Linda Fairstein - Final Jeopardy

Maybe Goldman was just humoring me it was too soon to tell but she seemed genuinely interested in our unit’s work. We had talked about legislative reform and the history of the movement that led to the police and prosecutorial strategies of the seventies. By four-thirty I told her that I needed to stop for the day. I was tired of talking and wanted to see a couple of the lawyers who were on trial to help them prepare for tomorrow.

She turned off her tape machine and we both stood to stretch.

“What are you changing into for tonight?” she asked, and I immediately bristled at the crossover of the questioning into my personal life. How did she know I was going out tonight? I must have glared as I turned to look back at her, but Ellen was quick to spot my reaction and put me at ease.

“I mean, I see you have a garment bag hanging on your coat rack, so I just figured you were going somewhere festive after work.”

Never snap at the interviewer, I reminded myself. I was too sensitive after the events of the last week, and it took me a second to realize that Ellen hadn’t been spying on me she’d simply made a logical assumption from a glance around the room.

“Sorry, Ellen. Yeah, I’m going to a formal dinner tonight.”

“I was just curious about what you’ve got in the bag for me, not for the article. I know you’ve been described as a clotheshorse in some of the other interviews.”

I laughed at the description.

“I do love beautiful clothes.” I had no problem discussing designer labels that anyone with a good eye could recognize by looking at me if it diverted Ellen from details of my social life that I really didn’t want to see in print.

“If I remember correctly, Glamour said you favored Calvin Klein, Dana Buchman, and Escada for your business wardrobe.”

She had done her homework.

“Not exactly the kind of things a girl can shop for on a public servant’s salary, but then I’ve also read about your family background, too.”

Time to turn the tables for a minute and see how she liked getting personal.

“Well, since you know so much about me, Ellen, when do you start to tell me a bit about yourself?”

“What is it you’d like to know? I’m a sabra, Alex.

Israeli-born, to an Israeli mother and an American father.

My father was West Point a missile expert. He met my mother when he was working on a United Nations project in the Middle East. I grew up like an Army brat, on bases around the world, but did my high school and college, as well as my military service, in Israel. But I’ve always been fascinated by the States, so I spend a lot of time here, even though my family is all abroad.“

“That’s an interesting background.”

“People’s lives always seem more interesting to those who didn’t live them. It wasn’t a very stable upbringing, Alex. The constant moves throughout my childhood, never staying in one place long enough to develop relationships that outlasted the posting. In and out of new schools, having to prove each time that you were capable of doing well.

And a father in the service. Let me tell you, no matter how brilliant I knew he was, it’s not a profession that enjoys great respect in this country. I suppose some of that is why I spend so much time examining the lives of successful people, to see what makes them achievers and to see whether that brings happiness.“

I had no glib response. I thought to myself that my only comment had been, “That’s interesting.” I didn’t intend to unleash Ellen Goldman’s inner torment, but now I knew more than I needed to know. Maybe it was just easier to go back to the benign inquiry she had made.

“Well, to answer your original question, Ellen, the dress in the bag is a very elegant navy blue Calvin Klein sheath.

It should do just fine at what I imagine will be a boring testimonial dinner to a boring gentleman I barely know.“

“Someone in your business?”

“No, actually, the boss of a friend of mine. Anyway, if we’re going to continue this interview tomorrow, why don’t you just meet me across the street in Part 53, Judge Hadleigh’s courtroom. I have a sentence there in the morning which you might want to see. Then we can come back here and go on with what you need, okay?”

“That’s fine. Alex, before I leave, I wouldn’t be a good journalist if I didn’t ask about Isabella Lascar and her murder. Are there any leads yet, anything you can tell me about?”

I caught myself again. Goldman had resisted asking the question for more than two hours better than I would have guessed and I almost had her out the door.

“Nothing at all, Ellen. Keep in mind, I’m not working on the case.” And you must really think I’m an idiot, I thought to myself, if you think I would tell some stranger I just met about suspects in a murder investigation. Well, these are the professionals who hold a camera in front of a hysterical woman’s face and ask how it felt to have watched a grizzly bear eat her three children while camping in Yosemite. It’s a job.

Ellen left and I dialed Jed’s number.

“Shall I have a car pick you up at the apartment?”

“No. I knew I couldn’t get out early. I’ve got all my things here, so I’ll shower and change and meet you at the Plaza.”

“Well, please try and get there in time for some of the cocktail hour. Andersen’s anxious to see you, and we’ll never get a chance to talk to him once we’re all seated and the banquet begins.”

Anderson Warmack was Jed‘ sboss and the dinner tonight was in his honor.

“This must be something new. He blew me off at the summer picnic didn’t seem too anxious to meet anyone except the bartender and the twenty-year-old bimbo who was with his son that afternoon at the club.”

“Sweetheart, he didn’t know who you were then. Now he’s heard all about you. He was a huge fan of Isabella’s, and once he found out you were her friend and that we had actually taken her to dinner one night, he’s got a million things to ask you.”

“You’re not serious, Jed. How could you?”

“What?”

“How could you trade on the gossip of that girl’s death?”

I was aggravated and angry. It seemed so unlike Jed to use Isabella to get to Warmack.

“Oh, c’mon, Alex. You must be aware that everyone is talking about it. Things like this don’t happen every day and people are interested in it, especially when it intersects with the lives of people they actually know.”

I was silent at the end of the telephone line. Thanks a lot for your concern for the deceased, Mr. Warmack, it’s heartwarming.

“I mean, there are fascinating things, like the DNA you were talking about. Do they have results on that yet?”

“Jed, I hope to God you haven’t been talking about evidence to anyone!” I was livid.

“I told you about things because they happened in my house, behind my back, and I thought you’d care about that. I never expected that you’d tell other people I don’t intend to lose my job because you use-‘ Jed interrupted me.

“Calm down, Alex, calm down. I haven’t told Anderson or anyone else what you’ve told me. I just meant that as an example of an interesting fact people don’t know much about.”

“Well, let’s keep it that way. DNA takes six weeks, eight weeks, sometimes longer to develop,” I said, trying to mollify Jed with technical data.

“If the case isn’t solved by then, I’ll really be out of my mind.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, Alex. I’m trying to keep Anderson happy.” The rumors had been circulating for weeks that Warmack would step down by the end of the year, and that Jed had a great shot at being picked to succeed him.

“Sorry I was so casual about Isabella – I didn’t know the old guy was such a fan, and I guess I’m trying too hard to please him these days. I never should have mentioned I had met her with you.” “And I’ll never get out of here if we don’t get off the phone so I can finish up at my desk. Kisses.” Truce. I pursed my lips and smooched into the phone line. I buzzed Laura and asked her to tell the two assistants who wanted to see me to bring up their case files so we could go over their problems. She gave me all the messages she had been holding during the Goldman interview, and told ‘ me she’d be gone by the time I got underway with the next meeting.