The Namedropper

Seventeen

Harvey Jordan extended his intended absence from New York by twelve hours, getting back into Manhattan by the middle of the third day. There were three messages waiting for him at his Carlyle suite, which he’d maintained to provide just such a contact point. One was from Daniel Beckwith. The other two were from Alyce. Before responding to any of them Jordan checked his intrusion traps, which were undisturbed, and after that settled before his laptop at the bureau and steadily worked his way through his illegal Trojan Horses, none of which he’d accessed from London, adhering strictly to the unbreakable operational rule never to cast his phishing nets from more than one dedicated computer. He was particularly careful going into the system of Appleton and Drake, alert for any indication that his entry had been picked up on, which there wasn’t. Still preying on the currency trades, he spread almost $22,000 between his five accounts.

From Beckwith’s system Jordan was easily able to infer contact from legal representation of both Alfred Appleton and Leanne Jefferies through the exchanges between his lawyer and Alyce’s, even though they were disjointed and incomplete because the two attorneys were obviously communicating, irritatingly, sometimes by email and on other occasions by telephone. Jordan’s further, even more irritating discovery was that Leanne Jefferies was being represented by Brinkmeyer, Hartley and Bernstein, the same firm engaged by Appleton but by a different partner. Leanne’s lawyer was Peter Wolfson, whose name was listed directly below that of Appleton’s attorney, David Bartle, on the company letterhead. Jordan ignored the immediate disappointment, quickly switching to his Trojan Horse stabled in the Brinkmeyer system in his search for electronic correspondence between Wolfson and Bartle. As he’d feard, there wasn’t any.

Jordan finally allowed the frustration to burst over him, physically hot. If Bartle and Wolfson were going to discuss everything between themselves within their own Madison Avenue building, which was clearly and most naturally what they would do, apart from occasional, but so far uninitiated, email contact with either Beckwith or Reid, there was no possibility of him eavesdropping on their thoughts or strategies. Objectively acknowledging his over-expectation, Jordan had still imagined he could sit upon the highest pinnacle overlooking everyone’s manoeuvrings and scrabblings, always to be ahead of every opposing move. What he had – precisely with all his computer entries – was the best spot in the foothills. Still sufficient. Still enough. But only just: not, by any assessment, as complete as he wanted his monitoring to be. But then he hadn’t yet accessed every site open to him. Still hopeful, Jordan followed his well-marked trail into every other hidden observation point in every other invaded computer. But found no further revelations, finally slumping back in the over-padded chair.

He’d hoped for so much more, some closely guarded confidence – confessions or admissions even – between the lawyers and their clients that he could have turned to his advantage. He at least knew things were moving forwards. For the moment, but not much more than a moment, he had to be satisfied.

Jordan was connected at once to Daniel Beckwith, who said, ‘Welcome back! I hear there’s more money in the pot?’

More for my benefit than yours, thought Jordan. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised by the quickness with which Lesley Corbin had alerted Beckwith to his visit to Chancery Lane to deposit a further fifty thousand dollars – she was the essential conduit, after all – but he was. ‘I thought it was a good idea. What’s happened here while I was away?’

‘We’ve got our pre-trial submission hearing next Wednesday,’ said the American. ‘We need to meet before then, obviously. And travel down on the Tuesday…’ There was a pause. ‘You want Suzie to make your hotel reservation along with mine? Or do you want to do it yourself? The hotel choice isn’t great.’

Beckwith had been curbed, Jordan recognized. ‘We’ll need to be together in the same hotel. I’d be grateful for Suzie doing it at the same time as she books yours. What other developments have there been?’

‘Leanne is being represented by the same people who are looking after Appleton, although obviously not by the same attorney. She’s contesting Bob’s claim of criminal conversation.’

Why hadn’t he found that on Reid’s computer? wondered Jordan. An official, legal and lengthily argued rebuttal on original court-submitting papers, he guessed; he still thought there would have been some email reference he could have picked up upon. Jordan was discomfited at the possibility of more windows being shut against him. ‘How’s that affect us?’

‘It doesn’t, directly. Her lawyer is a guy named Wolfson, Pete Wolfson. Bob hasn’t yet got their official response, just a phone call telling him they’re opposing it.’

‘What about medical records?’

‘Promised by the week’s end. I’ve already filed for a court order, demanding production in case it doesn’t arrive by then. Even if it does it’ll form part of the record for Pullinger to realize their reluctance.’

‘There doesn’t seem to be any point in our meeting until Friday at the earliest then?’ suggested Jordan.

‘The medical stuff doesn’t directly impact upon our application,’ Beckwith pointed out. ‘We’re not reliant upon it, one way or the other, at this stage.’

‘I want to be as up to date as possible,’ insisted Jordan.

‘You will be,’ assured Beckwith.

He was appearing too anxious again, accepted Jordan. ‘What about media interest?’

‘Increasing,’ replied Beckwith. ‘I got a call from the London Times the day before yesterday. Bob’s hoping to get his closed court hearing next week too, depending upon the length of ours, which technically has to precede what Bob does. I don’t see why we should need more than one day, although Pullinger could reserve judgement. Which shouldn’t stand in Bob’s way, even if Pullinger refuses my submission.’

‘Did The Times have my name?’ demanded Jordan, alarmed.

‘That’s all that’s listed, nothing else that could identify you,’ said Beckwith. ‘I refused to talk about anything: answer any questions.’

‘They must know I’m English to have called in the first place.’

‘Your being English wasn’t the direction of their approach. It was all about the break-up of two of the oldest American colonial families.’

‘They could get the lead from Appleton’s side,’ said Jordan, more to himself than to the other man. He should have warned the London concierge, John Blake. He still could, although not today. It was 8.30 p.m. in England. Blake would have left the building by now. It had to be his first telephone call tomorrow.

‘I warned Bartle about contempt,’ reminded Beckwith.

‘They wouldn’t be risking that, guiding people to me. And I can’t imagine the threat of it restraining British newspapers for a moment.’

‘I can’t do any more than I’ve already done to prevent your identity coming out,’ said the lawyer, the impatience obvious.

Too anxious again, accepted Jordan. ‘Let’s wait until Friday to meet.’

‘You going to be at the Carlyle all the time until then?’

‘All the time,’ promised Jordan.

‘I’ll call you if anything comes up in between. Let’s say eleven on Friday. I’ll have Suzie make plane reservations to Raleigh as well. This time next week we should know where we are.’

‘That’s what I want to know,’ said Jordan. ‘Exactly where we are.’ The light on his telephone console began to flicker, indicating a waiting call.

‘You’re back!’

‘Just walked through the door.’ Jordan instantly knew the voice. ‘I was just going to return your calls.’

‘How was London?’ asked Alyce.

‘I got done what I went there to do.’ Jordan hadn’t expected it to take most of one day to extend the Hans Crescent lease, sort out the query letters held for him at Royston and Jones bank and – a spur of the moment decision, despite what he was now accumulating in the accounts in New York – to withdraw additional funds to deposit with Lesley Corbin, all of which had delayed his return by those twelve hours.

‘You spoken to Dan yet?’

‘A minute or two ago.’ This could so easily have been a casual, how-was-your-trip conversation.

‘So you know Leanne entering a defence?’

He had to ignore the lawyers’ warnings against contact with Alyce, Jordan decided: without being able to intercept any computer correspondence between her and her lawyer she was his only access to her side of the case. Testingly he said, ‘Only that. Dan didn’t go into any detail.’

‘We’re matching every claim Alfred is making against you,’ responded Alyce, without hesitation. ‘And intend inviting the jury to award punitive damages against Leanne Jefferies, as well. Bob sent our detailed claim to her lawyer yesterday; he’s from the same firm representing Alfred, incidentally. Bob thinks that’s a bad move on their part. Could be interpreted that Alfred and Leanne are still involved.’

As this conversation could be interpreted against him and Alyce, Jordan thought. The idea came with that reflection, as well as the awareness that the prompt to Reid had to come from Alyce. He said, ‘The way to bring it out in court would be for Bob to cross-examine her on who was paying for her defence.’

‘Yes it would, wouldn’t it?’ agreed the woman, just as quickly.

From the tone in which she talked Jordan imagined the woman to be smiling. ‘Maybe you should mention it to Bob?’

‘Already decided,’ said Alyce, the smile still in her voice.

‘You back in Raleigh?’

‘Still in Manhattan. I had more to do here than I thought.’

‘The application for my dismissal from the case is being heard next week.’

‘I know. I’m on standby to be a witness in your favour, if necessary.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He had to lead her thinking into telling him everything.

‘I thought I did at the conference in Raleigh; that I would support the application in any way I could?’

‘I hadn’t appreciated it to be as positive as that. I can’t imagine how I could help as far as you are concerned, but you know I’ll be there for you in whatever way I can.’

‘I think you did tell me. But thank you for telling me again.’

‘Let’s do that,’ urged Jordan. ‘Tell each other things at the risk of repetition.’ He had to know everything.

‘I…’ started Alyce but abruptly stopped.

‘What?’ demanded Jordan.

‘Nothing,’ refused Alyce. ‘Newspapers – the media in general – are chasing me. That’s another reason – the main reason, I suppose – for my not going back to Raleigh. They’re watching the estate: virtually camped outside.’

‘But not here in Manhattan?’

‘This is a new address, since I got back from France. What about

…?’ Alyce trailed to a halt again.

‘What?’

‘My arm’s getting tired, holding the phone up for so long.’

He needed the continuing conduit, Jordan reminded himself again. ‘Your guy – and mine – insisted we shouldn’t meet unchaperoned.’

‘Which I think is bullshit.’

‘That’s what we’re employing them for – advice.’

‘I still think it’s bullshit. We’re adults, for Christ’s sake!’

‘Looking at a lot of potential problems we don’t want to make any worse.’

‘I shouldn’t have started this.’ The smile had gone from her voice.

‘Nothing’s started.’ He needed her, Jordan recognized. Needed her as a source of information and needed her support if she had to be a witness at the dismissal hearing. And he knew from accessing the Watchdog computer less than an hour ago that neither he nor Alyce remained under any surveillance.

‘Let’s forget it,’ she said, tightly.

‘What were you thinking of?’

‘I don’t know what I was thinking of. It’s not important.’

‘We’re each of us too dependent upon the other to fall out.’

‘Who’s falling out?’

‘It sounds to me like we could be. The first time I made the mistake and I apologized, twice.’

‘It just seems so… I don’t know… childish I guess, that we can’t talk to each other properly.’ Now the impatience had gone.

‘It would be better if you came here, somewhere public, and we had dinner very publicly in the restaurant, rather than me coming to your apartment.’

‘I wasn’t inviting you to my apartment.’

‘Then my suggestion works. I’ll make a reservation and be waiting for you in the lobby… say seven, seven thirty.’

There was a brief silence from the other end of the line before Alyce said, ‘I’ll be there at seven.’

There’d be a minimal insurance in telling Daniel Beckwith, Jordan supposed. But not tonight. Afterwards.

Alyce Appleton came into the hotel lobby precisely at seven with the self-assurance of someone who knew her rightful place in such moneyed surroundings; an impression that had come to Jordan in France but which he had forgotten until now. She saw him at once – which he’d intended, unlike the initial subterfuge at the Carlton – and continued on without pause, her face opening into a smile as she reached him. The blonde hair was loose and he saw at once that the diamond ring had been discarded, as well as the wedding ring. The shawl over one shoulder matched the blue of her skirt and made the perfect contrast against the paler sweater and Jordan was conscious of the looks that followed her, from women as well as men.

She said, ‘Hi. Quite like old times, meeting in hotels again!’

‘Not quite the same, though,’ qualified Jordan, surprised by the lightness.

‘Perhaps not,’ she agreed, falling into step as he led towards the bar. She chose mineral water to his martini. As they touched glasses she said, ‘You want to know a secret?’

‘As many as there are to know,’ Jordan said, meaning it.

‘I almost chickened out at the last minute, about coming tonight. I actually went back from the corridor into my apartment, to think.’

‘Why didn’t you?’

Alyce shrugged. ‘This is my call, isn’t it, us meeting like grown-ups? I thought about what we discussed on the phone, about Alfred and Leanne still being together.’

‘Are they?’ pounced Jordan, at once. ‘Have Bob’s enquiry people come up with something?’

She shrugged again. ‘I mean about what you said, about their both being represented by the same firm. Bob hasn’t told me anything of what his detectives have discovered. That’s what they are, aren’t they? Detectives?’

‘I guess,’ dismissed Jordan, disinterested in an immaterial definition; he knew from his earlier exploration of Reid’s computer that there had been no email contact from any enquiry agency. ‘But you changed your mind again and now you’re here.’

‘And I’m glad. What happened in France was wonderful and what’s happened since is total, awful shit and I like the idea of our being able to behave for a couple of hours as normal people – as friends, most definitely not lovers – and now we’ve got it out of the way I want to stop talking about it. There!’

‘Very positive,’ judged Jordan.

‘I used to be once, before I married Alfred. He took me over. Mr Svengali.’

‘I didn’t get the impression of you being beaten into submission in France.’

‘In France I’d escaped. I was free. It was a good feeling. One I hadn’t known for far too long. Not since…’

Jordan waited and when she didn’t continue said, ‘Not since when?’

Alyce shook her head. ‘France really was wonderful. Immediately before that, back here, I’d actually tried therapy, imagining it was my fault everything had gone wrong with the marriage. This is beginning to sound just like one of those therapy sessions, without the couch and with more noise. I don’t want to talk

about it any more, OK?’

No it’s not OK, thought Jordan, disappointed. He said, ‘OK. Why don’t we eat?’

He’d personally chosen a corner banquette table at which they could sit side by side but separated at its apex, looking out over the dining room. She deferred to him choosing the wine, as he had in France, and restricted herself to two glasses, again as she had in France. He accepted her suggestion of the Chesapeake soft shelled crabs and they shared a Chateaubriand. Jordan cut short Alyce’s renewed apology for him becoming involved in the divorce action and they agreed that neither was looking forward to the following week’s court hearings.

‘Who’s ever heard of an affair being described as a criminal conversation, for Christ’s sake!’ exclaimed Alyce. ‘It must date from the time we burned witches.’

‘Everyone in North Carolina has heard of it, apparently,’ replied Jordan, ignoring the rhetoric. ‘And I agree it’s unbelievable that laws like it still exist in the United States of America… exist anywhere that imagines itself to be halfway civilized. Our problem is that there’s nothing we can do about it except go with the system, as half-assed as it is.’

‘Does Dan really think he can get you dismissed from the case?’

‘I guess he wouldn’t be trying if he thought it would be a total waste of time.’

‘When are you going down to Raleigh?’

‘Somewhen over the weekend, I suppose. I’ve agreed to Dan making the arrangements. You?’

‘The same, I guess. You know where you’re staying?’

Jordan shook his head. ‘Dan says there isn’t a wide choice.’

‘There isn’t. I’m glad I changed my mind tonight and came after all. It reminds me a lot of France.’

‘But for the differences we’ve already agreed.’

‘But for the differences we’ve already agreed,’ she echoed, smiling. ‘That reminds me of France, too. Saying the same things to each other.’

‘No doubt whatsoever?’ queried Jordan, although he accepted there couldn’t be from what Daniel Beckwith had just told him.

‘Read it for yourself,’ suggested Beckwith, pushing the venerealogist’s report across the desk.

Jordan did, twice. Looking back up to the lawyer he said, ‘So how did Alyce, who says I was her only other sexual partner apart from her husband, contract chlamydia?’

‘That’s what I asked Bob, before you got here this morning. And what he’s going to ask her.’

‘What else did he say?’

‘That Alyce is thirty-one years old and if she’s only ever had two lovers so far she’s the next in line to the Virgin Mary.’

‘That’s not funny.’

‘Bob wasn’t trying to be funny. He’s one big pissed off attorney.’

‘Alyce lied: is lying,’ decided Jordan, the awareness spreading through him. He hadn’t learned anything from the Carlyle dinner, making it a waste of time, but he’d had that time to waste and he’d enjoyed being with her – and talking to her again the following day when she’d telephoned to thank him – and now he knew she’d been treating him like a fool – treating all of them like fools.

‘She’s got to be lying, hasn’t she?’ said Beckwith. ‘It’s knocked Bob’s case to hell and back. He’d just read Leanne Jefferies’ medical report when I spoke to him this morning. She’s clean, too.’

‘I met her this week,’ suddenly declared Jordan, knowing that it was essential that he did. ‘The same day that I got back from London. We had dinner together.’

‘You met Leanne Jefferies?’ frowned Beckwith, confused.

‘Alyce,’ corrected Jordan. ‘She called me after I spoke to you that morning. Called it childish that we shouldn’t meet. You should know.’

‘You’re damned right I should know!’ erupted the lawyer, his face colouring. ‘We told you, Bob and I, that you shouldn’t be together without one of us being there as well. Why the fuck…?’

‘It did seem childish that we couldn’t meet, like two normal people,’ said Jordan, defensively. ‘We had dinner, talked…’

‘Stop right there, right now!’ ordered Beckwith, his face redder with anger, holding up a hand. ‘Did you sleep with her?’

‘No, I didn’t sleep with her!’

‘You sure?’

‘What the fuck do you mean, am I sure! Of course I’m sure! How could I not be sure?’

‘I want it all… what you ate, what you drank, who you saw or who might have seen you, every single thing you said and talked about to each other… every fucking thing you did!’

‘Let’s work your questioning backwards,’ insisted Jordan, refusing the returning intimidation. ‘We didn’t fuck. The conversation came down to reminiscences, of France, apart from Alyce telling me that during their marriage Appleton psychologically controlled her. We would have been seen, by the hotel CCTV, always in public places. We had one drink, in the bar – she drank water, I had one martini – we ate soft shelled crabs and steak, with a vintage Chateau Margaux. I got the concierge to call her a cab and personally put her into it, all of which should be shown on the CCTV and confirmed by the hotel staff. We weren’t alone or out of sight for a minute and we can prove it. OK?’

‘No, not OK,’ rejected Beckwith, stridently. ‘You were told, both of you, not to get together in any way or circumstance that could be construed that your relationship was ongoing. Whether you considered that advice childish or stupid doesn’t come into any calculation or thinking. It doesn’t matter a damn what you think or whether or not you agree with that advice. That’s what you’re paying a whole bunch of money for me to provide and why you’re stupid, if you choose to ignore it. We know now – and the court is going to know – that Alyce has lied. And the court is also going to know – because I’ve got to tell them to avoid being made to look a jerk if I don’t tell them and there’s even more photos of you and Alyce in a hugger-mugger hotel setting – that you’re still seeing each other. Which totally fucks my plan of insisting next week that there is no continuing relationship, that you’re not trying to alienate Alyce’s affections and that you’re not engaging in every definition of criminal conversation, according to the relevant North Carolina statute…’ The man paused, breathless.

Recovering, he said, ‘I don’t think I’ve missed any of the important points of how well you’ve done blowing your defence to a multi-million-dollar damages claim right out of the water, do you, Harv? You think I’ve overlooked something, why don’t you tell me?’

‘It’s Harvey. My name is Harvey, not Harv.’

‘At this precise moment you name is cunt-of-the-month. Alyce Appleton has a string through your nose ring and you could end up a very poor man.’

‘Leanne Jefferies’ attorney is from the same firm representing Appleton,’ argued Jordan, weakly. ‘Doesn’t that indicate they’re still together?’

Beckwith sat staring across the table at Jordan, unspeaking, until finally Jordan said, exasperated, ‘What?’

‘Let me ask you what. What the fuck has that got to do with anything? It’s nothing whatsoever to do with you, with us, with our case. If Appleton is still fucking Leanne’s brains out that’s for Bob to prove and get Leanne to pay for, for her criminal conversations. I’m trying to get you off the hook and you’ve stuffed it right up your own ass. You know what I’d like to do right now? I’d like to withdraw from this case and from representing you. I think you’ve put me into a no-win situation and I’m a win person, not the other way round.’

‘So why don’t you withdraw?’

‘Because if I did I’d render you unrepresentable by any other attorney, which would leave you swinging in the wind, and I’ve got more integrity than that. I’ll go on doing my absolute and very best and you’ll pay through the nose for every second that I’m doing it. Until today trying to help you was damage minimization. Now it’s damage limitation, with whatever minimization I can work in as a bonus.’

‘I suppose I should thank you.’

‘I’ve had more than a gutful of what you suppose and I couldn’t give a bag of rotting shit for your gratitude. I’ll have to tell Bob about your tryst, obviously. Now we’ll have to go down to Raleigh tomorrow, give ourselves as much time as possible to see what he’s going to do and re-assemble my submission…’ The lawyer hesitated, halted by an afterthought. ‘You got any more hand-holding assignations planned with Alyce, the forgetful virgin?’

‘No. And we didn’t hold hands. Or anything else.’

‘Good,’ said Beckwith. ‘And don’t, not ever again.’