Writ of Execution (27 page)

“How often did you see him in the months prior to his death on February seven last year?”

“Pretty much every day once the Christmas break ended.”

“Were you acquainted during that time with Atchison Potter, Dan Potter’s father?”

“No. Never met him, though Dan talked about him.” Avoiding that territory, which could inspire a blitz of hearsay objections, Nina went on, “Did you meet Mr. Potter after Dan Potter’s death?”

“Well, I saw him at the funeral. Then one more time, at the place where I worked in Honolulu. He came in with another man and ate dinner at a table where I was the waiter.”

“How soon was this after Dan Potter’s death?”

“I can’t remember exactly. Several months, maybe four or so. I had heard from Jessie that . . .”

“Never mind what you heard. Mr. Potter was sitting at one of your tables?”

“Yeah. He ordered the chicken Caesar salad. No wine. Then when he was finished, he stopped me as I was clearing the plates and said he wanted to talk to me for a minute. We weren’t very busy. I said sure. He introduced himself and I thought I should have known, because he looked a lot like Dan.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, I said I felt lousy about Dan’s de—passing, and how smart he was and a good friend. And Mr. Potter was nodding and looking sad. We talked about what a good guy Dan was. Then Mr. Potter says, ‘By the way, you never saw Dan sick during his last months, did you?’ And he said it in this sort of new tone that made me wonder what—”

“Objection. Speculation.”

“Sustained. Strike the last sentence.”

“So he asked you if you ever saw Dan sick—”

“Objection. Misstates the testimony.”

“Withdrawn. What did you answer, if anything, to that question?”

“I started to say—”

“Objection. Nonresponsive. It doesn’t matter what he started to say, unless he said it.”

“Sustained. What did you answer?” Amagosian said, looking up from his notes.

“Well, I didn’t get a chance to say anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Not right then. He holds up a finger and he says, uh, ‘I know your circumstances, Byron, and I’m going to help you because you were Danny’s friend. I’m going to leave you a tip that’ll help.’ ”

“He kept you from responding to his question?” Nina asked.

“He held up his finger. Like this.” Byron held up a finger and everybody looked at it. Big deal, Riesner’s expression said. It didn’t look like Byron had been menaced or threatened by that finger. Nina was getting more uneasy with each answer.

“And did you understand that the tip he was going to leave was a quid pro quo for—”

“Objection,” Riesner said. “His understanding of the words spoken is irrelevant. The point is, what were the words.”

“It goes to his state of mind,” Nina said. “When he accepted the tip.”

“His state of mind is irrelevant,” Riesner said.

“I’ll sustain the objection,” Amagosian said. It was a blow. Byron had never actually opened his mouth and told Atchison Potter flatly that his son had, in fact, been sick. Nina had prepped him so she knew this.

“So he gave you this tip?”

“He was sitting right at the table and he handed me this envelope full of bills.”

“How much was this tip?”

“Five thousand dollars cash.”

Nina paused. There were whispers behind her. The implication was clear, but implications weren’t going to get Jessie out of this judgment.

“Were you accustomed to receiving such large tips?”

“Twenty dollars was the biggest tip I had ever gotten.”

“So the amount of the tip was entirely out of proportion to the services you had rendered as a waiter?”

“Definitely.”

“What if anything did you say upon receiving this large sum of money?”

“Well, I looked at him and I said, ‘Okay, what do I have to do for it?’ ”

“Did he respond?”

“He smiled and said, ‘We’ll be in touch.’ Then they left.”

“Was he subsequently in touch?”

“Not him specifically. One of his lawyers came over one night and handed me a subpoena to testify in the court case against Jessie. He said, ‘Now, as I understand it, you never saw Dan Potter sick. He never looked sick, never talked about being sick. Is that correct?’ ”

“And did you subsequently testify exactly that at the court trial?”

“Yes. I’m ashamed to say I did.” He looked directly at Jessie as he said this.

“And was that testimony truthful?”

“No.”

“Speak up, Mr. Eppley,” Nina said.

“No. I lied. The truth is that Dan really was sick. About two weeks before he died he told me one day in class that he was really sick and missed two days of school the week before. He thought he had appendicitis or something, and he had to go to the doctor. He told me it was the second time this had happened to him and the pain was excruciating.”

“And did you tell the judge in Hawaii any of this?”

“No. I knew what I was supposed to say.” Nina glanced at Riesner, who was smiling incredulously. It’s going to be a rough cross-exam, she thought.

And it was. Riesner got up and adjusted his lapels.

“Let’s start with the dinner,” he said. “Mr. Potter and his associate sat down at one of your tables and Mr. Potter identified himself and you talked about his son, Dan. Correct so far?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Potter said he knew your circumstances and he was going to help you because you were Dan’s friend.

Right?” Nina was checking her notes. That was exactly what Potter had said, so she couldn’t object.

“That’s right.”

“Did he help you?”

“Well, he gave me five thousand dollars.”

“Was that helpful to you?”

“Very. I needed it for tuition fees.”

“Did he say anything along the lines of ‘This money is a bribe for you to lie in court’?”

“No. But I knew he wanted something from me.”

“And how did you know that?”

“Because I said, ‘What do I have to do for it?’ And he said I’d be hearing from him.”

“So?”

“Well, I heard from him. I heard from his lawyer. I heard what I was supposed to testify.”

“Really. You heard what you were supposed to testify. The lawyer asked you if it was correct that you had no information that Dan Potter was ever sick—”

“Objection. Misstates the testimony,” Nina said.

The testimony was read back. Atchison Potter’s lawyer had been very careful to phrase the information in the form of a question.

Riesner barked, “And you lied to that lawyer, didn’t you!”

“A lie I knew he wanted to hear.”

“Move to strike that last remark! Speculation!” Riesner shouted.

“Sustained,” Amagosian said.

“You told him Dan Potter was never sick?”

“Yes.”

“That was a lie?”

“Yes.”

“All right. And then you repeated that lie in court? You perjured yourself?”

“I did. I’m very sorry I did.”

“But Atchison Potter never asked you to lie?”

“Not in so many words. C’mon, I knew. . . .”

“You’ve told us everything he said?”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about Mr. Potter today, as we sit here in court?”

“I despise him,” Eppley said. “And I despise myself for getting mixed up in this.”

“You took his money but you despise him for trying to help you,” Riesner said as if to himself, shaking his head wonderingly.

“No editorial comments are necessary, Counsel,” Amagosian said.

“Sorry, Judge. It’s just—I’m afraid I was carried away with indignation. . . .”

“Move on, Counsel.”

“What did you do with the money, exactly?” Riesner said. “Did you deposit it in a bank account?”

“N-no.”

“Well, what did you do with it?”

“Kept it at home.”

“Let’s see, how much was your tuition for that semester?”

“Two thousand five hundred.”

“Did you pay it with that money?”

“Yes.”

“Did you pay with a check?”

“No. I paid a friend back some money I owed him and then I borrowed from him again. He wrote the check.”

“You paid your friend in cash?”

“Yes.”

“And how do we know that?” Riesner said. “How do we know any of this crazy story is true? How do we know you ever received any money from my client?”

“That’s why he paid cash,” Eppley said. “So it wouldn’t be traceable.”

“Sure. And that’s why you can’t show us a deposit slip, any record at all, to prove independently that you ever received this money?”

“There was another man there with him,” Eppley said stubbornly. Nina did the squirm thing.

“So, he’s here no doubt to prove your story since you acknowledge you’re a liar? What’s his name?”

“I haven’t got a clue.”

“What did you do with the rest of the money?”

“I spent it. On living expenses.”

“Paid for things in cash?”

“Right.” Eppley’s head was hanging low.

“You’re not exactly a solid citizen, Mr. Eppley, are you? Excuse me, got carried away, withdraw that question. Your family is from Tonga?”

“Yes.”

“You
are
a citizen, by the way? A U.S. citizen?”

“Yes.” Eppley gripped the witness stand and Nina thought, Oh, no.

“In fact, you’ve just committed some more perjury, haven’t you?”

Eppley said nothing.

“You’re not a citizen, but you claimed you were when you applied to the University of Hawaii, didn’t you?” Riesner picked up a pile of official-looking papers. He passed some copies over to Nina and gave copies to the clerk and said, “Mark for identification.”

And then he gave the marked exhibit to Byron Eppley and forced him to admit that he had lied about his citizenship to get into the Applied Linguistics program at UH. Paul had his head in his hands. Obviously Eppley hadn’t mentioned this to him.

He hadn’t told Nina this either. She had asked him whether there was anything in his circumstances that could hurt him.

Eppley was a liar and his testimony was useless. And Riesner knew it. As a hound releases the mangled bird at the foot of his master, Riesner deposited Eppley, limp and half dead, in front of Amagosian.

Amagosian said to his reporter and the clerk, “Have the district attorney’s office look at this witness’s testimony over the lunch hour. I want a decision as to whether perjury charges should be brought against him before he leaves California. I want a copy of the testimony forwarded to the Circuit Court in Honolulu that originally heard this case. And I want a copy sent to the registrar’s office of the University of Hawaii. Ms. Reilly.”

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“I hold you responsible for keeping that witness here in town until a decision has been made whether to arrest him.”

“I will do what I can, Your Honor.”

“You have his return ticket?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t let him have it.” He looked at his watch. “We will take the morning break at this time.”

They all rose as he disappeared behind his private door. Eppley, dismissed, got up and left the courtroom, not looking at anyone.

“I’ll tear him apart,” Paul fumed in Nina’s ear.

“Shh.”

Riesner chose this moment to walk over to Nina and say, “Gotcha, you little bitch,” in a low voice. Paul grabbed him by his expensive lapels and pulled him close. Riesner let out a half-strangled chuckle. A flash memorialized them as a camera went off. Then Deputy Kimura appeared at Paul’s side, hand on his holster.

Paul let Riesner go. Riesner turned his back and went back to collect his client, dusting off his lapels. Laughing all the way, ha, ha, ha.

22

“CALL DR. JUSTIN Jun.”

Today Dan Potter’s doctor looked like a man who could stand up to some pressure, unlike Eppley, who had squished like a banana under a tank tread. Sporting a tailored suit, polished shoes, and an assured walk, he took on power and weight.

But Dr. Jun had a lot less on Atchison Potter. Eppley had been bribed. Jun had merely been subjected to a legal technique common to witnesses in default hearings: he had been distorted. His testimony alone wouldn’t overturn the judgment.

Eppley had been a stinging blow. Nina felt herself flinch as she mentally relived the savagery attending his demolition. The little guy often didn’t win, because often his witnesses were not impressive. Poor people seldom made it to adulthood without having at least one brush with the law that made them look like flakes or worse on cross-examination.

Mel Akers, her old boss back in San Francisco, used to say that poor people made poor witnesses. “Of course they do,” he would say in his soft controlled voice. “They have had poor educations, poor stability, poor pay. Worst of all, they’ve been involved with bureaucracies all their lives. The bureaucracies hound them as much as help them, and they document everything.”

So what if Eppley had lied to UH? Who knew what bureaucratic obstacles had stymied his family when they tried to become citizens? He wanted a graduate degree. He lived in Hawaii. He couldn’t attend college without lying, so he lied. He accepted a bribe, yes, but he was trying to make that right.

Nina wasn’t angry at him, but she was angry.

She admitted it to herself. She wanted to win partly because she wanted to beat Riesner. It was personal. But angry lawyers make mistakes. She would have to be careful. Paul, sitting at her right again, rubbing a fist with his other hand, was angry too and wasn’t always careful. This worried her.

She took Jun through his education and experience as a gastroenterologist. Jun’s parents had come from Seoul before Jun was born. They had died soon after, but they had left Jun with an extended family who took good care of him. Jun had gone to Notre Dame.

First she established the approach that had been made to Jun by Potter’s Hawaii lawyer: that he was tangential; that the unspecified evidence that Jessie had caused her husband’s death was overwhelming; that he would be paid a high fee as an expert witness.

Then she took him through the two visits Dan Potter had made to him, the young man’s symptoms, and the tests he had run. Jun made it plain that he had observed Dan Potter in severe pain on two occasions.

“Now. With reference to the questions and your answers on page 34, commencing at line 13 of the trial transcript.” Jun read through the sequence from the Hawaii proceeding. Judge Amagosian and Riesner were also reading from their copies.

Nina quoted, “ ‘Question by Ms. Anzai: Well, it sounds like you performed every test you could think of on this young man, didn’t you?’ ”

“ ‘Answer by Dr. Jun: No. I performed the tests that I felt would be most likely to reveal the problem.’ ”

“ ‘Question: And all you found was this slight elevation in inflammatory parameters, as you put it?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: Correct.’ ”

“ ‘Question: But you say that this young man was in severe pain! Severe, right?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: I would characterize it as severe. And I do not believe he was malingering.’ ”

“ ‘Question: And how do you explain, based on your education and experience and personal observations and all the tests you ran, how he could be in severe pain but have nothing wrong with him?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: I’m not saying he had nothing wrong with him. I’m saying that I couldn’t find out what the problem was.’ ”

“ ‘Question: Did you test him for arsenic poisoning?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: There was no—’ ”

“ ‘Ms. Anzai: Nonresponsive, Judge.’ ”

“ ‘Judge Otaru: Answer the question as it has been put to you.’ ”

“ ‘Answer: No. I didn’t.’ ”

“ ‘Question: Did you test him for exposure to any type of poison?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: No, but—’ ”

“ ‘Ms. Anzai: Answer yes or no.’ ”

“ ‘Answer: No.’ ”

“ ‘Question: It could have been poison, right?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: Anything is possible.’ ”

“ ‘Question: You couldn’t rule out poison? You didn’t test for poison?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: No. I wasn’t looking for that. I—’ ”

“ ‘Question: His wife could have been slowly poisoning him for weeks, so he would be sick, so she could concoct this story later, after she did away with him?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: As I said, anything is in the realm of possibility. Although I feel that—’ ”

“ ‘Question: So since you don’t have a clue what was wrong with this young man, poison is as good a guess as any, correct?’ ”

“ ‘(Witness shrugs).’ ”

“ ‘Judge Otaru: You have to speak audibly for the record.’ ”

“ ‘Question: Well? Yes or no?’ ”

“ ‘Answer: Yes.’ ”

Nina stopped and waited until she had Amagosian’s full attention. “Was this testimony true and correct?”

“No. It was not the full truth. I was prevented from answering fully. I was not asked questions that would have brought forth the full truth. I was forced to answer with a yes or a no even when the answer would be misleading unless I could explain it.”

Nina watched Riesner stand up, smoothing his hair back. “I move to strike all the, quote, testimony, end quote, of this witness,” he said. “I have listened in fascinated horror as Ms. Reilly walked tediously through a replay of a trial which is now over. Perhaps, I thought, this witness too will confess to some egregious action which reflects more on him than on the trial. But we do not have a confession of perjury this time. We have absolutely nothing. The full truth did not come out? Really. The witness was prejudiced in favor of the defendant but could not indulge his prejudice because the defendant did not decide to show up at all. That is his complaint. It is a pseudo-complaint. He was examined and gave testimony. Now it is far too late to whine about being kept close to the point.”

“Well, Counsel?” Amagosian asked Nina. “The witness is not changing his testimony, although I suppose he wants to embellish it. I’m not inclined to allow that at this late date.”

“For him to take this last possible opportunity to bring forth the truth has nothing to do with embellishment, Your Honor,” Nina said. “We’re here to find the truth, aren’t we? In Hawaii, no opposing counsel appeared in court to object to the leading questions, the repeated and calculated interruption of the witness, the limiting of the witness to yes or no answers. An obvious miscarriage of justice was the result. Surely this court can spend a few minutes more hearing what this witness would have testified if given a fair opportunity to do so.”

Amagosian sighed. “Keep it brief,” he said. Nina gave him a heartfelt smile and he looked disapprovingly back to his paperwork.

Jun sat quite calmly throughout this exchange, his files and the trial transcript exhibit spread in front of him.

“Dr. Jun,” Nina said, “what in the testimony that was just read back to the court was misleading or false?”

“Objected to as vague, leading, overbroad, and generally of the kitchen-sink strategy for which Counsel is becoming infamous,” Riesner said, yawning.

“Overruled,” Amagosian said before Nina could open her mouth. “It’s as good a question as any. Let’s hear what the doctor was trying to say. Well, Doctor?”

“I can answer the question?” Jun said. Nina nodded, and he said, “All right. What I was trying to explain to the judge in that proceeding was that if there had been any poison such as arsenic in Dan Potter’s body, it would have been found as a result of the autopsy, which was very thorough. The lawyer had to know there were no such findings.”

Riesner’s voice rose again. “Pure, unadulterated hearsay,” he said.

“Sustained,” Amagosian said, as he had to, since Jun was trying to report on an autopsy someone else had done. Nevertheless, Nina could see she had piqued his interest, and was heartened.

“What else?” Nina said, and Riesner groaned. Paul tensed and seemed about to get up, and Nina elbowed him as invisibly as possible. “Don’t you dare,” she whispered, and he subsided.

“I’ll take that as an objection,” Amagosian said to Riesner. “And I will overrule it. Go on, Doctor.”

“I found no basis for any belief that the young man had been poisoned. I regret if that implication was taken from my testimony.”

“Go on,” Nina said, having realized that these were the magic words, that Amagosian just wanted Jun to spit it out.

“The main thing which I wish to clarify is that the young man, Dan Potter, advised me that he had suffered at least two attacks of severe abdominal pain. The pain came on in less than five minutes in both instances.”

“Would you say at this time that the death was consistent or inconsistent with a sudden attack of severe abdominal pain which caused the young man to fall from his kayak and drown?”

“Entirely consistent,” Jun said, rapping it out. He had flown all the way from Hawaii to say that. He looked at Jessie and gave her a short nod. Riesner was objecting, but Amagosian said, “Let’s just leave that in the record for what it’s worth, Counsel. Ms. Reilly. Anything further?”

Jun had made his point. “No, Your Honor.”

“You may cross-examine.”

But Riesner, ever wily, said, “No cross, Judge,” knowing that Jun would spring at any further chance to help Jessie. Jun left the stand. With a whisper to Nina, Paul followed him out of the court. He had promised to get Jun back to the Reno airport. Byron Eppley would be sticking around.

The judge called a recess for lunch. Nina fled before Riesner could hassle her some more. Out in the parking lot bees buzzed the flowering bushes, and a warm breeze brushed through her hair. A dozen bicyclists dressed in their spidery spandex whizzed by.

She was tossing her briefcase onto the seat when she heard Amagosian say, “Ms. Reilly?”

“Judge?” She was alarmed. They weren’t supposed to discuss the case at all. What could he want?

“Nice day,” Amagosian said. He was much smaller close up, older, and his face seemed kinder too.

“Sure is.”

“I was wondering, nothing to do with the case of course, but your client bears a remarkable resemblance to a man I once knew. Actually worked for me for some years as a foreman on my ranch. Just wondering if she could be a relation.”

“I don’t know,” Nina said. “All I really know is that she is a Washoe.”

“Oh, then it can’t be.”

“Why not?” Nina said.

“Well, this man was Armenian. There are so few of us in this area.” He nodded and got into his car.

She met Paul and Dr. Jun at Sato’s. Paul was driving Jun to Reno to catch a flight and they had to hurry, so they had wisely started without her. “Sorry,” she said. “Amagosian caught me in the parking lot. Then I had to stop for gas.”

“What did Amagosian want?” Paul said. He looked quite handsome in his blue court suit, but the hula-girl tie detracted from the otherwise sedate impression.

“Oh, just to chat. He thought Jessie looked like this Armenian who used to work for him. I told him she’s a Washoe and took off.”

“I’ll never think about ethnic heritage the same again after this visit to Hawaii,” Paul said. “Pride in your roots, but people of different backgrounds intermarrying at the same time. Not that there aren’t still problems, but they’re on the right track.”

“It’s history, I think,” Jun said. “The first American generation sometimes doesn’t want to think about the old country. It’s the grandchildren who realize they’ve been left rootless in this world. I can’t speak a word of Korean, but I’m going to study it someday.”

“Maybe I’ll put the O back on the Reilly name someday,” Nina said. “It got lost when the boat landed.” Her sushi came and she poured soy sauce onto her ginger and wasabi, then picked up a piece with her chopsticks and dunked it in before putting it in her mouth. “Manna,” she said.

Paul looked at his watch. “Well, we better haul if we’re going to make the flight. You sure you don’t need me later?”

“I’ll be fine.” If only it were true. She hadn’t made the clear and convincing case she had thought she would. Atchison Potter was the only witness she had left, and he was a lawyer. “Potter’s all we have left. We’ll finish this afternoon.” “He looks quite a bit better today.” Paul turned to Dr. Jun and said, “He had jet lag or something when we saw him a few nights ago.”

Dr. Jun said, “Well, he looked fine today.” He got up with Paul. “Well,
a hui ho
,” he told Nina. “It means, See you soon. Let me know how it comes out.”

“Of course.” She shook Jun’s hand.

“Be careful,” Paul said. “I’ll get back as soon as I can.” He jingled his keys.

She watched Paul and her witness get into Paul’s Mustang and drive off and ate some more California roll.

Amanda Lewis—Kenny had gone to see her. Had he somehow precipitated her murder? Had she been killed with a Glock? Could Kenny be involved? Could Jessie?

She still had an hour, since Amagosian had some intervening matter, so she decided to stop by the office.

In the parking lot of the Starlake Building, she was stunned to see Riesner’s Jag taking up two spots. She ran down the hall, remembering that Sandy was watching the baby, that Jessie was probably there. As she got closer she heard the unmistakable deep voice of Sandy telling somebody to leave.

The door was open. Inside, an apocalyptic scene which struck Nina dumb—Jessie holding the baby at her shoulder, backed against the wall, her face hard and set; Sandy, standing protectively in front of her, arms folded, feet apart; Riesner, tall and imposing, sitting on Sandy’s desk with an expression of triumph and glee.

And his stocky client, the blue-jawed Mr. Atchison Potter, in Sandy’s face, eyes bulging, seeming about to burst from his jacket, hands up as though the next step would be to try to strangle Sandy, which would not be a good plan.

At her entrance, they all turned to her, Jessie with relief, Riesner with a smile, Potter with a snarl.