Bertha unfolded the papers.
“Why— Why— Fry me for an oyster! Why, damn you for a...!”
Glimson held up his hand. “Just a moment, Mrs. Cool. Just a moment. Please let me explain.”
“Explain hell!” Bertha shouted at him. “This is a summons in the case of Mrs. Rolland B. Lidfield versus Esther Witson and Bertha Cool. What in hell do you mean?”
“Just a minute, Mrs. Cool. Just a minute. Please let me explain.”
Bertha whipped through the pages of the folded legal document. “Fifty thousand dollars!” she screamed. “Fifty... thousand... dollars!”
“Exactly,” Glimson said acidly. “And if you wish to remain hostile to me, Mrs. Cool, it is going to cost you fifty thousand dollars.”
Bertha was, for the moment, speechless.
Glimson went on smoothly, “Mrs. Cool, I am prepared to make you a proposition, a business proposition, which is why I brought the papers here myself.”
Glimson looked over at me and included me with an affable smile. “Now, Mrs. Cool,” he said soothingly, “we don’t really think that you were at all negligent. We think that Esther Witson is the one who was solely to blame for the accident.”
He beamed at Bertha Cool.
Bertha’s jaw was pushed forward like a prow of a battleship. “What’s your proposition?” she said ominously.
“Now, Mrs. Cool, you’re angry at me.”
“You’re damn right I’m angry at you,” Bertha screamed.
“Mrs. Cool, I’m not going to take any unfair advantage of you. I’m a lawyer and you’re not. I’m going to tell you exactly what the law is. It used to be considered that the exoneration of one tort-feasor exonerated the other. But that rule has now been changed — rather it has been clarified by our courts. The case of Ramsey versus Powers, 74 Cal. App. 621, holds that when a tort has been committed, and two or more parties are alleged by the plaintiff to have jointly committed the same...”
“What the hell do I care about tort-feasors?” Bertha interrupted.
“Don’t you see, Mrs. Cool? All that you have to do is to help us show that it really was Miss Witson who was at fault and that’s all there is to it. But there’s one peculiarity of the law, Mrs. Cool, and that is that in order to take a quick deposition as a matter of right, the person whose deposition is to be taken must be a party to the action. Now I don’t say that I made you a party to the action merely in order to take your deposition, Mrs. Cool, but I am going to tell you that I want to take your deposition right here at your office at three o’clock this afternoon. And if your testimony shows that the accident was all the fault of Esther Witson, we will ask the court to dismiss the case against you on the ground that there is no liability on your part.”
And Glimson beamed at her.
Bertha said, “Suppose this client of yours — what’s her name?”
“Mrs. Rolland B. Lidfield,” Glimson said.
“All right. Suppose Mrs. Lidfield was the one who was at fault?”
Glimson put long bony fingertips together. “Now, Mrs. Cool, I think you must have overlooked the significance of what I said to you just now. If the accident was occasioned by the negligence of Miss Witson, then we will move the court to dismiss the action...”
“What the hell is this, bribery or blackmail?” Bertha asked.
“My dear Mrs. Cool! My dear Mrs. Cool!”
“Don’t you my dear me,” Bertha said. “What the hell’s the idea of this thing anyway?”
“We want your deposition, Mrs. Cool. We feel that we are entitled to have your evidence perpetuated so that when the case comes up for trial we will know exactly what we have to contend with. In so many of these cases, Mrs. Cool, the evidence has a habit of jumping around. You’ll think you have a good case, and then when you get in court... But after all, Mrs. Cool, you are a woman of the world, and you understand these things.”
“I don’t understand a damn thing about it,” Bertha said, “except that I’m not going to be dragged into it. If you can show any negligence on my part, I’ll eat it!”
Glimson threw back his head and laughed. “You express it so quaintly, Mrs. Cool. But you’re going to feel rather foolish explaining in court why you gave the name Boskovitche!”
The telephone rang. I moved over to Elsie’s desk and answered it.
The voice that came over the wire was vibrant with eager excitement. “Hello, hello. Who is this?”
“Donald Lam talking.”
“Oh, Mr. Lam! This is Esther Witson. You know, the Miss Witson who was in that automobile accident, and who called...”
“Yes, I know.”
“I want to talk with Mrs. Cool.”
“She’s busy now. It might be better if she talked a little later.”
“But can’t she come to the telephone just long enough to...”
I said, “She’s busy now. It might be better if she called a little later.”
Esther Witson thought that over for a moment, then said, “Oh, you mean that she’s busy in connection with — something that has to do with that case?”
“Yes.”
She said, “I wonder if you could answer my questions, Mr. Lam.”
“I’ll try.”
“Is a hatchet-faced lawyer by the name of Glimson there?”
“Yes.”
“Talking with her now?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Mr. Lam, I wonder if you could get this message to Mrs. Cool. My lawyer said that Glimson is trying to make Mrs. Cool a party so he can take her deposition, and that if Mrs. Cool would agree to whatever it is that Glimson wants without committing herself as to what her testimony is going to be, it would be the best way to trap Glimson in what my lawyer says is sharp practice.”
I said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’ll come over a little later and explain things in detail,” she said.
“I’ll let you talk with Bertha,” I said, and motioned to Bertha.
“I’ll take it later,” Bertha said.
“Better listen to this, Bertha. You can make up your mind later, but listen now.”
Bertha moved over to the phone, said, “Hello,” then listened. After a while she said, “All right. Good-by,” and hung up.
She turned to Glimson. “Where do you want to take this deposition?”
He beamed at her. “We can take it right here, Mrs. Cool. I’ll have a notary who is also a shorthand court reporter move right in. It won’t inconvenience you at all, only a few minutes — a few simple questions...”
“What time?”
“I had suggested three o’clock, but...”
“All right,” Bertha snapped. “Make it three o’clock, and get the hell out of here so I can work.”
Glimson’s hand shot out. He shook my hand. He shook Bertha Cool’s hand. He nodded his head and backed out of the office still nodding.
“The dirty damned shyster,” Bertha said when the door closed on him.
I said, “Wait until after three o’clock this afternoon before you say anything. And you might start thinking over what you’re going to say. I think he may be an automobile lawyer.”
Bertha glowered at me. “Any time that bony-faced bastard thinks he can rattle me, he’s got another think coming. Automobile lawyer my foot! I’ll show him a thing or two.”
“It’s okay by me,” I said, and picked up the paper again.