Brian Freemantle - The Namedropper

‘As I think I can,’ came in Reid.

‘I sure as hell hope you can,’ said Alyce. ‘You haven’t set out the law as specifically as that to me, either, until now.’

‘I think I have,’ said Reid.

‘I don’t,’ refused Alyce.

‘Appleton’s surely the guiltier party!’ said Jordan. He looked hesitantly at Alyce. ‘I’m sorry about this, talking as if you’re not here, but he has to be the person who gave Alyce chlamydia. And admits to two affairs.’

‘There were more, I’m sure,’ said Alyce. ‘All that time he spent by himself in Manhattan! He wasn’t by himself in bed.’

‘My first pre-trial submission is going to be a court order for Appleton to undergo a venereal examination,’ said Reid. ‘And our enquiry people are trying to find other women. The more we get the more Pullinger will come towards us.’

‘I’ve now undergone two medical examinations,’ said Jordan. ‘And I’ve been told by both specialists that it’s a curable infection. What if he’s had treatment: that there’s no trace of his ever having had it?’

‘I’m also going to apply for an order that his side produce his complete medical records, if they won’t do it voluntarily,’ said Reid. ‘And I’ve already asked Bartle for them to be volunteered.’

‘What about Sharon Borowski and Leanne Jefferies?’ demanded Beckwith.

Reid shifted in his seat at the insistence. ‘Sharon Borowski’s dead: killed in an auto smash eleven months ago; she no longer features. Leanne Jefferies is another commodity dealer, although not with Appleton’s firm. Works for Sears Rutlidge. Thirty, single. As far as our enquiry people can discover it really was a short relationship, as Appleton says it was. No indication of their still being together. But we’re issuing criminal conversation claims against her, of course, as soon as I get the name of her lawyer. That’s going to be another court application, as soon as I get a judge.’

‘The bank records are selective,’ Beckwith pointed out.

‘Already noted,’ said Reid, at once. ‘I’ve filed for consecutive statements.’

‘What about the money you gave him?’ Beckwith queried, looking at Alyce. ‘There must be a paper trail, from your statements?’

‘Withdrawn in cash, handed over to him in cash, in tranches of varying amounts, not a lump sum,’ said Alyce. ‘Like being repaid in Mercedes cars, he told me it was better taxably for it all to be done in cash.’

‘Didn’t it ever occur to you that you were being conned?’ asked Jordan, the expert.

‘Let me tell you about my husband,’ said Alyce, quiet-voiced, analytical. ‘When I married him I thought he loved me, which I don’t think he ever did, not at any time. It’s difficult now for me to believe that I loved him, but I think I did. He’s got a good act. I certainly trusted him, another mistake. It took me a while to recognize him as a manipulating bully. Realizing that he was a cheat – a cheat in every way – took even longer: long after he persuaded me to relinguish my position as chief executive of the parent Bellamy Foundation.. You want the analogy, it’s easy if you’ll allow the cliche. Alfred Jerome Appleton is a Jekyll and Hyde, everybody’s friend, everybody’s helper, the first with the biggest charity cheque, all for the big reputation and the big benefit it’ll bring him. Cross him and he’ll run right over you – squash you into the ground and enjoy doing it. But no one knows that, suspects it, even. And won’t believe that it’s possible for him ever to be like that, if we don’t get a closed court. It’ll be all my fault, all my lies. That’s why he’ll be happy with an open court. It’ll be a stage for him to perform on. That’s what he does, every day: performs, puts on an act to appear someone other than who he really is.’

Jordan stirred, in self-recognition. And had another thought, even more self-indulgent, as he heard Beckwith say, ‘No chance that Pullinger might know Appleton? Have had some social contact?’

‘What the hell…? demanded Jordan.

‘Prior knowledge or awareness would be grounds for disbarment,’ explained his lawyer.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Alyce. ‘In Boston – the entire state of Massachusetts – he probably knows every judge there is to know: every important person there is to know. But not down here.’

‘That’s something to bear in mind,’ insisted Beckwith. ‘What about you? Any chance your family’s come into contact with Pullinger? Same exclusion would apply.’

‘Not that I’m aware,’ said Alyce. ‘Today’s the first time I’ve heard the name. I could ask my mother: I’m living with her at the moment.’

‘What about Appleton’s claim, in his statement, that he provided financial support for your mother?’ asked Reid.

‘Total nonsense,’ rejected Alyce. ‘The Bellamy Foundation dwarfs the Appleton wealth ten times over. I think it was around that time, just after we got back from Hawaii, that I told him of my trust inheritance.’

‘He didn’t know you were an heiress before you got married?’ asked Beckwith, seemingly surprised.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Alyce. ‘It was something that never came up.’

‘And when it did he asked you to lend him $500,000 to help start his commodity business?’ pressed Reid.

‘It wasn’t like that, a flat demand for a half million,’ qualified Alyce. ‘He said it would help if he had some cash infusions, from time to time. Which, of course, I gave him; was happy to give him. And then he asked for more, which grew into another half a million.’

‘Which you were still happy to give him?’

‘ Lend him,’ insisted Alyce. ‘Things weren’t going well by then; beginning to break down, although I don’t think I properly recognized what was happening at the time.’

Jordan wasn’t having any difficulty recognizing anything. His concentration – and retention – was absolute but it didn’t preclude his thinking in parallel. The feeling of dismissive antipathy towards Alyce had gone, replaced by the undiminished earlier embarrassment. Alyce Appleton was someone he’d briefly known, become briefly but pleasurably involved with but never imagined encountering again. Now he was reunited by unsought circumstances. What about right now, at this precise moment? Jordan couldn’t decide. It all sounded as he supposed it should sound, the necessary first meeting of lawyers, the initial strategy discussion that Beckwith had described it as being, but Jordan couldn’t actually discern any strategy evolving. Objectively Jordan acknowledged his attitude was driven by his overwhelming impatience – matched by his overwhelming need – to be rid of it all. But he couldn’t recognize any forward planning being formulated: it was all backward looking, not forwards. A closing remark of Alyce’s – ‘I came genuinely to think of him being seriously paranoid’ – brought Jordan conveniently back into the conversation.

‘Why should he have had you followed, as he obviously did, all the way to France? For the information he gathered about us there he must have engaged an army of private detectives!’

‘That was my final confirmation, about his being paranoid,’ stressed the woman, colouring again as she spoke. ‘I suppose he must have engaged them when I announced I was going ahead with the divorce

…’ She hesitated. ‘I was not involved with anyone here. I’m still not, so there was nothing for him to find here, in America.’ She gave an uncertain movement. ‘France happened -’ she looked at Jordan – ‘I wish it hadn’t: wish you hadn’t got caught.’

Before Jordan could speak Reid said, ‘That’s a point to pursue…’

‘And I will, as you should,’ picked up Beckwith. ‘He’ll have to call the people he put on to you. We can take them back before France.’ He looked to the other lawyer. ‘You can establish on oath what Alyce has just said, that she wasn’t cheating before France. And from that I can establish that there was no prior contact between Alyce and Harvey, until France.’