Found Money - James Grippando [101]
“No, Your Honor,” announced Norm. “No cross.”
“Mr. Jackson. Your next witness, please. And remember,” he said, smiling thinly. “If you don’t tie this together, there’s a nice cold cell waiting for you.”
“I’m confident I’ll be sleeping in my own bed tonight, your honor. The petitioner calls Brent Langford.”
Norm rose, speaking in his most apologetic tone. “Your Honor, I took your admonition on the telephone yesterday very seriously. We tried to bring Mr. Langford here. We called him repeatedly, never getting a response. Despite our most diligent efforts—”
He stopped in midsentence. All heads turned as the doors swung open in the rear of the courtroom. Brent was coming down the aisle. Norm and Ryan exchanged glances. The looks on their faces made it clear: This could not be good.
Brent’s footsteps echoed in the near-empty courtroom. He stepped through the swinging gate that separated the lawyers from the gallery, keeping his eyes straight ahead, looking at no one. His face was strained with concentration, even before he’d uttered a word. He looked like a school kid before an exam, trying to remember all the right answers.
As the bailiff administered the oath, Ryan could barely stomach the sight. There was Brent, promising to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Ryan had been there the last time Brent had staked his sacred honor before God and witnesses—a deadbeat pledging to love, honor, and cherish a woman he had beaten before and would beat again. Vows meant nothing to Brent. Nor did oaths.
“Mr. Langford, please state your name.”
“Brent Langford.”
“You are Dr. Duffy’s brother-in-law, correct?”
The judge interjected again, louder. “Stipulations, Mr. Jackson, stipulations. I don’t need the family history.”
“Yes, Judge. Mr. Langford, you were served with a subpoena to appear at a deposition in this case, were you not?”
“Yes, I was. At my house in Piedmont Springs, last Tuesday afternoon.”
“And it was your understanding that the person responsible for issuing that subpoena was me, correct?”
“That was my understanding.”
“What did you do after the subpoena was served?”
He shrugged. “I’ll be honest. I wasn’t happy about it.”
“Did you talk to anyone about it?”
“My wife.”
“Anyone else?”
“Yes. Dr. Duffy.”
Ryan’s eyes widened. He knew Brent was a liar. He had no idea how big a liar. He quickly scribbled a note to Norm: This is bull!
“How did that conversation come about?”
“Ryan called me that night on the telephone.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said, ‘Brent, this deposition can’t happen. There’s too much at stake.’”
“Meaning what?”
“Objection,” said Norm, rising. “Calls for speculation.”
“Let me rephrase,” said Jackson. “What did you understand him to say?”
“Same objection,” said Norm.
The judge leaned forward. “There’s no jury in this proceeding, Mr. Klusmire. Let’s hear the evidence. The witness shall answer.”
“It was my impression that he had some serious money he didn’t want Liz to find out about.”
“How did you get that impression?”
“Because Sarah told me about it.”
“Objection,” Norm shouted. “Judge, now we’re moving from speculation to hearsay.”
“Sustained. Mr. Langford, you can tell us what you know firsthand, and you can tell us anything Dr. Duffy may have told you. But don’t go telling us things other people may have said.”
Brent replied in his most respectful tone. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Jackson continued, “Mr. Langford, are you sure it was your wife who told you about the money? Or was it Dr. Duffy, himself?”
“Objection. This is ridiculous. He’s coaching the witness right on the stand.”
“Overruled.”
“Come to think of it,” said Brent, “it might very well have been Ryan who told me about the money. Yeah. It was Ryan. Definitely.”
“Good,” said Jackson. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, I’d like to get a little more specific about this money Dr. Duffy wanted to keep from his wife. Do you know if that money was ever kept in any kind of suitcase or storage container that had a combination lock?”
“I don’t know.