a passable talent just won't do it. You can't flaunt her and expect all of us to be so impressed that you actually managed to bribe someone to work with you that we'll send business your way.''