Waiting for Cary Grant by Mary Matthews Read Free Book Online Page B

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    She knew she shouldn’t care about an opponent. But she did. She left for Adam Banks’ deposition. Harlan wore an impenetrable gaze that revealed nothing.
    At his side, he had stacks of yellow legal pads and documents.
    Stephanie realized she knew little about the man who commanded all her senses to attention.
    “You’ve had your deposition taken numerous times?” He asked as an opening gambit to the distinguished looking gentleman who sat across the table.
    “Yes.” He watched Harlan warily. He wasn’t at all fooled by Harlan’s casual jeans, shirt and loafers-without-socks attire. Harlan was a deadly, dangerous opponent.
    Taylor Stanworth looked uncharacteristically pleased. The South of France seemed to agree with him. In France, he couldn’t complain about the coffee, the food, or the wine. Or the lack of culture or taste. Conversely, France could complain about him.
    Stephanie watched the deponent. An elegant gentleman, in the later years of his life, Adam Banks looked far removed from the carnage multipiece wheels left on the roadway. She couldn’t imagine him harming anyone. But before Kathy was even born, Safety Tire knew that multipiece wheels should be recalled. And they also knew that any recall could cost millions. They stood to lose a pile of money. The ease with which Safety Tire had manipulated The National Highway Traffic Safety Association’s investigation horrified even cynical lawyers. Money from Safety Tire’s European slush funds-garnered from kickbacks paid by their European suppliers-mysteriously landed in the coffers of a Committee to Reelect a President. The investigation closed days later without a recall. How convenient.
    “There may have been campaign contributions made by employees of Safety Tire at the time. Motivated solely by an altruistic concern for the welfare of our country.” Adam Banks spread his hands apart.
    “Weren’t the employee campaign contributions funded by Safety Tire?” Stephanie sat close enough to Harlan to sense his muscles tensing as he asked the question. His face revealed nothing. Access to Harlan Michaels was unavailable.
    “Well, employees are paid by Safety Tire funds.” Adam Banks said smugly.
    Smooth witness. Harlan Michaels had met his match. Their eyes met like wary lions. Winner take all.
    Stephanie looked at Harlan. His entire practice was built on cases like this. With each case, he didn’t know if he’d ever collect a penny. Yet his passion and zeal were unparalleled by the comfortably fat $500.00 an hour corporate lawyers. Harlan spent hours on a case, giving it his best, living and breathing it, unsure if he’d ever collect a penny on it. His entire practice was built on that uncertainty. Yet he never gave any less of himself. If anything he gave more, because he carried the hopes and dreams of each client on his shoulders. He was the proverbial knight in shining armor. And the armor was heavy.
    “Is it your testimony today that these Safety Tire employees made campaign contributions to the Committee to Reelect the President solely from paychecks?”
    “Uh. I don’t know. I don’t recall.” Came the unoriginal response.
    “Did you recall anything at the time you gave testimony before Congress?”
    So unflappable before, he flinched now, and his Riviera tan whitened.
    “Money was donated to the campaign. I don’t remember how exactly. You’re a young man. At my age, the memory starts to go with everything else.” He smiled with a charm that had wormed out of worse situations.
    It would take more than compliments to charm Harlan Michaels off a case. It would take settlement money. And a lot of it. He continued doggedly, determined to get testimony regarding what was obviously a well-compensated decision to avoid the recall of multipiece wheels.
    “From what source of company funds did the money come to cover the contributions to the Committee to Reelect the President?”
    “Look, I was never the Chief Financial Officer