She could not bring herself to console Frankie, even though she knew that Lee would have wanted her to pretend for the sake of appearances. Maybe two days ago she would have, but now she would not compromise herself, even if it meant that she would be the one who would face the wrath of her friends and family.
The next morning, Jen did not feel as resolute. The reality of Lee’s death and the way he had died began to dawn on her and an overwhelming sadness made her less determined about what she had to do.
The offices of Mazwai, Mantzel, Opilet and Associates were a few blocks away from Sharon’s rooms. They were beautifully appointed and occupied the third and fourth floors. What struck Jen most about the formality of the space was the informality and ease with which the employees negotiated their way around it. The atmosphere was busy but relaxed, and the people seemed friendly and welcoming, which eased her nerves.
Leonard Mazwai’s secretary collected her bang on time. She smiled, parting voluminous red lips that seemed to overwhelm the rest of her perfect facial features.
“Mrs Pearce, I’m Angie, Leonard’s secretary.” Jen stood up and they shook hands. “We’re on the next floor. Please follow me.”
Jen followed her into the lift. She had contemplated suggesting the stairs, but noticing the heels Angie was wearing, decided against it.
The fourth floor was much the same as the third. Next to the receptionist’s desk, which Angie occupied, were two office doors, one bearing Leonard’s name and the other Ron Opilet’s. Angie worked for both attorneys, it seemed.
Carpets soundproofed the clicking heels most of the women chose to wear. The firm’s brand colours were introduced in the cadet-grey and Oxford-blue cushions and the striped upholstery of the couches and office chairs. On one of the walls hung a Kentridge artwork◦– a charcoal and pastel drawing that Jen studied while she waited to be summoned into Leonard’s office. On the opposite wall were framed pictures of what Jen assumed were the company’s esteemed clients. She noticed some dignitaries among them and was impressed but also afraid at how much Mazwai, Mantzel, Opilet and Associates must charge per hour. She didn’t think being friends with Claudia or the fact that she was just a housewife would hold much sway over her final bill.
After she had filled out her personal details and read and signed the terms and conditions of the firm, she followed Angie to the boardroom. Angie pushed open the glass door and offered Jen a seat on one of the Philippe Starck chairs strategically placed around an antique mahogany table. In front of each chair were neat folders and pens bearing the law firm’s name, as well as water and a bowl of mints.
Jen was the sole occupant, and Angie enquired whether she would care for tea or coffee.
“A strong whisky,” she joked.
“That can be arranged, Mrs Pearce,” she winked. “Anything but narcotics.”
Jen laughed. She liked this Angie. “Well, good to know. I’ll start with a strong espresso. Double, please, Angie.”
Jen recognised Leonard Mazwai from the photographs on Claudia’s wall. He was exactly as they had portrayed him: tall and unbelievably handsome with his afro and black-framed glasses. He is also courteous, Jen thought as he stepped aside to allow Angie to exit before he entered the boardroom. Men in suits didn’t excite Jen but he looked dapper in charcoal, the pants tapered at the ankles and the jacket unbuttoned to reveal a finely striped purple shirt with a pin collar; the gold pin held a butter-yellow tie firmly in place. His look was accessorised with an antique Cartier wristwatch, which he glanced at before apologising for being a little late.
“I’m Leonard. I’ve heard so much about you that I feel I know you well.”
Jen shook his hand shyly. She wasn’t sure what he knew about her, but she did feel a little self-conscious. She adjusted her wrap dress to show less cleavage and in that instant she had a sudden flashback to her night with Myron, remembering that he and Leonard were friends. She blushed.
Leonard didn’t seem to notice, and he gestured for her to sit. “Listen, Jen, things seem to have unfolded at a rapid pace. Sharon said you’d like to file for divorce.”
“Yes,” Jen said. “I’d like you to work on an interim settlement.”
“Okay, we can talk about that in detail later.”
Jen nodded, holding her breath. It seemed that Leonard had much more on his mind that he wished to divulge.
“I’m really sorry to hear of the death of Lee Holms. He was a client of ours, so we are distraught, to say the least.”
“A client here?” Jen said confused. John, Lee and all their friends used Grant van Rooyen, an old friend and firmly entrenched Stellenbosch local, as their lawyer.
“Well, we are one of the firms that represent him, and this is where things have really ‘developed’, unbeknown to us. I hope that this isn’t a conflict of interest, but another person we represent is Patty Klein.” Jen looked back at Leonard blankly.
“Patty, your husband’s former employee?”
What? Jen shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure how this would be a conflict of interest unless I want to sue her, which I don’t. I want to sue my husband for a divorce. She happens to be one of his many, um, liaisons, and the fact that you represent her is a coincidence to say the least. Why would this be a conflict of interest?”
“Well, we have been instructed by Ms Patty Klein to approach you regarding a matter that involves you. She was instructed to oversee this matter by your late friend, Lee Holms.”
Jen didn’t have the foggiest notion what Leonard was going on about. She wasn’t registering what he was saying, and she wasn’t really interested for that matter. All she wanted was to get on with the discussions around her divorce and be done with Patty. She realised that she felt absolutely nothing for the woman; except perhaps minuscule gratitude. If not for Patty, she would still be the pitiful wife of John Pearce.
“You’re talking in riddles, Leonard. It’s been quite an emotional few days, so I’m not sure if it’s that or if I’m just plain stupid. I’m sorry, but I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say to me.”
“Jen, Patty is the one who delivered the photos of your husband to our offices. We didn’t know this up until this morning. She was instructed to do this by her employer, Lee Holms. Following his death, she now has the awkward task of handling his ‘business’ affairs, which coincidentally involves you.”
At that moment, Angie walked in with Jen’s espresso. Jen gulped it down, scalding her tongue.
Leonard waited until she’d finished before continuing. “I’m really asking your permission to allow Patty to speak with you. If you would prefer another lawyer to handle your divorce, then you are well within your rights. Patty, through Lee, was our client before you, though, so we are legally bound to her. We are able to represent you, but that is only if you do not feel that this will pose a conflict.”
Jen squared her shoulders; she needed to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.
“Leonard, I’m still confused. Patty is Lee’s employee? How can that be when, up until Sunday, she worked for my husband?”
“It is a little complicated, and that is why it’s best if she explains to you directly what has been going on and why she has been instructed to take care of her employer’s business, which, as I have said, involves you. When you asked me to represent you, I had absolutely no idea that Lee Holms was a friend, and even if he were, it would’ve been of no consequence, until his death yesterday.”
“God!” Jen exclaimed. “What ‘business’ could Lee have with me? And why do I have to deal with her? Can I not just deal with her lawyer?”