For the most part it was useless testimony, evoked not for the sake of information, but rather to annoy the witness and put him on notice that the skeletons could be summoned from the closet. He filed the lawsuit. He had to suffer the scrutiny.
His employment history took them to the brink of lunch. He stumbled badly when Nate grilled him about his various jobs for his father's companies. There were dozens of witnesses who could be called to rebut his version of how useful he'd been. With each job, Nate asked for the names of all his co-workers and supervisors. The trap was laid. Hark saw it coming and called time-out. He stepped into the hall with his client and lectured him about telling the truth.
The afternoon session was brutal. Nate asked about the five million dollars he'd received on his twenty-first birthday, and the entire wall of Phelan lawyers seemed to stiffen.
"That was a long time ago," Troy Junior said with an air of resignation. After four hours with Nate O'Riley, he knew the next round would be painful.
"Well, let's try to remember," Nate said with a smile. He showed no signs of fatigue. In fact, he'd been there so many times he actually seemed anxious to grind through the details.
His acting was superb. He hated being there and tormenting people he hoped he'd never see again. The more questions Nate asked, the more determined he was to start a new career.
"How was the money given to you?" he asked.
"It was initially placed in an account in a bank."
"You had access to the account?"
"Yes."
"Did anyone else have access to the account?"
"No. Just me."
"How did you get money out of the account?"
"By writing checks."
And write them he did. His first purchase had been a brand-new Maserati, dark blue. They talked about the damned car for fifteen minutes.
Troy Junior never returned to college after receiving the money, not that any of the schools he'd attended were anxious to have him back. He simply partied, though this came not in the form of a confession. Nate hammered him about his employment from ages twenty-one to thirty, and slowly extricated enough facts to reveal that Troy Junior did not work at all for those nine years. He played golf and rugby, traded cars with gusto, spent a year in the Bahamas and a year in Vail, lived with an amazing assortment of women before finally marrying number one at the age of twenty-nine, and indulged himself in grand style until the money ran out.
Then the prodigal son crawled to his father and asked for a job.
As the afternoon wore on, Nate began to envision the havoc this witness would sow upon himself and those around him if he got his sticky fingers on the Phelan fortune. He would kill himself with the money.
At 4 P.M., Troy Junior asked to be excused for the day. Nate refused. During the break that followed, a note was sent to Judge Wycliff down the hall. While they waited, Nate looked at Josh's questions for the first time.
The return message instructed that the proceedings keep going.
A week after Troy's suicide, Josh had hired a security firm to conduct an investigation into the Phelan heirs. The probe was more financial than personal. Nate skimmed the highlights while the witness smoked in the hall.
"What kind of car are you driving now?" Nate asked when they resumed. The exam took yet another direction.
"A Porsche."
"When did you buy it?"
"I've had it awhile."
"Try to answer the question. When did you buy it?"
"Couple of months ago."
"Before or after your father's death?"
"I'm not real sure. Before, I think."
Nate lifted a sheet of paper. "What day did your father die?"
"Lemme see. It was a Monday, uh, December the ninth, I think."
"Did you buy the Porsche before or after December the ninth?"
"Like I said, I think it was before."
"Nope, wrong again. On Tuesday, December tenth, did you go to Irving Motors in Arlington and purchase a black Porsche Carrera Turbo 911 for ninety thousand dollars, give or take?" Nate asked the question while reading from the sheet of paper.
Troy Junior squirmed and fidgeted yet again. He looked at Hark, who shrugged as if to say, "Answer the question. He's got the paperwork."
"Yes, I did."
"Did you buy any other cars that day?"
"Yes."
"How many?"
"A total of two."
"Two Porsches?"
"Yes."
"For a total of nearly one hundred and eighty thousand dollars?"
"Something like that."
"How did you pay for them?"
"I haven't."
"So the cars were gifts from Irving Motors?"
"Not exactly. I bought them on credit."
"You qualified for credit?"
"Yes, at Irving Motors anyway."
"Do they want their money?"
"Yes, you could say that."
Nate picked up more papers. "In fact, they've filed suit to recover either the money or the cars, haven't they?"
"Yes."
"Did you drive the Porsche to the deposition today?"
"Yes. It's in the parking lot."
"Let me get this straight. On December tenth, the day after your father died, you went to Irving Motors and bought two expensive cars, on some type of credit, and now, two months later, you haven't paid a dime and are being sued. Correct?"
The witness nodded.
"This is not the only lawsuit, is it?"
"No," Troy Junior said in defeat. Nate almost felt sorry for him.
A rental company was suing for nonpayment on a furniture lease. American Express wanted over fifteen thousand. A bank sued Troy Junior a week after the reading of his father's will. Junior had fast-talked it into a loan of twenty-five thousand dollars, secured by nothing but his name. Nate had copies of all the litigation, and they trudged through the details of each lawsuit.
At five, another argument occurred. Another note was sent to Wycliff. The Judge appeared himself and asked about their progress. "When do you think you'll finish with this witness?" he asked Nate.
"There's no end in sight," Nate said, staring at Junior, who was in a trance and praying for liquor.
"Then work until six," Wycliff said.
"Can we start at eight in the morning?" Nate asked, as if they were going to the beach.
"Eight - thirty," His Honor decreed, then left.
For the last hour, Nate peppered Junior with random questions on many subjects. The deponent had no clue where his interrogator was going, and Junior was being led by a master. Just as they settled on one topic and he began to feel comfortable, Nate changed course and hit him with something new.
How much money did he spend from December 9 to December 27, the day the will was read? What did he buy his wife for Christmas, and how did he pay for the gifts? What did he buy for his children? Back to the five million, did he put any of the money in stocks or bonds? How much money did Biff earn last year? Why did her first husband get custody of her kids? How many lawyers had he hired and fired since his father died? And on and on.
At precisely six, Hark stood and announced the deposition was being adjourned. Ten minutes later, Troy Junior was in a bar in a hotel lobby two miles away.
Nate slept in the Stafford guest room. Mrs. Stafford was somewhere in the house, but he never saw her. Josh was in New York on business.
THE SECOND DAY of questioning started on time. The cast was the same, though the lawyers were dressed much more casually. Junior wore a red cotton sweater. Nate recognized the face of a drunk-the red eyes, the puffy flesh around them, the pink cheeks and nose, the sweat above the brows. The face had been his for years. Treating the hangover was as much a part of the morning as the shower and the dental floss. Take some pills, drink lots of water and strong coffee. If you're gonna be stupid you gotta be tough.