Moment Of Truth

'Perhaps,' Davis answered, though he had never thought of it that way.

'Well, I try to keep it the same. The rich retain power and money. The poor try to get it and lose. You even up the odds, and I keep them out of whack, the way my clients want them.' Videon eased back in his chair, his dark eyes scrutinizing Davis. 'You aren't comfortable with my honesty.'

'I'm comfortable with what pertains to the Newlin case,' Davis answered, impatient.

'Oh, but it does. Honor Newlin walked in with all the money and she wanted to walk out with it.' Videon turned

to his laptop and hit a key to scroll down. 'This year I saw Honor Newlin twice, including the day she was killed. I'll give you a copy of what I'm looking at, it's my time records. Besides the day she was murdered, I met with her on January fourth, the first business day after the New Year. She said her New Year's resolution was shedding Jack.'

Davis made a note. 'Back up a minute. She called you, for the first appointment?'

'Yes, naturally.'

'Tell me about it.'

'The first time, she told me she wanted a divorce.'

'Did she say why?'

'She felt her marriage was moribund. Things hadn't turned out the way she hoped. She had Vennui, la malaise, and other French things. She was a victim of empty mansion syndrome and expected Jack to fill the void, to ascend the ranks to managing partnerdom. But he wasn't, even with the Buxton dough. Why?' Videon glanced at Field, seeking neither permission nor approval. They used to say Jack was too much of a nice guy. That he didn't have the killer instinct. Hah! Perceptive, non?'

Field cleared his throat. That's quite enough, Marc.'

'I heard that Jack confessed to the police,' Videon said to Davis. 'Did he?'

'I can't comment.'

'Of course. What a perfect answer. How do they make people like you? So upright. You're the good guy. I always wanted to meet a good guy, but I'm a divorce lawyer. Did I mention that?' Videon smiled at a joke only he knew. 'As I was saying, Honor wanted the divorce, and she asked me, in our first meeting, to review her prenuptial agreement.' *

'She had a prenup?'

'Do I look stupid?'

'You drafted it?'

'I'm more than just a pretty face.'

'What did it provide?'

'What else? That if they divorce, Jack gets rien. Nothing. Squat.'

Davis made a note. 'Isn't that a conflict? I mean, you worked with Jack, so why would she come to you for a prenup?'

'Jack asked me to draft the damn thing, and it was completely against him. Go figure. The Foundation has since become one of our most valued clients, heh hen.'

'What's funny about that?' Davis asked, cranky, and Field looked miffed as well.

'Well, the Foundation is a private charity, as opposed to a public charity, like the Red Cross. That means there's virtually no oversight of the billings at all. It's even better than a corporate client because they watch the bills. The Buxton Foundation was a license to rape and plunder.'

Field gasped. 'Marc! Show some judgment!'

Videon scoffed. 'As if it weren't common knowledge.'

'It isn't,' Field said. 'Please excuse my partner -'

'- he knows not what he does/ Videon supplied, but Field was visibly agitated.

'That's quite enough, Marc. Please. Mr Davis, leave this subject or I end the interview.'

'Fine.' Davis nodded, though it confirmed his suspicions about the Foundation's value to Jack. 'You were saying, about the prenup.'

Videon sighed theatrically. 'Anyway, the prenup was sound and I told Honor so. She asked me to prepare the divorce papers and came in to review them with me the day she was murdered.'

'Did she get them that day?'

'Actually, no. There were two typos, both inconsequential, but she wouldn't wait for them to be corrected. I said we'd redo the papers and FedEx them to the house, but I got called into a meeting. I did have her sign the signature page for convenience.' Videon searched his desk, rifling through yellow slips that littered his desk like autumn

leaves. He produced a piece of white paper and handed it across the desk. 'Here.'

Davis skimmed the page. A standard verification, and at the bottom Honor's signature. Honor Buxton Newlin. Her handwriting was feminine, and Davis stared at it for a minute with sympathy. It was as if she had signed her own death warrant. He pondered its significance. 'If Honor had lived to divorce Jack, would he have stayed at the firm?'

Videon fingered his stiff goatee. 'Probably not.'

'Even though he was head of the estates department?'

'Big fucking deal.'

'Would he have been fired?'

'No, but he would have left on his own, public emasculation being an excellent incentive.'

'How so?'

'Honor told me she didn't want to deal with Jack on a day-to-day basis, on matters for the Foundation. The management and billings of the array of Buxton matters would have shifted to somebody else in the firm, probably Big Bill Whittier, because we'd be damned if we'd lose it. Jack would have been shit out of luck.'

Davis remembered his meeting with Whittier. He turned to Field. 'If Honor divorced Newlin and he lost the Buxton billings, his draw would be lowered by about a million dollars a year? Ballpark?'

'Yes,' Field answered.

Videon burst into laughter. 'Rags to riches and back again,' he said, but Davis was too intent to make light of it.

'Did Newlin have any other sources of income that you know of?'

'Not that I know of,' Field answered, and Videon looked incredulous. *

'Are you kidding?'

Davis considered it. 'So the only way Newlin could keep his job and his income from the Buxton billings was if Honor stayed married to him. Or if she died before she could divorce him.'

'I didn't say that,' Field said quickly, and Videon waved his hand.

Tm a witness. He didn't say that. If he said that, he'd get his ass sued.'

Davis tuned Videon out, putting his case together. It no longer mattered that Newlin didn't benefit under the will. A million dollars a year and preservation of career were more than enough for motive. Of course Newlin had planned to kill her, to keep the goodies. But Davis's premeditation theory worked only if Newlin had known the divorce was coming. He turned to Videon, who had finally stopped laughing. 'How often had they discussed divorce?'

'They hadn't discussed divorce at all.'

'What? Of course they had/ Davis said, and Videon smiled.

'How do you know?'

'I assumed it.'

'Mr Clean, you should know that "when we assume, we make an ass out of you and me." Camus said that. Or Sartre. Or my fourth-grade teacher.'

Davis still wasn't laughing. 'How could they not have discussed divorce?'

'They hadn't. I got the impression she had been thinking about it for a long time, then – boom – decided to do it. That would be Honor, impulsively destructive. She told me she was worried that Jack was thinking about it and she wanted to beat him to the punch. He had no idea she was planning to make the first move. She said she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when she told him.'

'Do you think she could have mentioned it to him on the phone, maybe that day?'

'She could have, but she wouldn't have. That's not Honor.'

Davis couldn't let it go. The state of Newlin's knowledge was the linchpin of his prosecution. Otherwise, the jury would buy Newlin's rage-at-the-divorce defense. 'It doesn't

stand to reason. People always talk about divorce for a long time before they file.'

'Another assumption, monfrere.' Videon shook his head. 'Some do, but many don't. It's more husband behavior than wife, but it happens with some wives, too. They avoid the issue until they have to, then do it. The perfect clean break. In fact, where there's family money involved, I always advise a preemptive strike to maintain the advantage. Eliminate the fight over the prenup, like Pearl Harbor before the divorce war.'