Perri O'Shaughnessy - Unfit to Practice

“We’ll recess until one-thirty,” the judge said. “We have the writing examiner ready, is that correct?”

“He’ll be here,” Nolan said.

“Court is adjourned.”

They all trooped out. Nina headed for the bathroom. As she washed her hands, Marilyn came out of one of the stalls.

“I’m very sorry you had to go through this, Marilyn,” Nina said. “But I didn’t lie to you. Somebody forged that document.”

“Don’t even try,” Marilyn said.

“Someday I hope you’ll-”

“I have a flight to catch. Pardon me if I don’t wish you luck.” She brushed coldly past.

N INA WAS SWORN and took the stand. She and Jack had hashed this out and the pretrial struggles with Gayle Nolan had been fierce, but they had won many concessions: The scope of her testimony would be limited solely to the Vang case and notes.

From the witness box Jack looked far away, and she felt the Promethean presence of Judge Brock just to her right. Lines of tension pulled all around her. The judge seemed troubled to have a member of the bar seated in the box, though he must be used to it; she turned her head slightly to acknowledge him, but he looked away, shunning her.

Marilyn had wounded her. She wanted to protest, to defend herself, but the witness box was like a cage. She understood finally why even the most obstreperous witness answered respectfully and fell into the formality of the court ritual. She felt chastened already, and the questioning hadn’t even begun.

Nolan said from her table, “Ms. Reilly, you are a member of the State Bar of California and the defendant in this action?”

“Yes.”

“On or about August eighth, you were practicing law in your office in South Lake Tahoe, California?”

“Yes.”

“Did you meet with a person named Kao Vang for the first time on that day?”

Jack sat upright in his chair, waiting for Nolan to make a false move, but with the rules of evidence as loose as they were, he would not be able to do much.

“Yes.”

“In what regard?”

“To discuss whether I would represent him in an insurance matter.”

“A claim against Heritage Insurance?”

“Yes.”

“And did you agree to that representation?”

“Yes.” She watched Jack. He nodded encouragingly. They had agreed that she would go that far.

“What did you agree to do for Mr. Vang?”

“I would respectfully like to state that I am only answering this entire line of questions because I have been ordered to do so by this court after making written objection through my attorney. Otherwise I would not answer these questions.”

Nolan smiled at that. Tapping her chin, she said, “Well, I don’t know why not, since at least thirty or forty people have seen the contents of the file by now, but let’s go ahead. You submitted a claim for Mr. Vang based on an alleged arson that destroyed his business, am I correct?”

“Yes.” The business was co-owned by Mrs. Vang, Nina wanted to say, but she and Jack had decided that she would volunteer nothing.

Nolan got up and went around to the front of her table, placing her at front and center. She folded her arms. “And during the course of that first meeting with Mr. Vang, was anyone else present?”

“Just Mr. and Mrs. Vang and their translator, Dr. Mai.”

“Did you or anyone tape record that initial conversation or videotape any part of it?”

“No.”

“Did you take any handwritten notes?”

“Yes.”

“Is this your usual procedure when first meeting with a client?”

“Yes. I have a form called Client Intake Interview. I fill in basic information about the client. Then I take notes of the discussion.”

“As the conversation is taking place?”

“Yes, although I might add something after the meeting is over that I want to remember.”

“And what is the purpose of this note-taking?”

“Well, to remind me of the information.”

“Who else sees this form?”

“No one, except my secretary, who might see it while she is affixing it to the file or-that’s about it.”

“And she might read it?”

“I have never told my secretary not to read it. She is free to read it. She needs to know what the case is about in order to perform her duties.”

“Does the client see this form?”

“Never.”

“If I asked you as your client to give me a copy, why wouldn’t you give me one?”

Nina said, “Because I may place my personal reactions and judgments into those notes. Not just the information stated. These are my personal confidential notes.”

“Are they entered into a computer at any point?”

“Never.”

“Where are those intake forms kept?”

“In a locked file behind my secretary’s desk.”

“All the time?” Nolan had begun walking back and forth as she warmed up.

Nina watched her like a cobra hypnotized by a flute-playing swami.

“From time to time I take files home that contain client-intake notes.” She glanced at Jack, who hid his embarrassment on her behalf well from the court and poorly from her. Oh, why in hell had she done that!

“And why would you take files home?”

“To work on them.” Do not volunteer, she reminded herself. Nolan was leading her toward the precipice.

“Did you, on September sixth of last year, take the client file of Mr. and Mrs. Vang to your home? The file that contained your intake interview?”

“Yes.” Nolan took her through the truck sequence, the evening, the storm, her fatigue, the lost key, the next morning, and the realization that the files had been in the truck. Nina kept her voice low and pleasant. She looked at the judge, as she had so often counseled her clients to do, but he turned his eyes to something on Nolan’s table and did not notice. She felt again, acutely, how she had let the three sets of clients down, but right alongside that feeling ran a defiance she simply could not quash.

“When was the next time you saw the Vang file?” Nolan asked, pacing in front of her, not looking at her either. Nolan was trying to keep her train of thought, keep the rhythm going, get the points out bang-bang-bang. Aware of Nolan’s thinking and Jack’s thinking as well as her own, Nina felt psychologically jerked around, as though she were playing all the roles in an enigmatic drama.

“I didn’t see it until my attorney and I went to your office. You called my attorney and said that the file had been recovered from Marilyn Rose, the previous witness.”

“And at that time did you come to my office with Mr. McIntyre?”

“Yes.”

Nolan dug out Exhibit 16. Nina tensed. “Is this the file you saw at my office?”

Nina took the exhibit and saw the familiar blue label, “Kao Vang.” “I’d have to look inside.” Nolan nodded and Nina opened it. The only contents were the three sheets of scribbled notes she had taken. The claim and its supporting documents had been kept in another file. She turned to the last page and saw the last sentences, the damning ones she hadn’t written.

Nolan said very carefully, “And is that the file you saw in my office, with the same contents?”

“Yes, it’s the one I saw in your office.”

“With the three-page form inside?”

“Yes, but this is not the three-page form in my original file. This form has been altered.” At last we come down to it, Nina thought.

The judge seemed to sigh and deflate a little. He looked down upon her at last, and she nervously decided she preferred his detachment after all.

“So,” Nolan said. “It’s the same manila folder?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the first page of notes you wrote at the time of the interview?”