Cracks in the Sidewalk (15 page)

“Walter’s your guy. Walter Petrecca. You gotta tell him I sent you else he plays it straight and narrow, you get what I mean?”

“Yeah. He sounds like what I’m looking for.”

Jeffrey’s next call was to Walter Petrecca. “Harry Hornzy suggested I call. I’ve got a problem, and I need a lawyer.”

“What kinda problem? Assault? Break and enter? Car jack—”         

“No, no, nothing like that. It’s a custody battle.”

“Custody? That’s a family dispute. I do criminal law.”

“You gotta help me,” JT said, desperation threading his voice. “My wife’s using her family to bury me. I need somebody vicious enough to destroy the bitch.”

“Oh,” Petrecca said. “One of those. My ex, she’s the same.”

“Okay, so you know what I mean.”

“Yeah. I feel for ya, but I still don’t do family law. If you want, I’ll give you the name of the lawyer who handled my divorce. It’s a woman, but don’t let that fool you. This one’s a killer. My ex wanted the house plus one-hundred-thou alimony. Noreen whacked her down to ten.”

That was enough to convince JT. He took Noreen Sarnoff’s telephone number and called her next.

~ ~ ~

On Friday morning Jeffrey Caruthers met with Noreen, a six-foot-tall blonde with razor sharp features. He handed her the notice he’d received, along with a check for eight thousand dollars.

“I trust you can take care of this,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow as if to question his doubt. “Isn’t that what you’re paying me for?”

They rehashed Jeffrey’s reasons for not allowing the children to visit their mother. Noreen studied the Motion to Compel Visitation.

“Looks like this is going to Judge Brill,” she said. “He’s a softie. The probability is he’ll be sympathetic to the dying mother.”

“What kind of crap is that?” Jeffrey snapped. “Elizabeth’s dying! She’s got a brain tumor! That’s one step away from being a vegetable. How can anybody have sympathy for a vegetable?”

“Hold on a minute. Are you saying your wife is incapable of recognizing or conversing with the children?”

JT shrugged. “She’s probably not that bad.”

Noreen again raised her eyebrow. “Okay, let’s clarify this. Is there any actual medical proof your wife is incoherent, mentally incompetent, or violent enough to cause physical damage?”

He shook his head.

“Too bad,” Noreen replied. “That would have given us a real edge.”

JT smiled. Petrecca was right: she was a killer.

When Jeffrey left Noreen Sarnoff’s office the corners of his mouth had turned up and he was whistling.

~ ~ ~

T
wo days later Noreen telephoned Jeffrey at home.

“I spoke to your wife’s doctor,” she said. “A Rebecca Sorenson. She acknowledged that Elizabeth’s tumor has been diagnosed as terminal but also indicated that the chemotherapy treatment your wife is undergoing has resulted in a marked improvement. According to Sorenson Elizabeth still suffers from left-side paralysis and occasional memory lapses, but otherwise she’s perfectly coherent and capable of restricted motion activities. In fact, she suggested that seeing the children would be extremely beneficial for Elizabeth.”

“Of course she’d think that, she’s being paid by—” 

“Regardless,” Noreen interrupted. “The bottom line is Doctor Sorenson can hurt, but not help, your case.”

“So what do we do?”

“We find our own medical expert, someone who’s more attuned to our way of thinking. And we have to do more than answer your wife’s motion. We need to go back at her with an aggressive counter complaint.”

“For what?”

“We’ll file a motion requesting sole legal custody of all three children based on her limited life expectancy. That will give you the authority to make decisions concerning what is or isn’t in the best interest of the children.”

“Sole legal custody,” JT repeated. “That’s good, real good.”

F
ive days later Claire McDermott stood at the front door of her house and signed for the registered letter sent from the family law division of the Union County Court. Even before she’d closed the door, Claire could sense bad news seeping through the paper. Registered letters were almost always bad news. Friendly mail waited in a mailbox until a person had time for it. Bad news was something Elizabeth could do without, Claire reasoned. She carried the envelope into the kitchen and slit it open. The document inside read:

Caruthers v Caruthers

Petition for Sole Legal Custody of Three Minor Children

“This is ridiculous,” Claire grumbled. “He’s already got custody!”

She slapped the paper down on the counter and walked into the dining room. For several minutes she stood there staring out the window, seeing nothing but the words: sole legal custody. Finally she turned back to the kitchen, picked up the paper, and began to read.

Apparently Jeffrey wasn’t only seeking custody of the children, he was also asking the court to deny Elizabeth’s request for visitation rights because it was not in the best interest of his children and would cause them undue emotional distress.

“
His
children,” Claire huffed. “
His!
That’s so JT, acting as if Liz had no part in the birth of those babies!”

For a good two minutes Claire stood there talking to herself, giving voice to her anger. Finally she picked up the telephone and called Charlie at his office. “You can’t imagine what he’s done now.”

“What who’s done?” Charlie replied.

Claire gave an audible huff. “You know who I mean. Jeffrey!”

“Oh.” Charlie sighed.

“He’s filed a petition asking for custody of the kids.”

“Hasn’t he already got custody?”

“He wants
sole
custody! He wants to deny Liz visitation rights!”

“That’s ridiculous! No court is going to—”

“Maybe not,” Claire interrupted. “But we can’t take a chance that—”

“We’re not going to,” Charlie answered. “Call Dudley, and let him know what’s going on. He’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure Dudley can—”

“Of course he can. He’s a lawyer!”

Claire hung up the telephone wishing she felt more certain of Dudley Grimm’s capabilities. He was such a mild-mannered man, so soft-spoken and small, so slender and only inches taller than Claire herself. She would have preferred someone with a booming voice and powerful girth, someone capable of striking fear into the opposition.

~ ~ ~

That evening Claire met Charlie when he came through the door. “Don’t mention this to Liz,” she whispered. “She doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t know?” Charles echoed. “Why?”

“I don’t want to worry her right now. She’s had a good day, so why spoil it?” Claire went back to preparing dinner.

Two days later Dudley Grimm telephoned Claire.

“Judge Brill called a conference with me and Jeffrey’s lawyer,” he said.

“Why?”

“My guess would be that his docket is overloaded. He’s probably going to ask that we come to a mutually agreeable resolution out of court.”

“The judge can conference all he wants, but I’ll never give up Liz’s right to see her children nor will I agree to Jeffrey having sole custody.”

“Claire,” Dudley said, “you don’t get to make any of the decisions in this case. These actions concern only Elizabeth and Jeffrey. As far as the court is concerned, you and Charles are basically bystanders.”

“Excuse me?” Claire’s voice was riddled with indignation. “We are not simply off-the-street bystanders. We’re the children’s grandparents!”

“But as I explained, in the state of New Jersey grandparents have no legal standing in a custody battle. The only exception would be a case where both parents are either deceased or declared unfit to raise the children.”

Claire sputtered a few more objections, but when she hung up the telephone she knew the time had come to tell Elizabeth.

J
udge Brill didn’t tolerate squabbling lawyers and frivolous actions, something he made perfectly clear before he’d settled into his seat.

“I see no reason why I should have a case such as this on my docket.”

“Your Honor,” Dudley Grimm said mildly. “My client is a dying woman who has asked for nothing more than a few personal mementos and access to her three children.”

“Reasonable enough request,” Judge Brill commented. He turned to Noreen Sarnoff. “Why does your client have a problem with that?”

“Well, Your Honor.” Noreen sighed in the breathless way that caught men off guard. “The children in question are young and extremely impressionable. The father feels that seeing their mother die in front of them would cause extreme emotional trauma.” She gave another sigh. “Then there’s the issue of the grandparents—”

“The grandparents,” Dudley cut in, “are responsible and upstanding parents who have stepped in to care for their terminally-ill daughter because her husband refused to do so. Understandably, they are concerned about the welfare of her children.”  

Judge Brill looked to Noreen.

“Not so, Your Honor,” she said. “The grandmother exhibits a tendency toward violence. That became obvious when she attacked my client’s house with a sledgehammer.”

Judge Brill gave an impatient huff and rolled his eyes. “Is there any chance that these people can reach an out-of-court agreement through mediation?”

Both lawyers shook their heads.

“My client adamantly refuses to allow visitation,” Sarnoff said.

Dudley Grimm added, “My client feels equally strong about her right to spend time with her children.”

Seeing no hope of settlement, Judge Brill mandated a psychologist’s examination of all parties involved as well as the attending physician’s report on Elizabeth Caruthers’ medical status.

“Let’s find out exactly what we’re dealing with here,” he said. He rose and left the room.

A Summer of Madness

O
n the hottest day ever recorded, a day when most people did nothing but gulp down glasses of iced tea and wait for the weather to break, Claire and Charles McDermott trekked across an asphalt parking lot in Newark, New Jersey.

“I still don’t see why the judge is making
us
talk to the psychologist,” Claire grumbled. She fanned the sheet of directions in front of her face, but the small breeze it gave off hardly made a difference.

“You ought to get rid of that attitude before we go in here,” Charlie suggested. “That’s the sort of negativity the psychologist is going to be looking for.”

“Whose side are you on?” Claire started fanning herself again.

“It’s not a question of sides,” Charlie replied. “Remember, we’re not doing this for ourselves. We’re doing it for Elizabeth.”

“We shouldn’t have to do it at all.”

~ ~ ~

Doctor Belleau’s office was on the third floor but because of the extreme heat the elevator, like most everything, had stopped working. After trudging up three flights of stairs, both Charles and Claire arrived at his office red-faced and soaked with perspiration.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” Doctor Belleau apologized, extending a cool, air-conditioned hand.

Despite the clamminess of her hand in his, Claire forced a smile. 

“These things happen,” Charles gasped, still red-faced and trying to catch his breath. 

“And at the most inopportune time.” Doctor Belleau laughed.

Although he had a pleasant enough smile, Claire thought the doctor seemed terribly young. He had the appearance of someone she’d expect to find jogging through the park, not delving into a person’s innermost thoughts.

“Have you been in this business for long?” she asked, trying to sound friendly and not overly critical.

Doctor Belleau laughed again.

“Thirteen years.  But I get that question often. I should be thankful for looking younger than my years, but in this profession a youthful appearance can be a detriment.”

Claire smiled. It was going to be more difficult to dislike Doctor Belleau than she’d originally anticipated.

“What I’d like to do,” he suggested, “is speak with each of you individually. Afterward we’ll all sit down together.” He led Claire back to his office, leaving Charles to wait in the reception room.