Scott Turow - The Burden of Proof

He touched both her elbows as he came up behind her.

"Helen."

She reached around herself to hold his hands."

"I knew this was too soon. I should have let you get over all of it."

"Helen, please do not-" Overreact? "Helen, this is not' ' "Yes, it is," she said. "You're hooked." She looked back at him.

"Aren't you?"

He closed his eyes rather than respond.

She turned away and crashed her fist squarely in the middle of her nose.

She'wanted desperately not to cry.

"I'm really being miserable."

"Of course not," he said.

"You didn't make any promises." She eyed him. 'How young?"

He considered avoidance and gave up the thought. "Forty," he said.

"Forty-one." Pregnant. One-breasted. Married to someone else. And not interested in me. The utter madness of it, for a moment, almost drove him to the floor with shame.

Helen shrugged. "At least you're sane."

He nearly groaned.

Eventually, they returned to the table. He offered no details of this new interest-how could he?-and Helen courageously refused to ask. She told him that Maxine, after her day with Kate, had remarked on Kate's drawn look; she did not have the glow of some pregnant women. Hearing the remark, he thought at once of Sonny, then was pierced to see how quick he had been to skip beyond his concerns for his daughter.

As soon as he had his coffee, he went to the closet for his hat. At the door, he took Helen in his arms, and she held him for a moment.

"You're not going to mind if I tell you I don't want to see you, are you?" she asked. "Under the circumstances?"

"Of course not." He kissed her briefly and walked into the tender night air, toward his auto, full of the pangs of terrible regret. Truly now, he was losing his grip. He had given up the best part of his actual life to indulge a high-school fantasy. But through all this immediate anguish, his heart still rose. One tie that bound, now severed. There were a thousand others, but his intent was clear. He was going to surmount all obstacles, each of them. He felt as valiant as a knight.

He walked down the suburban avenue with a determined step, full of momentary pain, and the winging feel of freedom, of wild, improbable dreams.

MONDAY was a day of unexpected communications.

The first was awaiting Stern when he reached the office.

Dr. CawIcy had called, Claudia said, and needed to see him.

She had compared schedules and agreed to a meeting at five o'clock at Nate's office. "He said it was personal," said Claudia, "and that he didn't want to see you at home.

That's all."

Personal and not at home. Mano a rnano, in other words-away from Fiona.

Nate had tiptoed around Stern for months.

Now he wanted a meet? Stern sorted the possibilities. Had Fiona spoken up, as Stern suspected she would? Were Nate and he about to have a scene? Perhaps Nate was going to clear the air completely-hand Stern the check and declare a lasting peace. His sense of intrigue for once was greater than his anxiety.

Later in the morning, he also heard from Mel TooIcy. Stern was on the phone, attempting one last time to persuade AUSA Moses Appleton to soften his position on Remo, when Claudia laid down a note saying TooIcy was on hold.

Stern ended his conversation with Moses promptly. "None of this goes any further," Tooley said. "Of course."

"Sennett's sneaking around like some spook. He hears I talked, he'll go ballistic. You didn't get this here."

Stern once more assured Mel of his confidence. "My guy is going in the grfind jury next week."

"I see. May I ask the terms?"

"Immunity. Letters. Court orders. I got him everything.

It was a white sale at the U.S. Attorney's Office."

"And the prognosis for my client?"

"Bad."

"Very bad. There's a bunch of papers and tickets my guy wrote and your guy told him how to do it, every i, t, a,d comma."

"I see. And your client recalls this clearly?"

"Like a vision. My guy was new to the business, 'didn't know what was going on, so all this stood out." Mel waited.

"You know that song and dance."

Stern said nothing. John had done the predictable thing.

There was justice in this. Dixon, after all, deserved what he was going to get.

"He really feels like shit about this," Tley said. "You know, it's family stuff. Very messy. Well, I don't have to tell you."

"No," Stern agreed.

"I keep telling him ho's got to think 'Me first." He doesn't have a long way to wander on this thing. If he fucks around with them, they land on him with both feet."

Tooley meant that MD's records implicated John as well.

Whatever John's protests that all this had been over his head, the prosecutors knew that no one, no matter how naive, could have regarded this maneuvering as wholesome.

But wanting its case to be ironclad, the government preferred to have John's testimony, rather than a woebegone lower-down sharing the charge and defense table with Dixon.

This, too, was an entirely' predictable turn of events.

"He'll look like a whipped dog up there, if that does you any good." Mel was talking about John's trial testimony.

That would be another lawyer's problem, in any event.

"When does he appear before the grand jury, Mel?"

"A week from tomorrow. I don't think the indictment's far away.

They've got it all pretty well organized. I imagine they're going to D.C. for RICO approval right now."

"Yes," said Stern again. T-he racketeering charge, the one by which the government would divest Dixon of the business in which he'd invested a lifetime, required approval in Washington. Stern would have to request an audience at the Department of Justice.:The bureaucrats in D.C. would sometimes act with greater restraint than the U.S.

Attorney, although there were unlikely to be any soft hearts in this case.

TooIcy and he concluded with a vague promise to speak again. It was unlike Mel to be so forthcoming. Usually there was a hidden agenda, two or three of them, in fact.

Was it possible he was actually acting at Sennett's instruction?

Yes-but it would be hard to mislead Stern about the testimony of his daughter's husband. That probably accounted for Mel's candor, the fact that Stern would inevitably learn about this. Realizing that, TooIcy wanted credit for being the first with the news. Stern drummed his fingertips on his desk and picked up a cigar.

Of late, he had taken to twirling them between his fingers, unlit, never letting the ends touch his lips. Dixon was going to have to be made to think seriously about a guilty plea. In cases like this, the best that generally could be managed was to agree to a staggering financial penalty in hopes of sharply limiting the time in jail. Whatever was hidden in the islands, many of the visible assets here were in jeopardyrathe stone house, the chauffeured cars. Dixon would want to save what he could, for Silvia's sake.

Perhaps Stan would accept forfeiture of a discrete sum-millions-and Dixon's resignation from the business in lieu of all the stock.

In the meantime, Stern would have to call Kate-and John-take them to dinner as soon as the grand jury appearance was past. Dixon's wayward path had detoured the life of his family long enough. Stern wanted to be sure that his daughter, and even his son-in-law, knew that he was prepared to go on with this episode in the past. If Dixon decided to resist the government, Stern would help him search for another lawyer; the time was at hand. That, however, would not be a complete solution.

It was difficult to imagine a family gathering with Silvia, whose husband was in prison, occupying one corner and John, who sent him there, the other. Stern let a sound of some distress escape him. They would all remember this year.

Nate's nurse, who showed Stern back to the consultation room, seemed familiar-he had seen her timid smile and slender good looks somewhere before. Stern watched the young woman depart and spent an instant trying to place her, before Nate bade him sit in a gooseneck chair of maroon leather.