Breach Of Promise

“Although the parties never took out a marriage certificate, they did consider themselves married, Your Honor. Mrs. Markov has been Mr. Markov’s wife in every sense of the term except the technical legal one for twenty years.”

“But the technical legal one is the one we’re concerned with, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Nina said. “There is another basis for the claim. Mrs. Markov is half owner of the house because the parties agreed twenty years ago to work together as partners in building Markov Enterprises, and to share the fruit of their labor fifty-fifty. The house was built by the parties together, and Mrs. Markov has lived there just as long as Mr. Markov. She, too, pursues her life and business interests from the house.”

Riesner broke in. “Saying it doesn’t make it so, Your Honor. She hasn’t produced a speck of written evidence that her client had some kind of partnership agreement with Mr. Markov. And, again, I hate to be so blunt, but exactly what business interests does this lady have? Since she no longer works at Markov Enterprises…”

“That remains to be seen,” Nina said.

“Since she’s unemployed at the moment,” Riesner said, raising his voice and drowning her out, “exactly what business interests are we talking about, besides the obvious one of soaking Mr. Markov through the good offices of Counsel here-”

“At least I’m not trying to destroy the woman who helped and supported me and made me what I am,” Nina said loudly.

“Oh, please. Your Honor, are we going to have some sort of emotional outburst now? Is Counsel going to cry until she gets her way?”

Nina held on to the counsel table so tightly that her knuckles hurt, so choked with anger that she couldn’t dislodge a word.

It didn’t matter. Milne had already made up his mind. “Counsel,” he said in an unusually kind voice to Nina, “all I have in front of me in the way of evidence of ownership is a deed to the real property. A deed has to be accorded great weight. It has to be given precedence over mere words. That’s one of the basic tenets of real property law. Clearly, the parties ca

“The Court will grant the petition based on the Order to Show Cause. I’ll also grant the restraining orders to keep the peace in what seems to be a rather volatile situation. Now, let’s move on. What else have we got?”

Without fanfare, Lindy worked a gold band off of her finger and dropped it into her purse. From the table across the way, Mike Markov watched. Nina said, “We’re asking that Mrs. Markov be permitted to continue working at Markov Enterprises pending final resolution of the litigation.”

Milne raised a hand to stop her and said, “I don’t think we need to spend much time arguing that here, Counsel. I’ve read your arguments and I find them unpersuasive. If Mrs. Markov was wrongfully terminated, she will have her remedy at law in due course, up to and including back pay.”

“Actually, she is not an employee, Your Honor. She’s an owner.”

“Mr. Riesner? What do you say to that?”

“It’s just another appeal to sympathy, Your Honor. The stock certificates are right there in your file. She doesn’t own a single share.”

“But we’re contending that is because Mr. Markov has defrauded her, Your Honor!”

“Well. I understand the contention,” Milne said. “Unfortunately, the contention is in dispute. From what I have in front of me today I don’t see a clear probability that your client will prevail on this issue. With regard to Respondent’s request to continue working or to continue receiving her usual salary pendente lite, the request is denied.

“I believe that disposes of the interim matters raised in the Petition, Mr. Riesner. Now, Ms. Reilly. You had requested another set of orders, I believe. Co

Riesner offered the judge his familiar sycophantic smile. Markov sat back in his seat observing the proceedings, glancing now and then at Lindy as if to read her true purpose. All Nina had left now was the long shot. She took a moment to compose her mind, acutely aware of the round beacons beaming sickly yellow light into the cavelike room with its panels and green-tinged walls and its shifting, silent crowd of watchers.

“All right,” she said. “The Court has a deed and some stock certificates, and Mrs. Markov doesn’t have much besides her word at this point regarding those issues. But there is another issue that we have become aware of, Your Honor, both urgent and serious.”

“Like hell!” Markov said derisively from the counsel table, and once again Riesner leaned over and said, “Keep quiet!” before Milne could.

“Very urgent,” Nina repeated. “It’s this, Your Honor. Mrs. Markov has learned that Mr. Markov is hiding assets. He’s contracted to sell two warehouses and an apartment in New York in the last week, to a holding company based in Manila, which is so new I couldn’t even get the S.E.C. paperwork on it, Your Honor. By the time a final hearing occurs on all these matters, he’ll have transferred most of the assets of Markov Enterprises overseas at this rate. That’ll be the end of Mrs. Markov’s right to have these matters decided as part of a judicial process.”

Nina went on with her argument. She told Milne that she knew little of these transactions because she knew little about what was going on at Markov Enterprises. They had had no time to investigate what was hidden up Mike Markov’s sleeve. After this hearing, Lindy would have no access to the records of the business, except what Nina could extract bit by bit in the discovery process. That information would be censored and abbreviated. Even if the Court issued a restraining order forbidding Markov from moving assets overseas, the vast sums involved ought to be enough to convince the Court that Lindy Markov had a right to have that money protected until her claims were adjudicated.

Openly anticipating his midafternoon break, Milne’s eyes glanced at the clock on the wall above the jury box. Nina hated losing her audience.

“We therefore ask the Court to appoint a temporary receiver for Markov Enterprises,” she said, making her voice louder than usual, trying to gather back the judge’s attention, “a certified public accountant from the list of names we’ve provided the Court, to make an accounting of the assets and debts of the businesses and to prevent waste of the assets,” Nina said.

“Mr. Riesner?” Milne said.

Riesner just smiled, though Mike Markov looked ready to take Nina on bare-fisted. “Well,” Riesner said with a wave of his hand, as if swatting off a buzzing fly, “I hardly know how to respond. The request is so utterly capricious, so potentially damaging to the companies, so patently designed to bully and bedevil my client…” He knew he had it in the bag, and his voice took on the note of pretentious urbanity that always made Nina want to smash her code book over his head.

Instead she took notes.

Then Mike Markov, who also appeared to think it was in the bag, interrupted his own lawyer. “This is a load of horse crap,” he said over Riesner’s voice.

All eyes turned to him. He was shaking with fury.

Riesner froze midsyllable, and Milne said sharply, “What did you say, sir?”

Rachel Pembroke leaned forward and touched Mike’s arm in a futile gesture to calm him down. When he moved his arm away with a jerk, she pulled back, startled.

“It’s bullshit,” Mike said. “That’s what it is. Lindy doesn’t want my business. She wants to get back at me. I can accept that. But don’t think I don’t know who’s responsible for putting this idea into her head.” He glared at Nina, then turned slightly so that he faced the judge and audience equally. “Here’s how it is. If I want to trade my company to the king of Siam for an elephant, I’ll make the trade. Nobody but nobody else runs my business. I’ll see myself bankrupt before I let that happen. That’s my response.”