Glass House (31 page)

“They’ll do it at the trial, too, unless we
present a good argument to keep them out.”

“And you will.”

“And I’ll try,” Megan corrected.
“
Will
and
try
are two completely different
standards.”

“What do you need for that argument?”

“You testified you didn’t give Lora the
necklace that was in the picture McCallum showed you at the
deposition.”

“I did say that.”

“Without even looking at the picture, you
said you didn’t give it to her.”

“If you say so.”

“Was that testimony true?”

The desk chair Waldoch was in spun slightly
as he shifted. A few inches left, then a few inches back to the
right. He straightened in his seat.

“You and I tilled this ground before,
remember?” he asked.

“Is the testimony true?”

“Yes. It’s true.”

“Is there anyone out there who’s going to be
able to show it’s not?”

She was thinking about Lora Alexander’s
mother again, in her tidy house full of warm blankets and cool
glass and overly idyllic memories of her dead daughter, then
standing on her porch and passing over a picture of diamonds, and
Megan already knew the answer to her question to Waldoch was
yes
, there was someone out there who’d be able to address
exactly the issue of whether he was lying when he said he never
gave gifts to Lora. Waiting for Waldoch’s response, Megan checked
off one person she’d see in a courtroom seat, mentally filling that
position with the unsurprising face of Claire Alexander.

“I don’t think anyone can testify
otherwise,” Waldoch said.

“No one?” Megan said automatically. She was
looking toward the window and the empty backyard again, seeing
Claire walking up to the witness stand –

“No one,” Waldoch replied.

– and taking the oath –

“No one at all?”

– and swearing that the testimony she was
about to give was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the
truth.

“I didn’t give –”

Megan cut him off. “And Kathy…?” There was
some question at the end of that, something in the tone of the
words as she said them that suggested she wanted to know something,
but Megan herself wasn’t sure what it was so she left it
open-ended.

“I admitted giving gifts to Kathy Landry,”
Waldoch said.

“You did,” Megan replied, nodding. She was
asking about Landry, but she was thinking about Lora Alexander and
the arguments she’d have to make to try to keep Lora’s ghost out of
the courtroom and her grieving mother off the stand. Megan was
thinking about those things, and she was already realizing that
anyone making that argument would lose.

The babble she’d spat out to Samuel Chilcott
wasn’t far from the truth – someone could argue that Waldoch
had a history with women. That he would chase them and have
relationships with them. Would give them jewelry. Would dump them
and collect that jewelry back. Or have someone collect it for him.
With a little convincing
.

Megan lined the pieces up in her head.
Waldoch admitted he purchased Kathy Landry’s earrings, and she
thought Paul McCallum would be able to prove Waldoch purchased
Lora’s necklace, too. If Claire Alexander had helped him for the
deposition, as she said she did, she’d certainly be available to
testify at trial. In fact, she’d fight to be there to tell her
daughter’s story.

And beyond that?

Beyond that was the reclaiming of the
jewelry. Waldoch denied he took Landry’s earrings back. He did it
in the deposition, and he’d deny it here if Megan asked him. And
there was only one way for McCallum to prove that testimony like
that was a lie.

Samuel Chilcott.

Chilcott was the link who could prove
Waldoch’s purchase of Alexander’s necklace, and its collection. And
Megan was betting he could do the same for Landry.

McCallum’s questions about Chilcott taking
Landry’s earrings back had been speculation, she realized. He
didn’t have any proof of who did that exactly, probably couldn’t
have it in fact, but he’d turned up Chilcott’s name anyway. Digging
through the cases, going back to Lora Alexander and her mother,
piecing together patterns and running checks, McCallum came across
Chilcott’s name, and he threw it out to Waldoch in the deposition,
as a flyer that just might pay off.

Which meant Chilcott would be called to
testify, too, of course. His name was on McCallum’s witness list,
and that wasn’t a surprise given the questions at the deposition,
but Megan was suddenly certain that Samuel Chilcott would have a
subpoena that forced him to relocate from his shitty easy chair to
the courtroom downtown, where he’d be answering questions from Paul
McCallum about Waldoch, gifts, and whatever “convincing” he did to
get some things back.

All of which meant one thing: Jeremy Waldoch
was about to go to trial for far more than just Kathy Landry, and
no motion to keep evidence out was going to stop it. People
actually testifying about Waldoch’s history of girls and gifts
would suggest Landry was telling the truth when she reported things
just like it had happened to her, and nothing would keep that
down.

“I’m going into court in a day and a half,”
Megan said. “You’ll be right by my side, a lot of people will be
asking a lot of questions about Kathy Landry, and I don’t want
things popping up that I’m not ready for.”

“Things like what?”

“Things like Lora Alexander.”

Waldoch was silent at first. The only thing
that came from him was an irritated sigh. The chair turned slightly
left, then right once more.

“Tilled ground,” he said again.

“She’s dead, Jeremy.”

“I hadn’t heard.” His voice was level and
completely devoid of surprise. “That’s terrible news. But all the
better in the end for us, I suppose.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Megan echoed, studying
him.

“This is about Kathy Landry,” he went on.
“And we’ve discussed that.”

“You said you didn’t have sex with her.”

“I did say that.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me. Remember?
It’s not your job.”

“You gave Kathy earrings that cost seventeen
thousand dollars, and you admit that, but you say you didn’t have
sex with her?”

“That is what I’ve said.” Waldoch was
aggravated, his impatience showing.

“That seventeen thousand dollars in jewelry
either makes you the world’s biggest liar, or its biggest
fool.”

“That may be true.” Waldoch said it without
hesitation, his words serious. “It just might be. But no piece of
ass has gotten me yet, and no piece of ass is going to get me
now.”

Megan was instantly more attentive at
Waldoch’s statement. “Piece of ass?”

Waldoch shook his head in exasperation. “I
apologize,” he said. “I get …
angry
, I guess … at
what’s being said about me. I think I’m generous with people, more
than I should be I’m sure, and when things come back at me like
they have in this case, I say things I shouldn’t.”

“That’s clear,” Megan responded softly.

“It won’t happen at trial.”

“And that remains to be seen.”

“It won’t happen.”

“You should settle this case,” Megan told
him.

Waldoch’s reaction to the questions –
his reactions and this office – clarified anything that had
remained gray for her. The line was obvious to her now, the path
straight and not crooked, open and not obstructed. She saw, in that
instant, what she expected to do.

“I won’t settle,” he replied.

“If you don’t, this is the way it’s going to
play out,” Megan told him. “Kathy Landry is going to hit that stand
off the start, and she’s going to talk about all the things you’ve
ever said to her, all the nasty or naughty or crude or charming
things you’ve ever uttered. Then she’s going to talk about the
gifts you gave her, whatever they are. True or not, there’ll be a
list like that, and those seventeen-thousand-dollar earrings will
be right at the top of it.

“After that, she’ll get to the sex. I’ve
seen Paul McCallum try a case, Jeremy, and I know he’ll be careful
to act tactful and tasteful. He’ll suggest that,
gosh
, he
feels just as awkward as she does, and that no one in the room
really wants to hear any of it, but when it comes down to it? He’s
still going to ask all the questions about every place you two ever
went, and everything you ever did. Do you understand that?”

Waldoch didn’t reply.

“It doesn’t matter what you say at that
point, either,” Megan went on. “Again, right or wrong, true or not,
she’s sitting up there first. She’s telling this story, and you
know what? People are going to listen to her. Every person in that
room will hang on each word she says.”

“Which they’ll believe less when you
cross-examine her.”

“Maybe,” Megan said. “I could cross, and I’d
ask whatever questions I come up with, and she might look a little
the worse for wear because of it. But that won’t be the end,
because that’s when the news of Lora Alexander and whoever else
they’ve found starts to come in, because I doubt it will stay out.
Her death? Maybe no one hears about it. But the relationship? No,
we’ll see that all right. And all of the sudden it becomes
something that’s happened more than once. All of the sudden it
isn’t just Kathy Landry on the stand, it’s potentially other women,
too, and those women all just happen to be talking about how Jeremy
Waldoch bought them jewels, fucked them, left them, and took those
jewels back.

“So when you get your chance to tell your
side of the story, if we get that far, you could tell them the sky
was blue, the grass green, and the judge’s robes black, and they’re
not going to believe you if the testimony has built a story like
that, unless we can find a way to
make
them believe you. But
that certainly doesn’t include spreading around bullshit terms like
piece of ass
. Is that one clear enough?”

“I said it wouldn’t happen.”

“You’re right it won’t happen. Because you
should settle this case.”

“I fired one lawyer for telling me to
settle.”

“And you lost faith in her because of that,
isn’t that what you said?”

“That’s what I said, and it’s the truth as
well.”

“That lawyer was right and you were wrong,”
Megan told him, but any push she had in her was gone.

“Utmost faith, Megan,” Waldoch said. He was
staring out the window himself now. “The day the Emperor
Constantine was fighting for control of Rome, he saw a cross in the
sky. He put the symbol on his men’s shields, and they went on to
victory at Milvian Bridge, beating an army that some say was ten
times their number. They had faith, and they fought with it.”

“Despite the faith you say you have, I’m not
Constantine,” Megan said, her voice full of skepticism this time.
“And God just might not be on your side.”

“We’ll go forward, and you’ll get me through
to the end.” Waldoch’s voice was more confident.

“That’s my job, to get you to the end?”
Megan said. “Fair enough.”

Polishing

Rupert

“The matter with Saifee is finished.”

“Is this secure?”

In all the time Rupert worked for this man,
the first comment that came back in any call was that one. It made
sense, he supposed. Working the way they did, they had to make sure
they were as protected as possible. But he did tire of it.

“It’s secure.”

Rupert knew his place. He was along for the
ride and whatever benefits might come his way. Those had been
plentiful, with few signs of stopping, so he kept his mouth shut of
complaints or comments and focused on the questions that mattered.
“What’s your choice on what’s next? Have you decided yet?”

The waits in the call were overlong –
encryption at both ends, and re-dialers and re-routers at all
points in between. A statement was followed by five or ten seconds
of silence as the words crossed the world, were heard, and were
responded to.

“Your position was compelling, Peter. As
usual, you argued it well, and I’ve decided to agree with you. You
can proceed the way we discussed.”

Rupert smiled when he heard that. The caller
was a decisive man, prone to making choices with an authority that
made them irrevocable. He didn’t revisit issues after passing on
them, which made the upfront work that much harder and more
important. Rupert would either convince him at the beginning of an
issue or never convince him at all. So this decision was all the
more gratifying.

“So the Dutch it is?” Rupert asked, sucking
on a cigarette and blowing smoke.

“You’re convinced by the assays? The pinks
and reds run toward the Dutch?”

“Without a doubt,” Rupert responded. “None
at all.”

“The Dutch then. Both mines. Not just
one.”

“As planned?”

The break was longer this time. He was
considering it, thinking it through.

“Accelerate the purchase,” he replied. “I
want the offer immediately, the right motivation after that, and an
authoritative push within twenty-four hours, if needed. I don’t
want them to have time to evaluate beyond that.”

“That could mean being generous.”

“But Peter, what are friends for in times of
crisis?”

“Generosity!” Rupert hung the phone up, then
lifted it immediately once more. He had a call for Krelis
Hoopmans.

_______________

In a way, the Dutch Consortium mines were
back-formed. They existed, then they didn’t, and then, when no one
really wanted them, they suddenly existed again.

River-borne, alluvial diamonds were
discovered in South Africa in 1866, when, on a farm that sat fast
against the Orange River in the Cape Colony, a fifteen-year-old boy
picked up a clear stone. It was the Eureka diamond.