Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [92]
“No hard feelings?”
“No.”
“Who left whom?”
“It was sort of mutual, as I recall.”
“Whose idea was it to move out?”
“I guess . . . I don’t really remember. I guess it was mine.”
“So there was no awkwardness or tension about how the affair ended, ten years ago.”
“No.”
“And yet you felt there was awkwardness now?”
“Sure,” Sanders said. “Because we had one kind of relationship in the past, and now we were going to have another kind of relationship.”
“You mean, now Ms. Johnson was going to be your superior.”
“Yes.”
“Weren’t you angry about that? About her appointment?”
“A little. I guess.”
“Only a little? Or perhaps more than a little?”
Fernandez sat forward and started to protest. Murphy shot her a warning look. Fernandez put her fists under her chin and said nothing.
“I was a lot of things,” Sanders said. “I was angry and disappointed and confused and worried.”
“So in your mind, although you were feeling many different and confusing feelings, you’re certain that you did not, under any circumstances, contemplate having sex with Ms. Johnson that night.”
“No.”
“It never crossed your mind?”
“No.”
There was a pause. Heller shuffled his notes, then looked up. “You’re married, are you not, Mr. Sanders?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Did you call your wife to tell her you had a late meeting?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell her with whom?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“My wife is sometimes jealous about my past relationships. I didn’t see any reason to cause her anxiety or make her upset.”
“You mean, if you told her you were having a late meeting with Ms. Johnson, your wife might think that you would renew your sexual acquaintance.”
“I don’t know what she would think,” Sanders said.
“But in any case, you didn’t tell her about Ms. Johnson.”
“No.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I told her I had a meeting and I would be home late.”
“How late?”
“I told her it might run to dinner or after.”
“I see. Had Ms. Johnson suggested dinner to you?”
“No.”
“So you presumed, when you called your wife, that your meeting with Ms. Johnson might be a long one?”
“No,” Sanders said. “I didn’t. But I didn’t know exactly how long it would be. And my wife doesn’t like me to call once and say I’ll be an hour late, and then call again to say it’ll be two hours. That annoys her. So it’s easier for her if I just tell her I may be home after dinner. That way, she doesn’t expect me and doesn’t wait for me; and if I get home early, it’s great.”
“So this is your usual policy with your wife.”
“Yes.”
“Nothing unusual.”
“No.”
“In other words, your usual procedure is to lie to your wife about events at the office because in your view she can’t take the truth.”
“Objection,” Fernandez said. “What’s the relevance?”
“That’s not it at all,” Sanders continued, angrily.
“How is it, Mr. Sanders?”
“Look. Every marriage has its own way to work things out. This is ours. It makes things smoother, that’s all. It’s about scheduling at home, not about lying.”
“But wouldn’t you say that you lied when you failed to tell your wife you were seeing Ms. Johnson that night?”
“Objection,” Fernandez said.
Murphy said, “I think this is quite enough, Mr. Heller.”
“Your Honor, I’m trying to show that Mr. Sanders intended to consummate an encounter with Ms. Johnson, and that all his behavior is consistent with that. And in addition, to show that he routinely treats women with contempt.”
“You haven’t shown that, you haven’t even laid a groundwork for that,” Murphy said. “Mr. Sanders has explained his reasons, and in the absence of contrary evidence I accept them. Do you have contrary evidence?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Very well. Bear in mind that inflammatory and unsubstantiated characterizations do not assist our mutual efforts at resolution.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“I want everyone here to be clear: these proceedings are potentially damaging to all parties—not only in their outcome, but in the conduct of the proceedings themselves. Depending on the outcome, Ms. Johnson and Mr. Sanders may find themselves