The Runaway Jury 27 страница

The two million sounded like pocket change in light of the previous discussion, and it was approved by the ten. Nicholas wrote this on a form approved by Judge Harkin.

“Can the ten of us agree that punitive damages should be imposed, in some amount? ” He slowly went around the table and got a “Yes” from each. Mrs. Gladys Card hesitated. She could change her mind, but it would have no impact. Only nine votes were needed for a verdict.

“All right. Now, as to the amount of punitive damages. Any ideas? ”

“I have one, ” Jerry said. “Get everybody to write their amount on a piece of paper, fold it, keep it secret, then add them up and divide by ten. That way we'll see what the average is. ”

“Will it be binding? ” Nicholas asked.

“No. But it'll give us an idea of where we are. ”

The idea of a secret ballot was very appealing, and they quickly scribbled their numbers on scraps of paper.

Nicholas slowly unfolded each ballot and called the amounts to Millie, who wrote them down. One billion, one million, fifty million, ten million, one billion, one million, five million, five hundred million, one billion, and two million.

Millie did the math. “The total is three billion, five hundred sixty-nine million. Divide by ten, and the average is three hundred fifty-six million, nine hundred thousand. ”

It took a moment for the zeros to settle in. Lonnie jumped to his feet and walked by the table. “You people are crazy, ” he said just loud enough to be heard, then left the room, slamming the door.

“I can't do this, ” Mrs. Gladys Card said, visibly shaken. “I'm living on a pension, okay. It's a good pension, but I cannot fathom these numbers. ”

“The numbers are real, ” Nicholas said. “The company has eight hundred million in cash, equity of over a billion. Last year our country spent six billion on medical costs directly related to smoking, and the number goes up each year. The four largest tobacco companies had combined sales last year of almost sixteen billion. And their numbers are going up. You gotta think big, okay. These guys'll laugh at a five-million-dollar verdict. They won't change a thing, business as usual. Same ads directed at kids. Same lies to Congress. Same everything, unless we wake them up. ”

Rikki leaned forward on her elbows, and stared across the table at Mrs. Card. “If you can't do it, then leave with the rest of them. ”

“Don't taunt me. ”

“I'm not taunting. This take guts, okay. Nicholas is right. If we don't slap them in the face and bring them to their knees, nothing will change. These are ruthless people. ”

Mrs. Gladys Card was nervous and shaking and ready for a breakdown. “I'm sorry. I want to help, but I just can't do this. ”

“It's okay, Mrs. Card, ” Nicholas said, trying to soothe. The poor lady was distraught and needed a friend. Sure, things were fine as long as there were nine other votes. He could afford to be comforting; he just couldn't afford to lose another vote.

There was a silence as they waited to see if she would regroup or come unglued. She took a deep breath, jutted her chin forward, and found inner strength.

“Can I ask a question? ” Angel said in the direction of Nicholas, as if he were now the sole source of wisdom.

“Sure, ” he said, shrugging.

“What will happen to the tobacco industry if we bring back a big verdict, the kind we're talking about? ”

“Legally, economically, or politically? ”

“All. ”

He thought for a second or two, but was anxious to respond. “A lot of panic, initially. Lots of shock waves. Lots of scared executives worrying about what's next. They'll hunker down and wait to see if the trial lawyers flood them with litigation. They'll be forced to reexamine their advertising strategies. They won't go bankrupt, at least not in the near future, because they have so much money. They'll run to Congress and demand special laws, and I suspect Washington will treat them with less and less favor. In short, Angel, the industry will never be the same if we do what we should do. ”

“Hopefully, one day cigarettes will be outlawed, ” Rikki added.

“That, or the companies will not be financially able to manufacture them, ” said Nicholas.

“What will happen to us? ” Angel asked. “I mean, will we be in any danger? You said these people have been watching us since before the trial started. ”

“Naw, we'll be safe, ” Nicholas said. “They can't do anything to us. Like I said earlier, next week they won't remember our names. But everyone will remember our verdict. ”

Phillip Savelle returned and took his seat. “So what have you Robin Hoods decided now? ” he asked.

Nicholas ignored him. “We need to decide on an amount, folks, if we want to go home. ”

“I thought we'd made that decision, ” said Rikki.

“Do we have at least nine votes? ” Nicholas asked.

“For how much, may I ask? ” Savelle inquired in a mocking tone.

“Three hundred and fifty million, give or take a few, ” Rikki answered.

“Ah, the old distribution of wealth theory. Funny, you folks don't look like a bunch of Marxists. ”

“I have an idea, ” Jerry said. “Let's round it off to four hundred, half their cash. That shouldn't bankrupt them. They can tighten their belts, load up some more nicotine, hook some more kids, and, presto, they'll have the money back in a couple of years. ”

“Is this an auction? ” Savelle asked, and no one answered.

“Let's do it, ” Rikki said.

“Count the votes, ” Nicholas said, and nine hands went up. He then polled them by asking each of the other eight if they were voting to return a verdict of two million dollars in actual damages and four hundred million in punitive. Each of them said yes. He filled in the verdict form, and made each of them sign it.

Lonnie returned after a long absence.

Nicholas addressed him. “We've reached a verdict, Lonnie. ”

“What a surprise. How much? ”

“Four hundred and two million dollars, ” Savelle said. “Give or take a few million. ”

Lonnie looked at Savelle, then looked at Nicholas. “You're kidding? ” lie said, barely audible.

“Nope, ” Nicholas said. “It's true, and we have nine votes. Care to join? ”

“Hell no. ”

“Pretty incredible, ain't it? ” Savelle said. “And just think, well all be famous. ”

“This is unheard of, ” Lonnie said, leaning against the wall.

“Not really, ” Nicholas replied. “Texaco got hit with a ten-billion-dollar verdict a few years back. ”

“Oh, so this is a bargain? ” Lonnie said.

“No, ” Nicholas said, standing. “This is justice. ” He walked to the door, opened it, and asked Lou Dell to inform Judge Harkin that his jury was ready.

While they waited for a minute, Lonnie cornered Nicholas, and in a whisper asked, “Is there any way I can keep my name out of this? ” He was more nervous than angry.

“Sure. Don't worry. The Judge will poll us, ask us one at a time if this is our verdict. When he asks you, make sure everyone knows you had nothing to do with it. ”

“Thanks. ”

Forty-two

Lou Dell took the note as she had taken his previous ones and gave it to Willis, who walked down the hall, around the corner, and out of sight. He personally delivered it to His Honor, who at that moment was chatting on the phone, and anxious to hear the verdict. He heard verdicts all the time, but he had a hunch this one might have some pop to it. He felt sure he would one day preside over a grander civil trial, but one was hard to contemplate at the moment.

The note said: “Judge Harkin, Could you arrange for a deputy to escort me from the courthouse as soon as we're dismissed? I'm scared. I'll explain later. Nicholas Easter. ”

His Honor gave instructions to a deputy waiting outside his chambers, then strode purposefully through the door and into the courtroom, where the air seemed thick with trepidation. Lawyers, most of whom had been lounging around their offices not far away waiting for the call, were scurrying down the aisle, hustling to their seats, nerved up and wild-eyed. Spectators filtered in. It was almost eight o'clock.

“I have been informed that the jury has reached a verdict, ” Harkin said loudly into his microphone, and he could see the lawyers shaking. “Please bring in the jury. ”

They filed in with solemn faces, something jurors always do. Regardless of what good news they bearfor one side or the other, and regardless of how united they'might be, their eyes are always downcast, causing both sides to instinctively sink low and begin plans for appeal.

Lou Dell took the form from Nicholas, gave it to His Honor, who somehow managed to examine it while remaining remarkably straight-faced. He gave not the slightest hint of the shattering news he was holding. The verdict shocked him beyond reason, but procedurally there was nothing he could do. It was technically in order. There would be motions to reduce it later, but he was handcuffed now. He refolded it, gave it back to Lou Dell, who walked it over to Nicholas. He was standing and ready for the announcement.

“Mr. Foreman, read the verdict. ”

Nicholas unfolded his masterpiece, cleared his throat, glanced around quickly to see if Fitch was in the courtroom, and when he didn't see him, he read: “We, the jury, find for the plaintiff, Celeste Wood, and award compensatory damages in the amount of two million dollars. ”

This alone was a precedent. Wendall Rohr and his gang of trial lawyers breathed an enormous sigh of relief. They had just made history.

But the jury wasn't finished.

“And we, the jury, find for the plaintiff, Celeste Wood, and award punitive damages in the amount of four hundred million dollars. ”

From a lawyer's point of view, the receiving of a verdict approaches an art form. One cannot flinch or twitch. One cannot look around for either solace or jubilation. One cannot grab one's client to celebrate or to comfort. One must sit perfectly still, frown hard at a legal pad upon which one is writing, and act as though one knew precisely what the verdict would be.

The art form was desecrated. Cable slumped as if shot in the stomach. His comrades stared at the jury box with mouths gaping, air rushing out, eyes squinted in utter disbelief. An “Oh my god! ” was heard from somewhere among the second-tier defense lawyers behind Cable.

Rohr was all teeth as he quickly put his arm around Celeste Wood, who had started crying. The other trial lawyers clutched each other with quiet congratulations. Oh, the thrill of victory, the prospect of splitting forty percent of this verdict.

Nicholas sat down and patted Loreen Duke on the leg. It was over, finally over.

Judge Harkin was suddenly all business, as if it were just another verdict. “Now, ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to poll the jury. This means I will ask each of you individually if this is your verdict. I'll start with Ms. Loreen Duke. Please state clearly for the record whether or not you voted for this verdict. ”

“I did, ” she said proudly.

Some of the lawyers took notes. Some simply stared blankly into space.

“Mr. Easter? Did you vote in favor of this verdict? ”

“I did. ”

“Mrs. Dupree? ”

“Yes sir. I did. ”

“Mr. Savelle? ”

“I did not. ”

“Mr. Royce? Did you vote for this? ”

“I did. ”

“Ms. Weese? ” '" I did. ”

“Mr. Vu? ”

“I did. ”

“Mr. Lonnie Shaver? ”

Lonnie half-stood, said loudly “for the world to hear, “No sir, Your Honor, I did not vote for this verdict, and I disagree with it entirely. ”

“Thank you. Mrs. Rikki Coleman? Is this your verdict? ”

“Yes sir. ”

“Mrs. Gladys Card? ”

“No sir. ”

There suddenly arose a flicker of hope for Cable and Pynex and Fitch and the entire tobacco industry. Three jurors had now disclaimed the verdict. Only one more, and the jury would be sent back for more deliberations. Every trial judge could tell stories of juries whose verdicts disintegrated after they were delivered and while the polling took place. A verdict sounded much different in open court, with lawyers and clients watching, than it did only minutes earlier in the safety of the jury room.

But the slim prospect of a miracle was stamped out by the Poodle and Jerry. Both affirmed the verdict.

“Looks like the vote is nine to three, ” His Honor said. “Everything else appears to be in order. Anything, Mr. Rohr? ”

Rohr simply shook his head. He could not thank the jury now, though he would've loved to jump over the railing and kiss their feet. He sat smugly in his seat, one heavy arm around Celeste Wood.

“Mr. Cable? ”

“No sir, ” Cable managed to say. Oh, the things he'd love to tell the jurors, the idiots.

The fact that Fitch was not in the courtroom worried Nicholas immensely. His absence meant he was outside, somewhere in the dark, lurking and waiting. How much did Fitch know now? Probably too much. Nicholas was anxious to leave the courtroom, and get the hell out of town.

Harkin then began a windy thank-you, interspersed it with a rowsing dose of patriotism and civic duty, threw in every cliche he'd heard from the bench, warned them against talking to anybody about their deliberations and their verdict, said he could hold them in contempt of court if they breathed a word of what had happened in the jury room, and sent them away on their final journey to the motel to gather their things.

Fitch watched and listened from the viewing room next to his office. And he watched alone, the jury consultants having been fired hours earlier and sent back to Chicago.

He could snatch Easter, and this had been discussed at length with Swanson, who'd been told everything as soon as he arrived. But what good would it do? Easter wouldn't talk and they'd run the risk of a kidnapping charge. They had enough troubles without spending time in jail in Biloxi.

They decided to follow him, hoping he would lead them to the girl. Which, of course, posed another dilemma: What would they do with the girl if they found her? They couldn't report Marlee to the police. She'd made the magnificent decision to steal dirty money. What would Fitch tell the FBI in his sworn affidavit: that he gave her ten million dollars to deliver a verdict in a tobacco trial, and she had the nerve to double-cross him? Now would somebody please prosecute her?

Fitch was screwed at every turn.

He watched the video through the lens of Oliver McAdoo's hidden camera. The jurors stood, shuffled out, and the jury box was empty.

They gathered in the jury room to pick up books and magazines and knitting bags. Nicholas was in no mood for small talk. He slipped through the door, where Chuck, an old friend now, stopped him and told him the Sheriff was waiting outside.

Without a word to Lou Dell or Willis, or to any of the people he'd spent the last four weeks with, Nicholas hurriedly disappeared behind Chuck. They ducked out the back entrance, where the Sheriff himself was waiting behind the wheel of his big brown Ford.

“Judge said you needed some help, ” the Sheriff said from behind the wheel.

“Yeah. Get on Forty-nine north. I'll show you where to go. And make sure we're not followed. ”

“Okay. Who might be following you? ”

“Bad guys. ”

Chuck slammed the passenger door in the front, and they sped away. Nicholas took one last look at the jury room on the second floor. He saw Millie from the waist up, hugging Rikki Coleman.

“Don't you have things at the motel? ” the Sheriff asked.

“Forget it. I'll get them later. ”

The Sheriff radioed instructions for two cars to follow and make sure they were not being tailed. Twenty minutes later, as they raced through Gulf-port, Nicholas began pointing this way and that, and the Sheriff stopped by the tennis court of a large apartment complex north of town. Nicholas said this was fine, and got out.

“You sure you're okay? ” the Sheriff asked.

“I'm sure. I'll stay here with some friends. Thanks. ”

“Call me if you need help. ”

“Sure. ”

Nicholas disappeared into the night, and watched from a corner as the patrol car left. He waited by the pool house, a vantage point that enabled him to see all traffic to and from the apartment complex. He saw nothing suspicious.

His getaway car was brand-new, a rental Marlee had left there two days ago, one of three now abandoned in various parking lots on the outskirts of Biloxi. He safely made the ninety-minute drive to Hattiesburg while watching his rear the entire way.

The Lear was waiting at the Hattiesburg airport. Nicholas locked the keys in the car, and walked nonchalantly into the small terminal.

SOMETIME AFTER MIDNIGHT, he breezed through customs in George Town with fresh Canadian papers. There were no other passengers; the airport was practically deserted. Marlee met him by the baggage claim, and they embraced fiercely.

“Have you heard? ” he asked. They stepped outside, where the humid air hit hard.

“Yeah, it's all over CNN, ” she said. “Was that the best you could do? ” she asked with a laugh, and they kissed again.

, She drove toward George Town, through the empty winding streets, around the modern bank buildings clustered near the pier. “That's ours, ” she said, pointing to the Royal Swiss Trust building.

“Nice. ”

Later, they sat in the sand, at the edge of the water, splashing in the foam as the gentle waves broke across their feet. A few boats with dim lights inched along the horizon. The hotels and condos stood quiet behind them. They owned the beach for the moment.

And what a moment it was. Their four-year quest was now over. Their plans had finally worked, and to perfection. They'd dreamed of this night for so long, had been convinced countless times that it could never happen.

The hours drifted by.

THEY THOUGHT IT BEST if Marcus the broker never laid eyes on Nicholas. There was an excellent chance authorities might ask questions later, and the less Marcus knew, the better. Marlee presented herself to the Royal Swiss Trust receptionist promptly at nine, and was escorted upstairs where Marcus was waiting with many questions he couldn't ask. He offered coffee, then closed his door.

“The shorting of Pynex seems to have been an excellent trade, ” he said with a grin at his own talent for understatement.

“Seems so, ” she said. “Where will it open? ”

“Good question. I've been on the phone to New York, and things are quite chaotic. The verdict has stunned everyone. Except you, I guess. ” He wanted so badly to probe, but he knew there would be no answers. “There's a chance it might not open. They could suspend trading for a day or two. ”

She seemed to understand this perfectly. The coffee arrived. They sipped it as they reviewed yesterday's closings. At nine-thirty, Marcus slipped on his headset and focused on the two monitors on his side desk. “The market is open, ” he said, waiting.

Marlee listened intently while trying to appear calm. She and Nicholas wanted to make a quick killing, in and out, then be gone with the money to some faraway place they'd never seen before. She had to cover 160, 000 shares of Pynex, stock she was anxious to unload.

“It's suspended, ” Marcus said to his computer, and she flinched slightly. He punched digits and began a conversation with someone in New York. He mumbled numbers and points, then said to her, “They're offering it at fifty, and there are no buyers. Yes or no? ”

“No. ”

Two minutes passed. His eyes never left the screen. “It's on the board at forty-five. Yes or no? ”

“No. What about the others? ”

His fingers danced across the keyboard. “Wow. Trellco is down thirteen to forty-three. Smith Greer down eleven to fifty-three and a quarter. ConPack down eight to twenty-five. It's a bloodbath. The entire industry is getting shelled. ”

“Check Pynex. ”

“Still falling. Forty-two, with a few small buyers. ”

“Buy twenty thousand shares at forty-two, ” she said, looking at her notes.

A few seconds passed before he said, “Confirmed. Up to forty-three. They're paying attention up there. I'd keep it under twenty thousand shares next time. ”

Less commissions, the Marlee/Nicholas partnership had just made $740, 000.

“Back down to forty-two, ” he said.

“Buy twenty thousand shares at forty-one, ” she said.

A minute later he said, “Confirmed. ”

Another $760, 000 in profits.

“Steady at forty-one, now a half up, ” he said like a robot. “They saw your buy. ”

“Is anybody else buying? ” she asked.

“Not yet. ”

“When will they start? ”

“Who knows? But soon, I think. This company has too much cash to go under. Book value per share is around seventy. It's a steal at fifty. I'd tell all my clients to jump in now. ”

She bought another twenty thousand shares at forty-one, then waited half an hour to buy twenty thousand at forty. When Trellco fell to forty, down sixteen, she bought twenty thousand shares, for a profit of $320, 000.

The quick kill was happening. She borrowed a phone at ten-thirty and called Nicholas, who was glued to the TV, watching it all unfold on CNN. They had a crew in Biloxi trying to get interviews from Rohr and Cable and Harkin, from Gloria Lane or anybody who might know something. No one wanted to talk to them. Nicholas was also watching stock quotes on a financial news channel.

Pynex found its bottom an hour after it opened.

Takers were found at thirty-eight, at which point Marlee dumped the remaining eighty thousand shares.

When Trellco found resistance at forty-one, she bought forty thousand shares. She was out of the Trellco business. With the bulk of her trades covered, and covered quite brilliantly, Marlee was less inclined to hang around and be greedy with the other stocks. She worked hard at being patient. She had rehearsed this plan many times, and the opportunity would never again be hers.

A few minutes before noon, with the market still in disarray, she covered the remaining shares of Smith Greer. Marcus removed his headset and wiped his forehead.

“Not a bad morning, Ms. MacRoland. You've netted over eight million, less commissions. ” A printer hummed quietly on the desk, spewing out confirmations.

“I want the money wired to a bank in Zurich. ”

“Our bank? ”

“No. ” She handed him a sheet of paper with wiring instructions.

“How much? ” he asked.

“All of it, minus, of course, your commissions. ”

“Certainly. I assume this is a priority. ”

“Immediately, please. ”

SHE PACKED QUICKLY. He watched because he had nothing to pack, nothing but two golf shirts and a pair of jeans he'd purchased at a dive shop in the hotel. They promised each other new wardrobes at their next destination. Money would not be a factor. They flew, first class, to Miami, where they waited two hours before boarding a flight to Amsterdam.

The in-flight news service in first class featured none other than CNN and Financial News. They watched with great amusement as the verdict got covered in Biloxi while Wall Street ran in circles. Experts popped up everywhere. Law professors made fearless predictions about the future of tobacco liability. Stock analysts offered myriad opinions, each in sharp contrast to the preceding one. Judge Harkin had no comment. Cable could not be found. Rohr finally emerged from his office and took full credit for the victory. No one knew of Rankin Fitch, which was a shame because Marlee wanted so badly to see his suffering face.

In hindsight, her timing was perfect. The market bottomed soon after it crashed, and by the end of the day Pynex was holding steady at forty-five.

From Amsterdam, they flew to Geneva, where they leased a hotel suite for a month.

Forty-three

Fitch left Biloxi three days after the verdict. He returned to his home in Arlington and to his routine in Washington. Though his future as director of The Fund was in doubt, his anonymous little firm had plenty of nontobacco work to keep it busy. Nothing, though, that paid like The Fund.

A week after the verdict, he met with Luther Vandemeer and D. Martin Jankle in New York, and confessed every detail of the deal with Marlee. It was not a pretty meeting.

He also conferred with a collection of ruthless New York lawyers on how best to attack the verdict. The fact that Easter had vanished immediately was grounds for suspicion. Herman Grimes had already agreed to release his medical records. There was no evidence of an imminent heart attack. He'd been fit and healthy until that morning. He remembered an odd taste to his coffee, then he was on the floor. Retired Colonel Frank Herrera had already given an affidavit in which he swore the unauthorized materials found under his bed were not placed there by him. He'd had no visitors. Mogul was not sold anywhere near the motel. The mystery surrounding the verdict swirled more each day.

The New York lawyers did not know about the Marlee deal, nor would they ever.

Cable had prepared and was almost ready to file a motion requesting permission to interview the jurors, an idea Judge Harkin seemed to like. How else could they find out what had gone on in there? Lon-nie Shaver was particularly anxious to tell all. He'd received his promotion and was ready to defend corporate America.

There was hope for the post-trial efforts. The appellate process would be long and arduous.

As for Rohr and the group of trial lawyers who'd funded the case, the future was filled with unbounded opportunity. A staff was organized just to handle the flood of calls from other lawyers and potential victims. An 800 number was implemented. Class actions were being considered.

Wall Street seemed more sympathetic to Rohr than to the tobacco industry. In the weeks following the verdict, Pynex couldn't top fifty, and the other three were down at least twenty percent. Antismok-ing groups openly predicted the bankruptcy and eventual demise of the tobacco companies.

SIX WEEKS after he left Biloxi, Fitch was eatingr lunch alone in a tiny Indian diner near Dupont Circle in D. C. He huddled over a bowl of spicy soup, still wearing his overcoat because it was snowing outside and chilly inside.

She dropped in from nowhere, just appeared like an angel, the same way she'd emerged on the roof top terrace of the St. Regis in New Orleans, over two months earlier. “Hi, Fitch, ” she said, and he dropped his spoon.

He glanced around the dark restaurant, saw nothing but small groups of Indians huddled over steaming bowls, not another spoken word of English within forty feet.

“What are you doing here? ” he said without moving his lips. Her face was lined with the fur from her coat. He remembered how pretty she was. The hair seemed even shorter. “Just dropped in to say hello. ”

“You've said it. ”

“And the money is being returned to you, even as we speak. I'm wiring it back to your account at Hanwa, in the Netherlands Antilles. All ten million, Fitch. ”

He could think of no quick response to this. He was looking at the lovely face of the only person who'd ever beaten him. And she still had him guessing. “How kind of you, ” he said.

“I started to give it away, you know, like to some of those antismoking groups. But we decided against it. ”

“We? How's Nicholas? ”

“I'm sure you miss him. ”

“Deeply. ”

“He's fine. ”

“So you're together? ”

“Of course. ”

“Thought you probably just took the money and ran from everybody, including him. ”

“Come on, Fitch. ”

“I don't want the money. ”

“Great. Give it to the American Lung Association. ”

“That's not my kinda charity. Why are you returning the money? ”

“It's not mine. ”

“So you've found ethics and morals, maybe even God. ”

“Skip the lecture, Fitch. It sounds rather hollow coming from you. I never planned to keep the money. I just wanted to borrow it. ”

“If you're gonna lie and cheat, why not go ahead and steal? ”

“I'm not a thief. I lied and I cheated because that's what your client understands. Tell me, Fitch, did you find Gabrielle? ”

“Yes, we did. ”

“And did you find her parents? ”

“We know where they are. ”

“Do you understand now, Fitch? ”

“It makes more sense, yes. ”

“They were both wonderful people. They were intelligent and vigorous and they loved life. They both got hooked on cigarettes when they were in college, and I watched them fight the habit until they died. They hated themselves for smoking, but could never give it up. They died horrible deaths, Fitch. I watched them suffer and shrivel and gasp for breath until they couldn't breathe anymore. I was their only child, Fitch. Did your goons learn this? ”

“Yes. ”

“My mother died at home, on the sofa in the den because she couldn't walk to her bedroom. Just Mother and I. ” She paused and glanced around. Fitch noticed her eyes were remarkably clear. Sad as it must have been, he could muster no sympathy.

“When did you set this plan in motion? ” he asked, finally taking a spoonful of soup.

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