Perri O'Shaughnessy - Case of Lies

“Your Honor,” Nina said, “the Ace High has dropped its request for a full dismissal.”

“This is on the court’s motion. We can’t go forward on this, so we’ll have to end it.”

“With respect,” Nina said firmly, “this court does not have jurisdiction to do that.”

The famous flush spread across Flaherty’s cheeks. “Because?”

“Because it has not yet been two full years since the date the suit was filed.”

Flaherty went back to the file while Nina stood behind the table, waiting for him to have another look.

“I see that we are two weeks shy of the two-year discretionary limit,” he said finally. “You are correct, Counsel. May I ask if you expect to identify and serve another defendant in the next two weeks?”

“We hope to,” Nina said. “We intend to move forward much more rapidly from now on.”

“Well, give it your best shot,” Flaherty said. “I’m going to take this matter under submission until”-he looked at his clerk, who gave him a date two weeks away-“November twenty-seventh. On that date I will look at this file again. And if the plaintiff hasn’t found somebody else to sue I will dismiss the entire case at that time.”

Now Betty Jo was on her feet. “There would be no reason for the court not to approve the settlement with the Ace High today.”

“In the current state of the paperwork we have an all-or-nothing situation,” Flaherty told her. “Your client hasn’t made a move in two years, either. He can wait another two weeks, then we’ll sort out the whole thing. You don’t need to appear in court again. You’ll get a minute order and that’ll be that.”

“But-” Nina and Betty Jo said together.

“If you don’t like my decision, you can bring a different motion,” Flaherty told the two lawyers. “Of course, that will take longer than two weeks. Anything else?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“So ordered. The court will take its midmorning recess.” He stepped down and the audience straggled out.

Betty Jo came over to Nina’s table. “Sometimes I want to kick him right in the cojones, ” she said. She and Bova went out.

Dave Hanna said, “We’re going nowhere fast, it seems. Why did he stop the settlement?”

“He postponed it. He doesn’t like cases to hang on. It messes up his calendar. He wants to dispose of the suit.”

“Why didn’t we just agree to end the whole thing?”

“Because we have a line on the man who shot your wife.”

Hanna looked startled. “We do? What are you talking about?”

“Let’s go outside and I’ll explain.” They went downstairs and out the doors to the fountain and sat down on Nina’s favorite concrete bench in the sunlight. Nina gave Hanna her copy of the bookstore receipt and said, “Dave, I think we can find at least one of the witnesses with this.” She explained its history.

“So what?” Hanna said. “One of them bought some books, and one of them mentioned a Professor Brown, and they flew to Boston, but that might have been a ploy. You think that’s enough to find them? I don’t.”

“Not just any books,” Nina said. “Wish found out the names of the books. They were texts in advanced mathematics. Now, I agree that there will be a number of Professor Browns on the East Coast. But there won’t be too many teaching graduate-level math. And we have descriptions of the three witnesses. Dave, as soon as I have a list of the Browns, I’ll call them. I think one of them will remember this trio. I think we can find them. I think we can give Judge Flaherty the name of one or more new defendants within two weeks.”

“Even if you find the witnesses, that doesn’t mean you have the man with the gun. The man who shot Sarah.”

“Leave it to me,” Nina said. “Did you drive up alone?”

“Yeah. Rog and Chelsi have gotten way too involved in this.”

“Well, sorry about the check from the motel. It’ll still be there in two weeks, though. Mr. Bova is going to want out even worse in two weeks, if we get lucky.”

Hanna said, “I’ll get going, then. Keep me posted.”

“Stay strong,” Nina said. She watched him walk down the path toward the side parking lot, sorry that he just didn’t seem to care about anything anymore.

Back at the office, she held a deposition in a medical-malpractice case in her office. The doc didn’t give an inch, and by the time she and Sandy slid into the booth at Margarita’s across the street she felt like she’d had a full day.

Sandy slid a printout of a long list across the table to Nina. “Colleges within a twenty-mile circle around Boston,” she said. “There’s one on every block, like convenience stores. There are hundreds. Think of all those heads in the clouds.”

“Good work! How’d you get this?”

“Off the Web. It took about five minutes. I’m going to look at the faculty listings this afternoon with Wish while you’re back at court.”

“That’s going to take longer,” Nina said. “Maybe we should prioritize.”

“Maybe we should eat.” The quesadillas had arrived and they took a break from talking. The little cantina was almost empty. The dark booth with its border of Christmas lights soothed Nina. She leaned back against the red vinyl and said, “The big universities first. Because they have the most professors.”

“Like Harvard?”

“Harvard, Tufts, Boston University, UMass Boston, MIT, uh, I can’t think of any more. But those are big places with graduate schools. Let’s start there.”

“Can Wish use your computer at your desk while you’re out?”

“Sure.”

“And all we know is Professor Brown. Why couldn’t he have been named Professor Rastafarian or something?”

“Might be a she,” Nina said. “Might be a high school. Might be the motel clerk remembered the wrong name. Let’s be grateful for what we have.”

“Hmph.” Sandy put out a twenty on the table.

“That’s way too much for your share.”

“I’m treating today. In honor of my raise. Which I hope to see in my lifetime.”

Sandy called Nina at the courthouse at four that afternoon. Nina was out in the hall, trying to set up a visitation schedule for another client, a father of twin toddlers whose estranged wife didn’t want him to see them. “Excuse me,” she told the client, and went into the bathroom.

“We found three Browns so far,” she said. “Plus a B-r-a-u-n and a B-r-e-h-o-n. All teaching math courses. Just with the five places you wanted to start with. Should we keep going, or do you want to make a few calls?”

“It’s already seven on the East Coast,” Nina said. “Try to find a few more before you go home. I’ll make some calls in the morning.”

She went back out into the hall. Her client was sitting on the bench, head between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like killing her,” he said to Nina. So she dealt with that, and didn’t get home until after six.

Dinner, a walk, a bath. Then sweet, sweet bed.

IN THE FALL OF HIS JUNIOR year, Elliott tried to steal Silke away from Raj. He calculated his odds at fifty-fifty. He attempted to impose rationality on what was essentially an irrational urge, deciding to go for it and risk losing Silke, losing face, and losing Raj’s friendship.

He had recently undergone a sea change in his thinking. He would be reading a paper from the Moscow Math Institute online and would lose his concentration, remembering how beautiful Silke looked when she sat at the blackjack tables, tossing back watered-down booze and joshing around with naive tourists.

A girl he dated a few times when he was sixteen accused him of never thinking about anything except math. He didn’t correct her, because it would have been rude, but he also thought about sex. Sometimes both things churned around inside him simultaneously, good whiskey mixed with rich food.