Covering the mouthpiece of the phone, Parker gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm probably worrying needlessly. Merely because the man's incompetent doesn't mean he isn't a legitimate attorney." A moment later, however, when Howard returned to the phone, Parker's smile faded. "He's not on the roster? You're certain?" For a moment Parker was lost in thought, then he said, "Could you get ahold of a current roster for the American Bar Association and see if he's listed there?" He paused, listening, then he said with forced joviality, "No, it's not an emergency. Tomorrow will be fine. Give me a call at my office and we'll set up the squash game then too. Thanks, Howard. Give my love to Helen."
Lost in his own thoughts, Parker slowly replaced the phone on its cradle.
"I don't think I understand what you're worrying about," Meredith said.
"I think I'd like another drink," he announced, getting up and walking over to the liquor cabinet.
"Parker," Meredith said firmly, "since this involves me, I think I have a right to know what you're thinking."
"At this moment I'm thinking of several known cases of men who set themselves up as attorneys—usually in poorer neighborhoods—and who took money from clients who believed they were going to handle legal work for them. One of the cases involved a man who was actually an attorney, but who pocketed the filing fees charged by the courts and who then 'granted' his clients an uncontested divorce by simply signing the document himself."
"How could he do that?"
"Lawyers draw up the petitions for divorce. Judges merely sign them. He signed the judge's name to them."
"But how could he—they—get away with that?"
"They got away with it by handling only uncontested matters, including divorces."
Meredith swallowed half her drink without realizing what she was doing, then she brightened. "But surely in those instances, when both parties acted in good faith, then the courts would honor the divorce decrees even though they weren't filed?"
"Like hell they did."
"I don't like the tone of this conversation," Meredith said, feeling a little woozy from the potent drink. "What did the courts do about those people who thought they were divorced?"
"If they'd remarried, the courts allowed them to be innocent of bigamy."
"Good."
"But the second marriage was invalidated and the first one had to be dissolved through the proper channels."
"Dear God!" Meredith said, and sank into a chair. But she knew in her heart, she absolutely knew her divorce was legal and valid. She knew it because the alternative was unthinkable.
Belatedly realizing how upset she was, Parker reached out and gently ran his hand over her silky hair.
"Even if Spyzhalski doesn't belong to the bar, even if he's never been to law school, your divorce could still be legitimate—so long as he presented that absurd divorce petition to a judge and somehow got it signed." She glanced up at him and her eyes were the same lovely blue-green as the sweater and slacks she wore—only darker now, and troubled. "I'll have someone go over to the courthouse tomorrow and try to find out if the divorce was filed and recorded. As long as it was, there's nothing more to worry about."
Chapter 23
"Bad night?" Phyllis asked her the next morning as Meredith walked past her desk with an absentminded nod.
"It wasn't the greatest. What's on my calendar this morning?"
"You have a meeting here with the advertising division at ten o'clock to discuss the grand opening for the New Orleans store. Jerry Keaton in personnel asked to see you about some raises you need to approve, and I told him you could see him at eleven. Is that okay?"
"Fine."
"And at eleven-thirty Ellen Perkvale from legal needs to discuss a lawsuit that's just been filed against us. It pertains to a lady who claims she broke a tooth in the Clarendon Room."
Meredith rolled her eyes in disgust. "She's suing us because she broke her tooth while eating in our dining room?"
"Not exactly. She's suing us because she broke it on a nutshell that was in her trout amandine."
"Oh," Meredith said, unlocking her desk and accepting the likelihood of having to reach a settlement. "That changes matters."
"True. Is eleven-thirty okay for that meeting?"
"Fine," Meredith replied as the phone on her desk began to ring. "I'll get it," Phyllis said, and the day launched itself with the usual frenetic rush of store business that Meredith sometimes found exhausting yet always exhilarating. Occasionally, she had a moment to herself, and when that happened, she found herself staring at the phone, willing Parker to call and to say there was absolutely nothing amiss with her divorce.
It was nearly five o'clock when Phyllis finally said that Parker was on the phone. Racked with sudden tension, Meredith snatched the receiver from its cradle. "What did you find out?" she asked him.
"Nothing conclusive yet," he replied, but there was a new, strained quality to his voice. "Spyzhalski isn't a member of the ABA. I'm waiting to hear from someone at the CookCounty courthouse. He'll call me with the information I've asked for as soon as he has it. I'll know exactly where we stand within the next few hours. Are you going to be home tonight?"
"No," she sighed, "I'll be at my father's. He's giving a small birthday party for Senator Davies. Call me there."
"I will."
"The moment you get your answers?"
"I promise."
"The party will break up early because Senator Davies has to leave for Washington on a midnight flight, so if I've already left, call me at home."
"I'll find you, don't worry."
Chapter 24
Trying not to worry became increasingly impossible as the evening wore on. Half convinced she was agonizing over nothing, and yet unable to quell her mounting sense of alarm, Meredith managed to smile and nod and be reasonably gracious to her father's guests, but it took a supreme effort. Dinner had been over for an hour, and still Parker hadn't phoned. Trying to distract herself, she lingered in the dining room, supervising the clearing of the table, then she wandered into the library, where the guests had gathered for a brandy before leaving for their homes.
Someone had turned on the television and several of the men were standing near it, watching the news. "Lovely party, Meredith," Senator Davies's wife said, but the rest of her words seemed to vanish into the nether as Meredith heard the television commentator say, "Another Chicagoan was in the news today—Matthew Farrell was Barbara Walters's guest on a taped broadcast earlier this evening. Among other things, he commented on the recent rash of corporate takeovers. Here's a clip from that interview ..."
Lost in his own thoughts, Parker slowly replaced the phone on its cradle.
"I don't think I understand what you're worrying about," Meredith said.
"I think I'd like another drink," he announced, getting up and walking over to the liquor cabinet.
"Parker," Meredith said firmly, "since this involves me, I think I have a right to know what you're thinking."
"At this moment I'm thinking of several known cases of men who set themselves up as attorneys—usually in poorer neighborhoods—and who took money from clients who believed they were going to handle legal work for them. One of the cases involved a man who was actually an attorney, but who pocketed the filing fees charged by the courts and who then 'granted' his clients an uncontested divorce by simply signing the document himself."
"How could he do that?"
"Lawyers draw up the petitions for divorce. Judges merely sign them. He signed the judge's name to them."
"But how could he—they—get away with that?"
"They got away with it by handling only uncontested matters, including divorces."
Meredith swallowed half her drink without realizing what she was doing, then she brightened. "But surely in those instances, when both parties acted in good faith, then the courts would honor the divorce decrees even though they weren't filed?"
"Like hell they did."
"I don't like the tone of this conversation," Meredith said, feeling a little woozy from the potent drink. "What did the courts do about those people who thought they were divorced?"
"If they'd remarried, the courts allowed them to be innocent of bigamy."
"Good."
"But the second marriage was invalidated and the first one had to be dissolved through the proper channels."
"Dear God!" Meredith said, and sank into a chair. But she knew in her heart, she absolutely knew her divorce was legal and valid. She knew it because the alternative was unthinkable.
Belatedly realizing how upset she was, Parker reached out and gently ran his hand over her silky hair.
"Even if Spyzhalski doesn't belong to the bar, even if he's never been to law school, your divorce could still be legitimate—so long as he presented that absurd divorce petition to a judge and somehow got it signed." She glanced up at him and her eyes were the same lovely blue-green as the sweater and slacks she wore—only darker now, and troubled. "I'll have someone go over to the courthouse tomorrow and try to find out if the divorce was filed and recorded. As long as it was, there's nothing more to worry about."
Chapter 23
"Bad night?" Phyllis asked her the next morning as Meredith walked past her desk with an absentminded nod.
"It wasn't the greatest. What's on my calendar this morning?"
"You have a meeting here with the advertising division at ten o'clock to discuss the grand opening for the New Orleans store. Jerry Keaton in personnel asked to see you about some raises you need to approve, and I told him you could see him at eleven. Is that okay?"
"Fine."
"And at eleven-thirty Ellen Perkvale from legal needs to discuss a lawsuit that's just been filed against us. It pertains to a lady who claims she broke a tooth in the Clarendon Room."
Meredith rolled her eyes in disgust. "She's suing us because she broke her tooth while eating in our dining room?"
"Not exactly. She's suing us because she broke it on a nutshell that was in her trout amandine."
"Oh," Meredith said, unlocking her desk and accepting the likelihood of having to reach a settlement. "That changes matters."
"True. Is eleven-thirty okay for that meeting?"
"Fine," Meredith replied as the phone on her desk began to ring. "I'll get it," Phyllis said, and the day launched itself with the usual frenetic rush of store business that Meredith sometimes found exhausting yet always exhilarating. Occasionally, she had a moment to herself, and when that happened, she found herself staring at the phone, willing Parker to call and to say there was absolutely nothing amiss with her divorce.
It was nearly five o'clock when Phyllis finally said that Parker was on the phone. Racked with sudden tension, Meredith snatched the receiver from its cradle. "What did you find out?" she asked him.
"Nothing conclusive yet," he replied, but there was a new, strained quality to his voice. "Spyzhalski isn't a member of the ABA. I'm waiting to hear from someone at the CookCounty courthouse. He'll call me with the information I've asked for as soon as he has it. I'll know exactly where we stand within the next few hours. Are you going to be home tonight?"
"No," she sighed, "I'll be at my father's. He's giving a small birthday party for Senator Davies. Call me there."
"I will."
"The moment you get your answers?"
"I promise."
"The party will break up early because Senator Davies has to leave for Washington on a midnight flight, so if I've already left, call me at home."
"I'll find you, don't worry."
Chapter 24
Trying not to worry became increasingly impossible as the evening wore on. Half convinced she was agonizing over nothing, and yet unable to quell her mounting sense of alarm, Meredith managed to smile and nod and be reasonably gracious to her father's guests, but it took a supreme effort. Dinner had been over for an hour, and still Parker hadn't phoned. Trying to distract herself, she lingered in the dining room, supervising the clearing of the table, then she wandered into the library, where the guests had gathered for a brandy before leaving for their homes.
Someone had turned on the television and several of the men were standing near it, watching the news. "Lovely party, Meredith," Senator Davies's wife said, but the rest of her words seemed to vanish into the nether as Meredith heard the television commentator say, "Another Chicagoan was in the news today—Matthew Farrell was Barbara Walters's guest on a taped broadcast earlier this evening. Among other things, he commented on the recent rash of corporate takeovers. Here's a clip from that interview ..."
