Once We Were Brothers (40 page)

“What right do they have to send me to a psychiatrist?” Ben said, walking into the room. “Is that normal for a lawsuit?”

“No, but your testimony is the cornerstone of our case and they’ve raised the issue of your mental capacity.”

“Well, relax. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Liam took a deep breath. “Ben, as Catherine’s brother-in-law said so eloquently at Thanksgiving, you got some ‘idiot-syncrasies.’ My suggestion would be not to mention Hannah or any of your visions if you go for an evaluation.”

“I’m not stupid, Liam, but I got news for both of you. We wouldn’t have a case if I hadn’t been told to watch that program on public television. Do you think I routinely watch documentaries on rich benefactors? I’d have
no
interest in such a program. I watch very little television, maybe the Cubs and some news shows. There’s no way I ever would have recognized Otto unless I watched that show and saw the close-up of his face.”

“And you were told to watch that show?”

“That’s right.”

“Who told you?”

“Don’t worry about it. I watched it, didn’t I?”

“All I’m saying,” Liam said, “is keep your cosmic conversations to yourself. There’s no need to tell some shrink about them.”

Catherine waved her hands. “When I appear before Judge Ryan next Wednesday, I’m going to oppose this psychiatric examination. I don’t think they have the right to do it. It’s just for intimidation.”

“Am I supposed to go to court with you?” asked Ben.

Catherine shook her head. “It’s a morning court call, a courtroom full of lawyers arguing motions. There won’t be any clients there.”

Chapter Forty-three

Standing patiently before the bench of the Honorable Charles J. Ryan, Catherine and E. Gerald Jeffers waited while Judge Ryan read Jeffers’s motions and made his notes on a yellow pad. When he was finished, the veteran jurist set the papers down, nodded at each of the attorneys, leaned back and spoke softly.

“I sure get the assignments, don’t I? Twenty years on the bench and I’ve never had a case like this one. Not even close. Well, I can see why you want to push this along, Mr. Jeffers, and I can’t say I blame you. What’s your response to the motion to accelerate, Ms. Lockhart?”

“It’s unreasonable. I’m entitled to adequate time to prepare my case. I’m not trying to delay the proceedings but Mr. Jeffers is asking you to compress six months of discovery into four weeks. It’s not humanly possible for me to cover it all. They’re double and triple-tracking me – they’ve scheduled depositions in different countries on the same day. They’ve filed extensive interrogatories, requests for production and requests to admit and they want answers in three weeks. They know I’m a sole practitioner. This is just a tactic to overwhelm me. It’s unfair. There’s only one of me.”

Jeffers, in his gray tailored suit, looked smugly at Catherine and then back to Judge Ryan. “Why should Mr. Rosenzweig be penalized because the plaintiff is understaffed? These allegations are scandalous and must not be allowed the slightest tinge of legitimacy by lingering on the court’s docket. We intend to file a motion for summary judgment at the earliest possible juncture.”

“He has a point, Ms. Lockhart. Your client has accused the defendant of belonging to the most evil criminal enterprise in modern history. He’s entitled to nip it in the bud. That is, if he can. I’ll give you an extra two weeks to answer the written discovery and I’ll prohibit double-tracking – no simultaneous depositions – but beyond that, I’m going to accelerate the case. Motions are due in forty-five days and trial will be set for April 14th at 9:00 a.m.”

“But, your honor,” protested Catherine, “that’s less than four months away.”

“Well, that’s my ruling. Call the next case,” he said to his clerk.

“Just a minute, your honor,” said Jeffers. “I still have two more motions. We’ve moved for plaintiff’s medical records and an independent psychiatric examination of Mr. Solomon.”

Judge Ryan picked up the papers. “Is his mental condition in issue?”

“Certainly not,” Catherine said. “The only conduct in issue is that of the defendant sixty years ago.”

Jeffers smiled. “We think the plaintiff is…how shall I say…
non compos mentis
. Since we anticipate that they will have no tangible evidence and will proceed on the uncorroborated testimony of Mr. Solomon…”

“I object to this, your honor.”

The Judge raised his eyebrows, wrinkling his forehead. “Do you have tangible evidence: photographs, writings, war records?”

“I’m not prepared at this time to disclose our evidence,” Catherine said.

Judge Ryan nodded and scratched his head. “Would you agree, Ms. Lockhart, that Mr. Solomon will be offering eyewitness testimony?”

“I’m sure he’ll testify, but his mental or physical condition is not an element of this case.”

“Oh, it will be,” interjected Jeffers. “Of that you may be sure.”

The judge gathered his papers and stuffed them into the file jacket. “I’m going to reserve ruling on defendant’s motion for medical records or a psychiatric examination. At this time I don’t see a basis for it. Take his deposition and if you think there are grounds, we’ll revisit it. Otherwise, get your work done; we’re going to trial April 14th.”

Jeffers stopped Catherine on the way out of the courtroom. “Tell your client, if he drops the suit immediately and issues a public apology, there’ll be no repercussions. And that offer is open until noon tomorrow. Otherwise, the two of you are going to spend a lot of money and when our motion for summary judgment is granted and this case is over, we’re coming after both of you for attorney’s fees and fines, and you can expect it to be well in excess of a million dollars.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Jeffers. You got the rulings you wanted.”

Jeffers pointed his finger in Catherine’s face. “Not yet, I didn’t. There’s not the slightest doubt in my mind that this is nothing but a bullshit lawsuit, just a shotgun to the head of a wealthy, elderly man to extort money. And what makes it more outrageous to me, Miss Lockhart, is that Mr. Rosenzweig was himself a victim of Nazi terror.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Jeffers.”

“It’s your professional obligation to convey my offer to your client,” he called after her as she walked toward the elevator. “You tell him: noon tomorrow.”

Chapter Forty-four

“What did Jeffers mean, he’d come after
us
for a million dollars?” Ben said, sitting on the edge of the stuffed chair by Catherine’s fireplace.

“The signature of an attorney on a lawsuit constitutes a certification that she believes, after reasonable inquiry, that the suit is well-grounded in fact and is warranted by existing law. If we lose the case, especially on a motion in its early stages, and the court determines that the suit was interposed for an improper purpose or was frivolous, the judge can impose financial sanctions on you and me, including an order to pay the defendant’s legal bills.”

“I’m confused. What rights does Rosenzweig have to get my case dismissed? Didn’t we ask for a jury? Aren’t we guaranteed our day in court?”

“I’m afraid not – not by a long shot. It’s common practice in civil suits for the defendant to file a motion to dismiss or a motion for a summary judgment. Those are motions that allow a judge to decide whether a case is substantial enough to proceed to a jury or whether it should just be dismissed. If Rosenzweig were to file a motion for summary judgment, he would be saying, in essence, that there isn’t enough evidence to justify a jury trial. If we can’t come forward, and show the judge that there is a reasonable amount of evidence in support of our claims, Judge Ryan has the discretion to enter judgment for Rosenzweig. The case would not get to a jury.”

“Would Ryan do that?”

“Who knows? It happens. Maybe you should consider Rosenzweig’s offer. Our case is based largely upon your personal identification, some photographs and some pretty circumstantial facts – Rosenzweig’s background, his sudden fortune, the inconsistencies in his immigration stories. At this stage it would be touch and go. And a summary judgment would certainly vindicate Rosenzweig. It’s the same as a final judgment.”

“We didn’t come this far to be frightened off,” Ben said. “I told you that the evidence will be there. I’ve been assured of that.”

“By whom, Ben?” Catherine said wearily.

“Never mind. I’ve promised you and I’ll keep my promise.”

Catherine shook her head. “I don’t know why I believe you, but I do.”

“Scary isn’t it?”

Liam entered the foyer and brushed the snow from his shoulders, singing, “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.”

He walked over and rubbed his hands before the fire. “There must be four inches out there and it’s still coming down.”

“Were you able to find out anything more about Rosenzweig’s finances?” Catherine said, pouring a cup of coffee into a mug and walking it over to him.

“Nothing more than we knew. My guess is that he stuffed his stolen riches into a Swiss bank account before he left Germany, like the other Nazis. We’ll have to subpoena the Swiss banks for further information.”

“You can forget about that,” Catherine said. “I’ve already looked into it. Swiss banks won’t recognize an American subpoena, only subpoenas issued by the Swiss courts, and then only for criminal activity, not civil property cases. Besides, it takes months to get a response and I have less than 120 days.”

Chapter Forty-five

Elliot Rosenzweig received warm greetings at the NBC studios, friendly handshakes from the station’s news director, the producer of the NBC Nightly News and Carol Mornay. He was dressed in a dark blue suit set off with a patterned plum tie – not overly elegant or fashionable, as had been so often written about him at prior society events, but certainly put together, a solid and compact presentation befitting a man in total control.

“How are you, Carol? It’s so nice to see you again.”

It was Elliot’s request to be seated in an armchair for his interview rather than side-by-side at the anchor desk, a setting which he thought would lend itself to cordiality, not confrontation. He consented to a small amount of make-up – he remembered Richard Nixon – and clipped the microphone to his lapel.

“Elliot, we’re going to tape this segment now for replay on the six and ten o’clock programs,” said Carol, “and we’re going run the promotions all day. You’ll have your chance to tell your story before a considerable TV audience.”

Elliot smiled and nodded.

* * *

Liam alerted Catherine to the telecast, and just before six o’clock, Ben joined them to watch the news. Catherine held the remote tightly as NBC’s introductory fanfare and video came on.

“Are we recording this?” asked Ben.

Catherine nodded, unable to take her eyes off the screen.

“Good Evening, Chicago,” said co-anchor Bill Douglas. “Today NBC news has obtained an exclusive interview with Elliot Rosenzweig, popular Chicagoan and prominent philanthropist, who has been accused in a law suit of being Otto Piatek, a Nazi officer during World War II. Our Carol Mornay spoke with him here in our studios this afternoon, and in a moment, we will play that interview for you.” He turned to Carol who was seated to his right. “I was able to preview it before our broadcast, Carol. Remarkable piece of journalism.”

She smiled. “I called Elliot Rosenzweig earlier this week, after the law suit was filed, and asked if he would consent to a videotaped interview. You know, I’ve done taped segments with him in the past. But frankly, this time I didn’t expect him to agree. Normally, I can’t get defendants to speak with me on the air because their lawyers won’t let them. But Mr. Rosenzweig had no hesitations. He said he didn’t need his lawyer involved and agreed to answer all of my questions with no preconditions. He said he had nothing to hide. The interview took place here at the station earlier today.”

“Let’s roll the tape,” said Douglas.

As the video commenced, Carol and Elliot were seated across from each other on a set which resembled a cozy living room. Elliot smiled confidently as Carol made the introduction, in which she recounted many of Elliot’s civic achievements. Then she gave a detailed account of the law suit and said, “Tell us, Elliot, with this law suit pending and the scathing allegations made against you, why have you decided to sit for a television interview? It’s quite courageous of you.”

Elliot leaned forward and spoke with an air of sincerity. “Not at all. I have nothing to hide and I have a reputation to protect. Carol, you know I care deeply about our city and the people who live here. I have spent the major portion of my adult life and a pretty fair amount of money in service to this great community. What the people think about me and about my family, means everything to me. Now, because this baseless suit has been filed, and it’s made a splash in the media, there may be some out there who are saying, ‘Can this be true? Can Elliot Rosenzweig really be a Nazi?’ So I’m here to answer any questions you may have and let the city know how absurd these allegations are.”

“Whoo, he’s good,” Liam said. “This guy has to be the world’s best bullshitter.”