The Namedropper

Twenty

Harvey Jordan isolated the discrepancy within fifteen minutes, which was hardly surprising as he was the only one among the three of them to have studied the entire and detailed computer notes of Dr Mark Chapman and Dr Jane Lewell and knew his own venerealogist’s assessment practically verbatim.

‘Antigens!’ declared Jordan, straightening up from his comparison of the court-presenting dossiers of the three American doctors. The fourth, prepared by the English specialist, James Preston, was also on the table, although to one side and not part of the main comparison.

‘What?’ demanded Beckwith.

‘Antigens,’ repeated Jordan, isolating the reference in George Abrahams’ deposition, copies of which were before both lawyers to compare against those on Appleton and Leanne Jefferies, which were also in front of them. ‘And doesn’t that turn everything on its head!’

‘It might if we understood what in God’s name you were talking about,’ complained Reid.

Beckwith had warned Jordan of Reid’s overnight resentment – initially rejecting outright the suggestion of another meeting between them – at the possibility of Jordan’s further criticism, and there’d been a discernible hostility during the half an hour they’d already spent together. Uncaring, Jordan insisted, ‘See the mention, in what Abrahams wrote…?’ His finger traced the passage.

‘I’m there,’ confirmed Beckwith.

Reid nodded, without speaking.

‘Now, go on,’ urged Jordan, quoting, ‘“The patient’s blood, which is group O, was subjected to further, microbiological haematological examination to establish the presence, if any, of chlamydia antigens, which would have remained present if the patient had suffered the venereal infection but undergone successful antibiotic curative treatment. There was a complete absence of chlamydia antigens, which confirms the patient, Harvey Jordan, had never been a sufferer…’” He looked up, inviting a reaction.

None came from either lawyer, both of whom were moving between the three separate papers. He had to be careful not to give any indication of having seen the case notes, Jordan reminded himself. He said, ‘There’s no reference in the reports, from either Appleton or Leanne’s specialists, of antigens. Or of an examination of their blood to look for them. Appleton’s says: “haematological examination found no evidence of the chlamydia bacteria in the patient’s A blood grouping.” Leanne’s specialist says: “The patient’s blood, which is of the AB type, was completely clear of any chlamydia infection.” But there’s no indication of any microbiological tests to prove that neither Appleton nor Leanne didn’t have antigens in their blood, which would be the medical proof that they never suffered from it.’

Beckwith came up from his frowned comparison, his face clearing. ‘You’re right! Their depositions only prove that Appleton and Leanne are clear now!’

‘And it does turn everything on its head,’ agreed the finally smiling Reid. ‘The most important being that Alyce could be telling the truth after all.’

Beckwith wasn’t smiling, though. To Jordan he said, ‘You did well, picking up on the omission. Well for Alyce. But not so well for yourself. If Alyce hasn’t been sleeping around the defence I intended against your criminal conversation claims goes out the window.’

‘Does it?’ demanded Jordan. ‘What about what else we’ve already talked about this morning comparing the depositions, which were so late being delivered that you, Bob, think they’re grounds for a postponement? Aren’t you a tad curious that Leanne’s medical report was prepared by a Boston venerealogist, not one far more conveniently located in Manhattan? I am.’

The two lawyers looked at each other before Reid picked up the English deposition. ‘Your guy Preston didn’t list antigens clearance, either.’

‘Preston was anything but my guy: he was little more than a medical fraudster whose professional opinion – inadmissible in an American court anyway – was so inadequate that I had the second tests here, by Abrahams,’ refuted Jordan.

‘I think you’re right,’ said Beckwith, talking to Jordan. ‘If Pullinger thinks, has the vaguest suspicion even, that something is being withheld from him – which isn’t taking it as far as him thinking that he’s being lied to – we’re throwing the party.’

‘How we going to do this?’ demanded Reid, the resentment – and resistance – finally going. ‘These – ’ he lifted and let drop the Boston depositions – ‘are part of my case, not yours. A stickler to the rules like Pullinger won’t let you introduce them into your submissions.’

‘Not a problem,’ assured Beckwith. ‘There’s no North Carolina rule against our co-operating, is there?’

Reid considered the question. ‘None, as far as I’m aware. I need to check.’

‘You’ve got a day and a half to do that: and for us to work out a way around it if what I want to do is barred. A day and a half as well to chase up all the other outstanding queries to be answered by your enquiry people,’ said Beckwith, pointedly not looking at Jordan. ‘I want to hit Appleton as hard as I can, first time. It could determine the outcome of everything, your case as well as mine. We’d all of us be home free.’

Reid did look towards Jordan, but still without any animosity. ‘Thank you. You’ve put in a lot of work: more than any client should do; be required to do.’

‘I want to keep my hands on my money,’ said Jordan, meaning it.

‘And I want to say I appreciate it,’ said Reid. ‘Alyce should, too.’

‘You got a side office here that I could use?’ Beckwith cut across the apologies, talking to the other lawyer. ‘I need to call a lot of people. And go through a lot of law books I don’t have down here with me.’

‘You can take your pick of whatever you want,’ offered Reid.

‘Who’s going to talk to Alyce, tell her she’s no longer facing an inquisition?’ asked Jordan.

‘I am,’ said Reid. ‘I was pretty tough on her yesterday.’

‘Let’s not get too confident,’ cautioned Beckwith. ‘I still need to call her as my witness on Wednesday. And I won’t have her holding back on me.’

‘I’m not going to tell her that all her problems are over,’ assured Reid.

‘That’s good, because they’re not, for any of us. Not yet.’ said Beckwith.

Beckwith seemed passingly bemused by Jordan’s announcment that he was returning to New York during the intervening thirty-six hours but didn’t ask why, instead warning Jordan to be back in Raleigh in more than good enough time to be in court for the opening of the submission application. Jordan caught the first flight that morning, which got him into Manhattan before ten. He didn’t go directly to the Carlyle but detoured instead to West 72nd Street, where the three expected loan applications were waiting, as well as another from the Chase Manhattan, also with an initial $10,000 maximum. Finally at the hotel Jordan completed all four and hand delivered each along Wall Street, at each stop completing forms for the monthly repayments to be directly debited against the account. At each he also withdrew money from every account to spread between his various safe-deposit boxes. At all five banks he was greeted effusively but without any curiosity or suspicion by the managers with whom he’d opened the accounts. Back once more at the hotel Jordan spent a long time painstakingly going through every outlet at Appleton and Drake – concentrating upon the accountancy and financial control divisions – for any indication of his embezzlement having been discovered. And found nothing. He completed the visit by distributing a further $15,000, for the first time moving from the company’s currency division section to metals.

His most essential tasks completed, Jordan settled down to bring himself up to date from each of his other illegal entries, going first to his own lawyer, still in Raleigh, and found no additional material. He did better with Reid. There was contact, timed three hours earlier, with an enquiry agency named DDK Investigations. In it Reid complained at the lack of progress to a man identified as Jack Doyle in any of the enquiries they had previously discussed by telephone. In the email Reid repeated everything to which he wanted an urgent response. The reason for Appleton’s withdrawal from the America’s Cup selection and the three-year gap after Appleton’s graduation from Harvard topped the list.

Beckwith was not at the Raleigh hotel when Jordan first telephoned, but picked up the phone on Jordan’s second attempt, just before nine. It had been a hell of a day, apologized the lawyer. He wouldn’t know until tomorrow if George Abrahams could get to Raleigh for the Wednesday hearing to appear as an expert witness; if the venerealogist couldn’t re-arrange his diary Beckwith might ask for a postponement. He’d warned the court he didn’t expect to conclude his dismissal submission in one day and that there was a possibility of it even extending to three. He’d advised the lawyers appearing for Alfred Appleton and Leanne Jefferies that sections of their depositions were likely to be questioned, suggesting that Drs Chapman and Lewell be put on standby to be called as witnesses. Beckwith had then been cautioned by Pullinger’s court clerk that the judge was extremely intolerant of his sittings being disrupted by what he considered time-wasting and inappropriate presentations.

‘Which there’s every likelihood of Pullinger deciding from my calling so many witnesses,’ concluded Beckwith.

‘What about Alyce?’ questioned Jordan, intentionally switching the discussion.

‘Bob told me she can hardly wait to confront Appleton in court.’

‘Let’s hope she’s not disappointed.’

‘Let’s hope none of us is disappointed,’ said the lawyer, heavily. ‘When are you getting back?’

‘The plane’s scheduled for three tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Let’s meet in the bar at six.’

The plane was on time, which gave Jordan more than an hour to move that day’s tranche of money into his banks, as well as again checking through the financial control and monitoring division to ensure he remained undetected.

Jordan was in the bar, waiting, when Beckwith arrived, in jeans, workshirt and cowboy boots. The lawyer ordered a martini – ‘because I think we’ve got cause for a celebration’ – and led Jordan to a table out of the hearing of anyone else in the room.

George Abrahams had re-arranged his diary and was arriving on the first Wednesday morning flight, the lawyer reported; a room had been reserved for Abrahams at their hotel for the Wednesday night as a precaution against the submission not being completed in one day. There had also been further telephone calls from the lawyers representing Appleton and Leanne confirming their attendance but without any indication whether their venerealogists would accompany them. If they didn’t, Beckwith said, he might apply for an adjournment, depending upon how his application went, primarily – although it was essential he cross-examine both specialists – to irritate Judge Pullinger at the other side’s prevarication. He’d arranged with court officials – as Reid had for Alyce – for them both to enter the court precincts through back access points, hopefully to prevent them being pictured by the expected TV cameramen and media photographers: there’d been several telephone approaches during the day from New York and local journalists, even though, as Beckwith’s application was pre-trial, it was automatically to be heard in camera. That would give him the opportunity to pressure the other side with unspecified challenges and potential revelations into applying for the eventual full hearing to be private. Reid was attending, as was his legal right, as an observing attorney because Alyce was listed as a witness, and in any case intended applying for a closed court if the submission wasn’t made on behalf of either Appleton or Leanne.

‘I think we’ve got them running scared,’ said Beckwith. ‘I can’t remember a lot of times when I could have dropped everything to confront an unspecified, out-of-town court challenge like the other side’s lawyers have done here. Neither can Bob.’

‘You’re talking lawyers appearing,’ said Jordan. ‘What about Appleton and Leanne being here personally?’

‘We won’t know that until tomorrow, when the court convenes. If either were my clients I’d keep them away.’

‘Could you call them, as witnesses, if they do turn up?’

‘I haven’t officially listed them. If they do show I could apply for Pullinger’s discretion. Which I might well do, even on a minor point. There’d obviously and very definitely be a legal argument which I’m sure I could use to move Pullinger into our favour.’

‘What are our chances of a complete dismissal?’ demanded Jordan, bluntly.

‘I’ve been through this with Bob,’ said Beckwith.

‘I want you to go through it with me!’

‘Slightly less than fifty percent. Which, as a gambler, you’ve got to accept as pretty good odds.’

For the briefest of seconds Jordan was disorientated by the reminder of how he was supposed to make his living. ‘I try for better.’

‘I can’t offer you anything better.’

It was a desultory dinner between two people brought together beneath the same roof who had already talked out all there was to discuss, each striving for conversation until the very end, when Beckwith suddenly said, ‘To use an expression that you’re more familiar with than me, we could be on the home straight here. I don’t want any surprises, OK?’

‘What’s that mean?’ demanded Jordan, genuinely bewildered.

‘You haven’t had any contact with Alyce, not since that night in New York?’

‘You know I haven’t.’

‘I don’t know you haven’t. That’s why I’m asking you.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘Not even by telephone.’

‘No.’

‘You’ll be on a witness stand tomorrow, on oath. I don’t want any outbursts.’

‘If there was going to be an outburst – if I didn’t have the anger locked away – I’d have already shouted you down for what you’ve just asked me about Alyce.’

‘Bob thinks you’re carrying a torch for her.’

‘After the mess she’s got me into! You’ve got to be joking! Bob Reid’s talking through his ass.’

‘There’s too much in what you’ve just said for me to handle all at one time,’ ended Beckwith, getting up from the table. ‘Breakfast tomorrow at eight, OK?’