Breach Of Promise

“No.”

“Yes. The hair on the back of his head grated on me. His expensive shoes grated on me. I found myself perturbed. There’s no other word for it.”

Nina lowered her head and put her hand over her eyes.

“I wanted to turn him around and coldcock him. But for your sake, I didn’t want him to know who did it to him.” He waited for a reply, and, not getting one, went on. “So I pulled a little trick I learned from an old con named Dickie Mars, a guy I busted when I was still on the Force. Dickie learned it at San Quentin. You rush the guy, push hard at the shoulder so he loses his balance, and trip him at the same time. You guide him as he’s falling so his head’s above the toilet, and you-you wash his hair for him. That’s what Dickie called it. The Shampoo. When you let go, all the guy cares about is sucking in some air and wiping his eyes. You’re long gone.”

“You’re getting a kick out of telling me this, aren’t you?” Nina asked.

“You don’t have to be Irish to appreciate a good story,” said Paul.

A long silence ensued. The waitress appeared. “More coffee?” Neither of them answered, and she went away.

“I’m sorry. I am. I lost my temper,” Paul said. “He had it coming, but I shouldn’t have done it. It’s this damn case. It’s the money, money, money. It’s making everyone nuts, all that money floating out there, up for grabs. Haven’t you noticed? The lawyers, the reporters, the crowds of people following this case, eating it up. It’s mass hysteria. It’s greed so gargantuan, it should make any sensible person flinch at the sight of it. I’m afraid it’s going to ruin us, and I let the pressure get to me.”

Nina was shaking her head.

“Look, let’s forget about it. He’s all right. I’ll watch myself.”

Nina said slowly, “Paul, you’re fired. You’re off the Markov case.”

“What? It was just a prank.”

“I-I-you’re fired, Paul. Send me a bill. We’ll have to get along without you. I have to do it, as Lindy’s attorney. You assaulted the attorney I’m arguing a case against. You jeopardized my whole case!”

“You’re firing me?”

“That’s right.”

“For protecting you.”

“For losing your temper and doing crazy things.”

“By now you should expect the unexpected. That’s who I am.”

She searched her bag and threw a five-dollar bill on the table.

“Nina, friends forgive friends,” Paul said.

“You don’t even understand why I’m so upset, do you? You never liked this case or this cause, and now you’re trying to sabotage me. You didn’t dunk Riesner to protect me. You indulged yourself in a little tribal dancing, a minor war over territory. It had everything to do with you, and nothing to do with me. But Paul, if I lose this case…” She stopped and stood up.

“The world comes to an end?” Paul asked. “Look, Nina. Aren’t you forgetting what’s really important?”

“And that would be you?”

“Us, Nina.”

But she barely heard him. She was already out the door.

“Call Lindy Markov to the stand,” Nina said.

With a glance toward Mike, who did not return her look, Lindy stepped forward. Dressed in a subdued blue skirt and jacket, Lindy showed her real age to be somewhere in her midforties. Under the direction of Genevieve she had quit coloring her hair, and beneath new gray strands her healthy face looked wan.

The clerk swore her in. She took her seat.

“Hello, Mrs. Markov,” said Nina.

“Objection. Lindy Markov is not a married woman,” said Jeffrey Riesner, getting an early start.

“She’s been called Mrs. Markov for many years. It’s the name she uses.”

“Overruled. The jury is instructed that the use of a title like Mrs. doesn’t constitute evidence of marriage in this case,” Milne said curtly, as if he had already thought the matter through.

“You call yourself Lindy Markov and have for many years, yet you are not married to Mike Markov, is that right?”

“That’s right,” said Lindy.

“When did you meet?”

“In 1976.” Nina took Lindy through the circumstances of that meeting in Ely and the first months of their relationship.

“When did you begin using the name Markov?”

“On April 22, 1977.”

“And has that been an important date in your twenty-year relationship?”

“Yes.”

“You celebrated it?”

“Every year for twenty years. That was the a

“Was there a formal occasion?”

“Mike and I went to the Catholic Church in Lubbock. We walked in, and nobody else was there. Mike took me up to the altar. He got down on one knee and promised before God to love me and do everything in his power to make me happy for the rest of my life.” At these words, Lindy closed her eyes, as if temporarily incapacitated by emotion. She had been saving up emotionally for this moment for so long, Nina was concerned that she would break down.

Slumped between Jeffrey Riesner and his female associate Rebecca Casey, Mike Markov studied the table in front of him.

Nina gave Lindy a moment to compose herself.

“You considered this your wedding,” Nina said.

“Yes,” said Lindy.

“You knew this was not a legal marriage in the State of Nevada, in that you had not taken out a marriage license and in that the wedding was not officiated over by a priest or other designated official.”

“Yes.”

“Once you divorced your first husband, why didn’t you just run down to city hall and get a license?”

“By then, we were settled together,” she said slowly. She paused, looking around the courtroom. “We had moved in together, found a house, and gotten the business going. Mike always said we didn’t need a piece of paper to prove our love. He said, ’Lindy, we are man and wife.’ Our lives were living proof we belonged together. He told me he was with me because we loved each other, not because the state decreed it. We had both been married briefly before. His breakup had been bitter.”

“Did you want to get married legally?”

“It came up several times during our relationship. I’d start thinking about it. But I never doubted him when he assured me we were together for life, in it for good and bad, forever.” She looked weepy again. “He thought formal marriage was for people who didn’t know what a real marriage was. I think it might have been more decent to be married. I felt ashamed that we weren’t officially married, but I wanted to believe him when he promised it would never make a difference. I loved him. I trusted him.”

Now Nina, using simple questions, took Lindy through the begi

“You continued to use the name Markov in all business and personal dealings?”

“Yes.”

“Your clients assumed you were married?”

“Yes.”

“Did Mike introduce you as his wife on social occasions?”

“Yes.”

“Were you introduced as his wife at business functions?”

“Yes.”

“Over the years, have many acquaintances, both personal and business, assumed you and Mike were married?”

“I believe everyone thought we were. I never talked about it, and neither did he.”

“So when it suited his convenience to be married, Mike Markov was a married man, and when it no longer suited him, he wasn’t?”

“Objection, Your Honor. Leading the witness,” Riesner said without rising from his seat.

“Sustained.”

“Did you and Mike ever have any children?” Nina asked.

“The business took the place of a child for us. We gave birth to it. We nurtured it. It grew-”

Riesner snorted audibly. Genevieve had coached Lindy on that answer, and it sounded coached.

Well, they had brought in the mantra.

In the afternoon, Winston handled the questions. For the first time in the past few years, Nina had the opportunity to sit at the counsel table and watch the jury while someone else carried the questioning.