Breach Of Promise

“Object to the form of the question!” said Rebecca.

“Sustained."

Looking ready to excuse Mike, Winston flipped quickly through his notes. “Oh, by the way,” he said.

Mike, who was practically out of his chair with eagerness to be done, sat back and waited.

“About the Solo Spa, the most successful product your company created. During your direct examination by Mr. Riesner last week, you showed us a drawing of it you made."

“Yes."

“That was the first drawing?"

“Yes."

“Isn’t it true that Lindy Markov caused you to make that first drawing?"

“ ’Caused’ me to make it? No."

“She told you her idea and you made a sketch?"

“No."

“She even made a little sketch herself, which you copied?"

“No. That sketch I made with the red pen I always use-that’s the first."

Winston got out the drawing and showed it to the jury. While he did this, Nina set up an overhead projector. Deputy Kimura placed a projection stand and screen to one side of the court reporter.

“Let’s just get a little better look at that drawing of yours,” Winston said. At his signal, the lights in the courtroom went down. There on the screen, hugely magnified, was Mike’s sketch in red pen. Winston pointed beside one of the red marks with a pencil tip. “Hmmm. What’s this?"

“What?” Mike leaned forward.

“These little lines here,” he tapped his pencil against the screen, “and here? Looks like pencil to me. Does it look like pencil to you, Mr. Markov?"

Mike’s mouth opened and closed. The marks were faint but clear.

“Does it?"

“It appears to be pencil. Yes, I must have done it that way first."

“But you always use your red pen to draw, isn’t that what you testified?"

“Obviously, I didn’t here."

“Obviously, you didn’t. Now, let me direct your attention to the date in red ink at the bottom of the page. See these marks here?"

“Not to read, no."

“No? Let’s magnify that just a little more.” The date sprang up, filling the bottom edge of the screen, and along with it, underneath it, in pencil, some letters.

“Let me further direct your attention to the letters at the bottom of this page. What do those letters say, Mr. Markov?"

“I don’t know."

“Really? You can’t see they say ‘LM’?"

Anyone could see they did except Mike, who said, “I don’t see it."

“You can’t read those letters, in writing, in black and white, plain and simple up there on the screen?"

Mike didn’t respond. The jury members looked across the courtroom from the letters to Mike.

“He has testified he can’t read those scribbles. Objection. Asked and answered,” Riesner sputtered.

They had done it. Yes! wrote Genevieve. Winston had been first to blow up the sketch and identify the initials. Even Lindy hadn’t remembered at first sketching the spa in pencil. They had hidden their surprise right under Riesner’s nose.

“ ‘LM.’ Isn’t that how Lindy Markov always signed her memos, Mr. Markov?” Winston asked, waving a sheaf of them to discourage Mike from putting up a fight about it.

Mike swallowed and admitted it.

“We have nothing further, Your Honor,” said Winston, shrugging to show his utter indifference to the man sitting on the stand behind him, who got slowly up from his chair and stepped down. For the first time since his testimony had begun, he turned his unhappy eyes to Lindy.

The next morning, Jeffrey Riesner was back in command, calling Hector Galka, Executive Vice President of Financial Strategies and Accounts. Hector looked tidy today, with his brushy mustache neatly clipped and trim body outfitted in a well-tailored suit. Nina liked his beautiful hazel eyes.

As he took the stand, he avoided looking at Lindy.

Based on his deposition, they already knew what he would say, and he didn’t disappoint. He hemmed and hawed, but in the end, for Hector, there was only one boss at Markov Enterprises: Mike Markov.

During cross-examination, Winston emphasized the bias in Hector’s perspective. “By the way, how much do you make per year as a base salary for Markov Enterprises in your capacity as executive vice president,” he asked, “not counting year-end bonuses, health plans, that sort of thing?”

“Um. One-sixty.”

“One hundred and sixty thousand dollars a year?” Winston repeated, drawing out the words for maximum effect. “And how much did Lindy Markov make at the time she was removed from her position?”

Much more slowly, as if he’d never thought about it before, Hector answered, “Seventy-five thousand a year.”

Winston had slipped that by Hector so fast, Hector hadn’t had time to do anything but answer the question. It hadn’t come up at the deposition, and Hector hadn’t been prepared.

And now Winston stood back and said absolutely nothing.

The jury, the other lawyers, the parties, the audience waited, but he bent down to tie his shoe. So they thought about the last question and answer.

A new mood dawned in the courtroom. Agitated whispers came from behind Nina, and she thought, they’re getting it, they’re getting it, we’re going to be all right in spite of everything. Why would Lindy be paid so relatively poorly for what Hector had just testified was similar work? She clenched her hands into fists under the table, willing Winston to grab this chance and run away with the trial with it.

“Why was Lindy Markov paid less than you?” Winston said when he was good and ready and they were all waiting for him to say it.

“Because-because-” Hector stammered.

Winston leaned on the podium, perfectly patient and ready to wait forever. “You’re the chief financial officer, Mr. Galka. If anyone knows, it’s you. Why?”

Hector’s left index finger moved up, slowly, slowly, to his mustache. He combed it gently. “I suppose-you see, she lived with Mike, she had no expenses…”

“Because she was a woman, and Mike didn’t feel the need to pay her fairly?”

“No, of course not.”

“Because the pay was just fun money for one of the owners? How much did Mike get paid?”

Hector answered, “The same as Lindy.”

“So, since he got a salary, that made him an employee, too?”

“No… You know.”

“Yes, I know, Mr. Galka. We all know. Do you remember stating in your deposition that Mike became president and Lindy became vice president because the man always gets to be president? Remember this question from page thirty-three, lines ten to twenty-two of your deposition: ’Is it a big male ego kind of thing?’ And your answer was, ’Yes, that kind of thing. He was the man.’ “

“I was just-I was just-”

“Telling the truth?”

“Objection,” said Rebecca.

Milne called Rebecca and Winston up for a conference. Nina drew stars all over her legal pad while she waited. After some whispered discussion, Rebecca took her seat and Winston resumed the podium.

“Now, you’ve known Mike for more than twenty years, and you’ve seen Mike and Lindy at every stage in their life together. So let me ask you, Mr. Galka, and please tell us the unvarnished truth. Wasn’t it very important to Mike that he appear to be the boss in the relationship and in the business, no matter what the real responsibilities were?”

“Well… I suppose,” Hector said almost inaudibly. He looked at Mike, who looked confused, as if he wasn’t sure what the problem was. Nina thought Mrs. Lim noted Mike’s reaction, as well as several of the other women.

If this didn’t win them some of the women jurors, nothing would.

Over the next several days, Riesner and Rebecca paraded the group Genevieve derided outside of court as “the lackeys and shills” of Markov Enterprises. They worked hard to contradict the team image Nina and Winston had carefully built of Mike and Lindy’s management style. On cross-examination, Nina and Winston worked to rebuild it.