Probably too long, I decided. I wasn’t writing anymore and still I needed an editor. That was pretty sad when you stopped to think about it.
‘Perhaps at some point we’ll see that they do get the story,’ Storrow said in a musing tone. I realized that this was a man I could grow attached to, at least in my present angry mood. He grew brisker. ‘Who’m I representing here, Mr. Noonan? You or the young lady? I vote for the young lady.’
‘The young lady doesn’t even know I’ve called you. She may think I’ve taken a bit too much on myself. She may, in fact, give me the rough side of her tongue.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because she’s a Yankee — a Maine Yankee, the worst kind. On a given day, they can make the Irish look logical.’
‘Perhaps, but she’s the one with the target pinned to her shirt. I suggest that you call and tell her that.’
I promised I would. It wasn’t a hard promise to make, either. I’d known I’d have to be in touch with her ever since I had accepted the summons from Deputy Footman. ‘And who stands for Michael Noonan come Friday morning?’
Storrow laughed dryly. ‘I’ll find someone local to do that. He’ll go into this Durgin’s office with you, sit quietly with his briefcase on his lap, and listen. I may be in town by that point — I won’t know until I talk to Ms. Devore — but I won’t be in Durgin’s office. When the custody hearing comes around, though, you’ll see my face in the place.’
‘All right, good. Call me with the name of my new lawyer. My other new lawyer.’
‘Uh-huh. In the meantime, talk to the young lady. Get me a job.’
‘I’ll try.’
‘Also try to stay visible if you’re with her,’ he said. ‘If we give the bad guys room to get nasty, they’ll get nasty.
There’s nothing like that between you, is there? Nothing nasty? Sorry to have to ask, but I do have to ask.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s been quite some time since I’ve been up to anything nasty with anyone.’
‘I’m tempted to commiserate, Mr. Noonan, but under the circumstances — ‘
‘Mike. Make it Mike.’
‘Good. I like that. And I’m John. People are going to talk about your involvement anyway. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Sure. People know I can afford you. They’ll speculate about how she can afford me. Pretty young widow, middle-aged widower. Sex would seem the most likely.’
‘You’re a realist.’
‘I don’t really think I am, but I know a hawk from a handsaw.’
‘I hope you do, because the ride could get rough. This is an extremely rich man we’re going up against.’ Yet he didn’t sound scared. He sounded almost . . . greedy. He sounded the way part of me had felt when I saw that the magnets on the fridge were back in a circle.
‘I know he is.’
‘In court that won’t matter a whole helluva lot, because there’s a certain amount of money on the other side. Also, the judge is going to be very aware that this one is a powderkeg. That can be useful.’
‘What’s the best thing we’ve got going for us?’ I asked this thinking of Kyra’s rosy, unmarked face and her complete lack of fear in the presence of her mother. I asked it thinking John would reply that the charges were clearly unfounded. I thought wrong.
‘The best thing? Devore’s age. He’s got to be older than God.’
‘Based on what I’ve heard over the weekend, I think he must be eighty-five. That would make God older.’
‘Yeah, but as a potential dad he makes Tony Randall look like a teenager,’ John said, and now he sounded positively gloating. ‘Think of it, Michael — the kid graduates from high school the year Gramps turns one hundred. Also there’s a chance the old man’s overreached himself. Do you know what a guardian ad litem is?’
‘No.’
‘Essentially it’s a lawyer the court appoints to protect the interests of the child. A fee for the service comes out of court costs, but it’s a pittance. Most people who agree to serve as guardian ad litem have strictly altruistic motives . . . but not all of them. In any case, the ad litem puts his own spin on the case. Judges don’t have to take the guy’s advice, but they almost always do. It makes a
judge look stupid to reject the advice of his own appointee, and the thing a judge hates above all others is looking stupid.’
‘Devore will have his own lawyer?’
John laughed. ‘How about half a dozen at the actual custody hearing?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘The guy is eighty-five. That’s too old for Ferraris, too old for bungee jumping in Tibet, and too old for whores unless he’s a mighty man. What does that leave for him to spend his money on?’
‘Lawyers,’ I said bleakly.
‘Yep.’
‘And Mattie Devore? What does she get?’
‘Thanks to you, she gets me,’ John Storrow said. ‘It’s like a John Grisham novel, isn’t it? Pure gold. Meantime, I’m interested in Durgin, the ad litem. If Devore hasn’t been expecting any real trouble, he may have been unwise enough to put temptation in Durgin’s way. And Durgin may have been stupid enough to succumb. Hey, who knows what we might find?’
But I was a turn back. ‘She gets you,’ I said. ‘Thanks to me. And if I wasn’t here to stick in my oar? What would she get then?’
‘ Bubkes. That’s Yiddish. It means — ‘
‘I know what it means,’ I said. ‘That’s incredible.’
‘Nope, just American justice. You know the lady with the scales? The one who stands outside most city courthouses?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Slap some handcuffs on that broad’s wrists and some tape over her mouth to go along with the blindfold, rape her and roll her in the mud. You like that image? I don’t, but it’s a fair representation of how the law works in custody cases where the plaintiff is rich and the defendant is poor. And sexual equality has actually made it worse, because while mothers still tend to be poor, they are no longer seen as the automatic choice for custody.’
‘Mattie Devore’s got to have you, doesn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ John said simply. ‘Call me tomorrow and tell me that she will.’
‘I hope I can do that.’
‘So do I. And listen — there’s one more thing.’
‘What?’
‘You lied to Devore on the telephone.’
‘Bullshit!’
‘Nope, nope, I hate to contradict my sister’s favorite author, but you did and you know it. You told Devore that mother and child were out together, the kid was picking flowers, everything was fine. You put everything in there except Bambi and Thumper.’
I was sitting up straight in my deck-chair now. I felt sandbagged. I also felt that my own cleverness had been overlooked. ‘Hey, no, think again. I never came out and said anything. I told him I assumed. I used the word more than once. I remember that very clearly.’
‘Uh-huh, and if he was taping your conversation, you’ll get a chance to actually count how many times you used it.’
At first I didn’t answer. I was thinking back to the conversation I’d had with him, remembering the underhum on the phone line, the characteristic underhum I remembered from all my previous summers at Sara Laughs. Had that steady low mmmmm been even more noticeable on Saturday night? ‘I guess maybe there could be a tape,’ I said reluctantly.
‘Uh-huh. And if Devore’s lawyer gets it to the ad litem, how do you think you’ll sound?’
‘Careful,’ I said. ‘Maybe like a man with something to hide.’
‘Or a man spinning yarns. And you’re good at that, aren’t you? After all, it’s what you do for a living. At the custody hearing, Devore’s lawyer is apt to mention that. If he then produces one of the people who passed you shortly after Mattie arrived on the scene . . . a person who testifies that the young lady seemed upset and flustered . . . how do you think you’ll sound then?’
‘Like a liar,’ I said, and then: ‘Ah, fuck.’
‘Fear not, Mike. Be of good cheer.’
‘What should I do?’
‘Spike their guns before they can fire them. Tell Durgin exactly what happened. Get it in the depo. Emphasize the fact that the little girl thought she was walking safely. Make sure you get in that ‘crossmock’ thing. I love that.’
‘Then if they have a tape they’ll play it and I’ll look like a story-changing schmuck.’
‘I don’t think so. You weren’t a sworn witness when you talked to Devore, were you? There you were, sitting out on your deck and minding your own business, watching the fireworks show. Out of the blue this grouchy old asshole calls you. Starts ranting. Didn’t even give him your number, did you?’