Disclosure_ A Novel - Michael Crichton [93]
No one did.
“All right. Mr. Heller?”
Heller sat back. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
“All right,” Judge Murphy said. “We’ll break for five minutes, and return to hear Ms. Johnson’s version.”
You’re doing fine,” Fernandez said. “You’re doing very well. Your voice was strong. You were clear and even. Murphy was impressed. You’re doing fine.” They were standing outside, by the fountains in the courtyard. Sanders felt like a boxer between rounds, being worked over by his trainer. “How do you feel?” she asked. “Tired?”
“A little. Not too bad.”
“You want coffee?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Good. Because the hard part is coming up. You’re going to have to be very strong when she gives her version. You won’t like what she says. But it’s important that you stay calm.”
“Okay.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “By the way, just between us: How did the relationship end?”
“To tell the truth, I can’t remember exactly.”
Fernandez looked skeptical. “But this was important, surely. . .”
“It was almost ten years ago,” Sanders said. “To me, it feels like another lifetime.”
She was still skeptical.
“Look,” Sanders said. “This is the third week in June. What was going on in your love life the third week of June, ten years ago? Can you tell me?”
Fernandez was silent, frowning.
“Were you married?” Sanders prompted.
“No.”
“Met your husband yet?”
“Uh, let’s see . . . no . . . not until . . . I must have met my husband . . . about a year later.”
“Okay. Do you remember who you were seeing before him?”
Fernandez was silent. Thinking.
“How about anything that happened between you and a lover in June, ten years ago?”
She was still silent.
“See what I mean?” Sanders said. “Ten years is a long time. I remember the affair with Meredith, but I’m not clear about the last few weeks of it. I don’t remember the details of how it ended.”
“What do you remember?”
He shrugged. “We had more fights, more yelling. We were still living together, but somehow, we began to arrange our schedules so that we never saw each other. You know how that happens. Because when we did run into each other, we fought.
“And finally one night, we had a big argument while we were getting dressed to go to a party. Some formal party for DigiCom. I remember I had to wear a tux. I threw my cuff links at her and then I couldn’t find them. I had to get down on the floor and look. But once we were driving to the party, we sort of calmed down, and we started talking about breaking up. In this very ordinary way. Very reasonable way. It just came out. Both of us. Nobody shouted. And in the end, we decided it was best if we broke it off.”
Fernandez was looking at him thoughtfully. “That’s it?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Except we never got to the party.”
Something at the back of his mind. A couple in a car, going to a party. Something about a cellular phone. All dressed up, going to the party and they make a call, and—
He couldn’t get it. It hung in his memory, just beyond recollection.
The woman made a call on the cellular phone, and then . . . Something embarrassing afterward . . .
“Tom?” Fernandez said, shaking his shoulder. “Looks like our time is about up. Ready to go back?”
“I’m ready,” he said.
As they were heading back to the mediation room, Heller came over. He gave Sanders an oily smile, then turned to Fernandez. “Counselor,” he said. “I wonder if this is the time to talk about settlement.”
“Settlement?” Fernandez said, showing elaborate surprise. “Why?”
“Well, things aren’t going so well for your client, and—”
“Things are going fine for my client—”
“And this whole inquiry will only get more embarrassing and awkward for him, the longer it continues—”
“My client isn’t embarrassed at all—”
“And perhaps it is to everyone’s advantage to end it now.”
Fernandez smiled. “I don’t think that