"Quid pro quo"

Trials & Tribulations

Chapter 2

Friday morning

In the book-filled storage room the two librarians stood and stretched and admired their handiwork. The head librarian had taken the list and managed to locate them all. The two women then spent the rest of the morning packing boxes of National Geographic magazines.

"I'm puzzled by all of this," the assistant said looking around at the boxes.

The head librarian carefully smoothed down the tape seam with her slender fingers and thought of her morning visitor-the handsome man with the penetrating blue eyes.

"Polly," she began, "it's not our job to ask questions. I'm sure the justice has his reasons and besides….." Snapping the tape from the dispenser, she continued. "He's made a very generous donation to our children's reading section. We need the money and you know we'd make a mere pittance selling these issues at our library thrift store."

The assistant nodded and seemed satisfied with the response as she left to summon the library courier for a delivery to the judge's apartment building.
Meanwhile the head librarian stared down at the list with a gnawing sense of curiosity and remembered the monstrous anaconda lunging from the front cover of one of the magazines. What could be the appeal of all this? Borneo, headhunters, Egypt, anacondas…..and this photographer? The librarian's eyes widened as her imagination ran wild.

~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~

Leslie Mark's eyes fluttered in disbelief while her mouth slowly dropped open in awe. She couldn't believe what she was seeing and hearing. While running the clocks she had a full view of both the bench and the lecterns. Up to this point the appeal had been proceeding normally, like ships steaming along, steady, predictable, routine. Then the atmosphere changed in a subtle way, slowly at first, like a minor navigational miscalculation on a vessel might go unnoticed until time had progressed and the ship's wandering became more and more dramatic. The attorneys at their lecterns slowly turned to each other with raised brows. Even the clerks at various positions around the courtroom began to look at each other to see if others were hearing and seeing the same thing. All the players had noticed something going on with the three distinguished jurist who sat before them.

The pointed looks, the whispered voices, the paper being passed back and forth at first casually, then forcefully made it obvious legal fireworks were brewing on the bench. The wandering ship, now so far off course, has scraped its hull along a coral atoll creating a gash from bow to stern with water rushing in. Alarm bells sound on the distressed ship.

Chief Justice Erskine Burrows had been presiding imperiously over the court from his position in the center, while his wing man, Associate Justice Jameson Clark, sat comfortably to his right. The least senior jurist and odd man out, Associate Justice Perry Mason, was seated to the Chief's left. Mason's fiery sidelong glances and sternly whispered discussion to the Chief Justice was becoming like the ship's gapping hull, hard to ignore. Around the courtroom heads leaned together, whispered discussions grew louder as it became evident the Chief Justice was marginalizing a member of his own court. Anxious eyes looked around sensing the growing tension on the verge of explosion.

Burrows, head held high, eyes sweeping the floor, had successfully managed to speak over and ignore the comments brought forth by Justice Mason. Justice Clark was only too eager to chime in, drowning out Mason with his support of whatever merits the Chief Justice had brought forward. The commentary created the illusion Mason was not even a presence on the bench. Burrows smiled down at the two puzzled attorneys who stood in awe at what they were witnessing and wondered how their appeal would play out.

Abruptly Burrows paused and a strange hush settled over the proceedings. In the eerie silence Leslie imagined she heard the sound of a hissing fuse and jumped at the loud pop of Burrow's chair as he abruptly stood. The Chief quickly announced the court would make its decision and with the swiftness of a lightning strike all three justices bolted from their seats causing their leather chairs to twirl, and their black robes to billow as they departed like a shot for their conference room.

Immediately sound filled the courtroom and the two opposing attorneys quickly stepped from their lecterns to discuss what they had just witnessed. Law clerks positioned around the courtroom moved toward the conference room in anticipation of what scene might be occurring in the back hallway. Leslie managed to enter the hallway first and was hit by a booming wave of angry voices and managed a fleeting glimpse of swirling black robes pouring through the conference room door as it vigorously slammed shut. From the opposite end of the corridor two concerned bailiffs hurriedly pursued the cacophony. Leisurely the other clerks filed in behind her. The bailiffs looked at each other and decided they would positioned themselves outside the door poised and ready to enter in the event they detected the sounds of scuffling or furniture being overturned.

Leslie nervously twisted the ring on her finger and felt helpless as she stood outside listening to the booming voices. From the corner of her eye she watched the behavior of the other clerks. Janice Thiery, Burrow's clerk, leaned provocatively against the wall with a haughty air of schadenfreude. What a perfect pair, Burrows and Thiery, she thought. I wonder how she's made it this far? Leslie rolled her eyes with annoyance, she knew the answer.

Mason's baritone voice carried above Burrows and Clark, but no words could be recognized. Anxiously the group listened and waited. Not wanting to make eye contact, Leslie managed sidelong glances at Clark's clerk, Harrison Sandover, III. Harrison Sandover the third. What a load of crap! I bet Sandover I and II are a joy as well! Leslie thought. Harrison Sandover the third had impressed her right away with his aloof and arrogant attitude. Clark's clerk leaned against the wall with a bored and smug expression.

Leslie felt anger growing toward the other clerks. There was no concern of what could be happening behind those closed doors or how the events they had just witnessed had marred the perceived dignity of the court. It was as though they were gaining some kind of vicarious thrill out of what was happening and she being Mason's clerk was included. The bailiffs waited casually and seemed accustomed to heated discussion behind conference doors. Occasionally the men would cast an observant eye toward the law clerks. In disputes over legal doctrine the seasoned officers knew it was not unusual for disputes to spill over to clerks when it came to philosophy or the loyalty to a jurist.

Heaving a weary sigh, Harrison rolled his eyes and commented dryly. "You know this wouldn't be happening if Mason would just realize he's not a defense attorney anymore. He can't pull his theatrical spiel in this court." In the same condescending tone, Harrison added as he looked directly at Leslie Marks. "He should know by now his days of being the ringmaster of his three ring circus are over."

Fits balled, Leslie stepped forward and the two bailiffs quickly turned their attention to Mason's clerk. At that moment a loud bang from inside the conference room made them all jump and the bailiffs turned to the door. Suddenly the door was flung open and out strutted the Chief Justice. The bailiffs stepped back and nodded in acknowledgement at the jurist. Turning toward the clerks lining the hallway, Burrows smiled, chin held high, shoulders squared, a thick coat of hairspray holding every hair in place, only the jurist's cheeks were flushed from their heated verbal thunderstorm. Confidently following behind the jurist, Associate Justice Jameson Clark glanced at the clerks and bailiffs and nodded. The bailiffs breathed a sigh of relief watching the justices emerged from the conference room unscathed. Janice Thiery and Harrison Sandover, III fell in place behind their mentors, and paused long enough to flash sympathetic looks at Leslie Marks.

The bailiffs turned their attention once more to the conference room. Suddenly Perry Mason's presence filled the doorway with sparkling eyes and the aura of physical energy. Glancing back and forth between the departing jurists and the energized pugilist who stood in the doorway, the bailiffs released sighs of relief at not having to break-up what could have been a nasty brawl. Leslie's eyes widen, amazed at her mentor's transformation. She found his formidable presence both frightening and exciting and fought the temptation to reach out and touch him. The sound of his voice played softly in her ears. 'I wish I could tell you things get easier, you only get tougher.'

Reluctantly she allowed the moment to pass and observed Mason nodding and shaking the hands of the bailiffs, thanking them for their due diligence. While the bailiffs walked away Mason turned to his clerk.

Like the sun breaking through storm clouds, Mason released a faint smile and shrugged his broad shoulders. "Well, Ms. Marks, we have a busy afternoon ahead of us. You and I will be writing our dissent."

Yeah, you only get tougher, she thought looking up at her mentor's face.
Mason stepped into the hallway and Leslie fell in step at his side. "Yes, Your Honor!" she replied, ready to follow his lead.

"And our dissent," he said looking down at his clerk, and added pointedly, "will be read from the bench." Leslie understood the significance of the act- a dissent read from the bench.

Mason smiled and watched his clerk's face brighten, her head nodding in agreement.

Falling into step with Mason, Leslie stated with enthusiasm, "As you said, we only get tougher!"

Mason looked down at his clerk and chuckled at her bravado.

~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~PM~~~

Meanwhile in the chambers of the Chief Justice...

Leaning against the closed door of his chambers, Erskine Burrows felt weak and hurried to his leather chair before his legs would collapse. Suddenly he felt ten years old again, running like mad, the hot breath of the German shepherd on his legs, with fear and elation coursing through his veins. Reaching the safety of his home he had bolted over his fence and collapsed in a crying exhausted heap as the frustrated canine snarled and barked through the chain links. He had dared tease the animal in a childish test of bravery with the plan he could show-off for his friends, the same friends who constantly teased him about his diminutive size. Fortunately, he had been alone on the day he teased the canine, but today it had been different.

From his position on the bench and before a filled courtroom, he had strayed from a professional disagreement over point of law to an all-out personal attack-an attack aimed at diminishing, marginalizing and ultimately disrespecting a fellow member of his court. Like the teasing of the German shepherd, he had hoped to provoke a public response from Mason. He hoped the court would see an out-of-control jurist, but instead Mason had flashed him increasingly angry looks and heated notes indicating his forceful opinions of what the Chief Justice was doing. But to his disappointment, Mason had remained the consummate professional until the doors of the conference room slammed shut.

Burrows felt a shiver, turned his chair to the side and opened the bottom drawer of his desk and looked inside. At the age of ten he knew who he was trying to impress. Reaching into the back of the desk drawer, he paused with his hand on a Sterling silver Victorian hip flask filled with vodka. Now who was he trying to impress? A decorative box containing the engraved flask had been pressed into his hand as a silky voice explained the significance of their new relationship, 'Here's a little reminder of our association, you know, when times get tough.' Yeah, when times get tough, Burrows thought and released a nervous chuckle. Times are definitely tough, now he had 'people' to impress, 'people' who had expectations, very high expectations. Casting a nervous glance at the door he quickly opened the flask and downed half its contents. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Burrows considered downing the rest, but changed his mind.

Only he knew how much he feared Mason and the way he constantly maneuvered in the conference room to maintain a safe distance from the inflamed jurist who pursued him like a fighter in a ring. A weak smile appeared on the Chief Justice's lips as he thought. Yes, only he knew because he was the master of illusion, his arrogant veneer hiding the grown version of that cowering and crying ten year old boy. Janice Thiery was there, watching, listening, and seeing him in charge.

Returning the flask to its hiding place, he closed the drawer and remembered a file containing a very special publishing project he had been purposefully neglecting. His neglect was due to his inability to tackle its legal complexity. He would offer it to Janice as a gift. It was a chance to write and publish, something his clerk had done as editor of the Law Review. He knew the ambitious Janice would find it difficult to resist. By the acceptance of this honor she would feel anxious to return his favor. The shiver was replaced by a tingle as Burrows thought of how this favor might be repaid. With his wife away, he had all week.

Meanwhile a plane cruised above the Sierra Nevada Mountains…

Peggy Lisbon Burrows looked out the cabin window from her seat in first class. She never tired of studying the landscape from such a vantage point. Most passengers in first class had pulled the blinds, put on headphones or were reading their paper and were totally indifferent to what features passed below. Clinging to a habit she had developed as a young girl, Peggy still enjoyed looking below at nature and humanity. In the distance Mt. Whitney peeked above the clouds forming a patchwork quilt over the Sierra Nevada Mountains as she began to daydream.

Her thoughts drifted to the times she had flown over this area with her parents. Her parents were now entering their retirement years. Retirement, she thought and smiled at the notion of her father entering that phase of his life. For Renato Lisbon, business was his life. And her mother…..she enjoyed being the wife of a successful businessman and the mother to what was to be their only child-Peggy Anne. Leaning against the cool surface of the window, her fingers idly ran over the smooth leather of her briefcase as she realized she had spent most of her life trying to live up to their expectations and the burden of being an only child.

Renato Lisbon had hoped for a male heir to his business fortune while her mother, Natalie, wished for a beautiful girl to lavish with designer gowns and fashionable parties. Despite her parent's efforts to hide their disappointment, Peggy detected their duplicity. She was not beautiful by debutante standards, but on the other hand she was not ugly, she was, she felt as she looked in the mirror each day, simply a wholesome natural blonde, tall and willowy, with an engaging smile and sparkling blue eyes. What she lacked in dazzling beauty she more than compensated with charisma. Over time her father began to realize his willowy blonde daughter had an amazing mind for numbers and mathematical analysis. And to his amazement she had been quietly observing her father's business over the years and had startled him with her business acumen. Not only did his daughter have the personality to win over clients, she also exhibited a keen business savvy. Reluctantly her father acquiesced to her wishes and ignored the protests of her mother of how his actions would ruin their daughter's social life and her prospects of marriage. Peggy smiled and thought of her mother, the designer gowns and the fashionable parties.

Curled in the corner of the window box and hidden by the satin curtain, Peggy was lost in the world of a thick paperback, 'Gone with the Wind'. Reading voraciously, and checking the thickness of the book, she could see with despair that her beloved story would soon be coming to an end. She was enthralled with all the characters, Melanie Hamilton, Scarlett O'Hara, Ashley Wilkes and of course, Rhett Butler. She felt as though she knew them personally. But it was Melanie, sweet, plain Melanie who seemed the most familiar. Why? She moistened her lips and enjoyed the cool window pane against her forehead. Because on the outside, she was Melanie, plain, sweet, wanting to please Melanie and yet another character called to her, a character that appealed to the inner Peggy. It was Scarlett. Even in business, a woman needs an inner Scarlett. And as Peggy matured and began to attend those fashionable parties, the inner Scarlett blossomed. And despite her demure Melanie appearance she was not searching for her Ashley Wilkes, no, she was searching for her Rhett Butler.

Leaning back in her seat, Peggy released a sigh, straightened her navy business suit and looked down at her hands crossed on her leather briefcase. Moving her hand allowed the diamonds to sparkle in the overhead light. Watching the facets play over the ceiling she enjoyed playing the scene over and over in her mind.

The dinner party had been interesting enough, the usual society gossip, and a few useful business contacts were made until she saw him across the room. Without her heels, they could look eye to eye, and yet he carried himself with attitude, as though size didn't matter. Sipping her drink she carefully noticed the details of his smartly tailored dinner jacket and realized he would look good in anything or even better- nothing.

Then coolly he checked his watch, made his way to offer the host and hostess his best, then moved to leave. Placing her drink on a passing tray she too, offered her best to the host and hostess and hurried down the hall and nervously waited while the butler retrieved her fur coat. To her relief she stepped out in the hallway and found him just stepping into the elevator. With a gentlemanly smile, he pressed the button to hold the door and together they began their ride to the ground floor. Stepping to either side they took their positions. Moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, she demurely thanked him for holding the elevator at which he nodded and smiled. Quietly they stood at the sides, stealing looks at each as the car swiftly dropped to the ground. She could feel his eyes moving over her, noting how her fur easily fell from her bare shoulders and the way the dark green satin dress she wore revealed her daring décolletage and the supple curve of her hips.

When his eyes were turned she gave him her full attention. She liked his boyish good looks, his tight muscular build and the unruly blonde hair he tried vainly to tame. The car eased to a halt and the doors opened releasing its occupants to the grand lobby. She noticed, to avoid the height comparison, he walked at a distance so they would not be shoulder to shoulder. Passing by the doormen, they stepped out on the street. Casually he nodded an informal good night to her and waited. Along the front of the building drivers and limousines were waiting. Peggy spotted her limousine at the front of the line and watched her driver move around to open the door for her. As she walked to her car she heard his step not far behind. Greeting Phillip, her driver, she paused before slipping into the comforts of her car and watched the man with the boyish good looks walking down the street, his arm up to hail a cab. Stepping from the car, she boldly yelled. "Hey! Over here!"

His arm dropped as he turned and looked at her.

"Yeah, you!" she yelled to his surprise.

Slowly he walked over to her and the waiting driver.

Pulling the fur around her shoulders against the evening chill, she gave him a friendly smile.

"I could drop you somewhere."

At first he frowned and began to protest, but then she saw his eyes moving in thought and he nodded his head in agreement. "Sure, that would be nice."

Phillip held the door as they slipped into the rear.

Peggy took her seat and watched her visitor take the seat across from her. The door closed behind them and a soft interior light glowed above them. Phillip, behind a partition, called over the intercom. "Where would you like me to drive, Madam?"

She noticed his eyebrow arch at the driver's formal request as he quickly gave the address into the intercom.

"Thank you, Phillip," she replied and released the button.

For a few seconds they were silent, enjoying the other in the cool dim light of the interior.

"Interesting party," he began.

"I suppose," she replied then paused.

Another moment of silence passed as they both shifted in their seats, she moving her shoulders, adjusting the fur and he crossing his legs.

"But then I didn't meet you," she finished, an elegant Scarlett eyebrow arching mischievously upward.

A sly smile slowly appeared on her companions face as his arm stretched out and rested on the back of his seat.

"I stand corrected," he softly replied. "Please call me, Erskine."

Lowering her lashes, she replied, "Well, Erskine, I'm Peggy."

Leaning forward, Erskine extended his hand and knowing she would be flashing an ample amount of cleavage she leaned forward and took his hand.

"It's a pleasure, Erskine," she replied, allowing him the opportunity to look and hold her hand longer than necessary.

"Yes, it is," he spoke without really thinking, his eyes enjoying the view.

Reclining in their seats, they were silent again, their body heat stimulating the scent of their perfume and cologne.

"So what do you do, Erskine?"

Her companion shifted in his seat again, uncrossing his legs for comfort.

Peggy watched his body language and smiled.

"I'm an attorney," he answered and noting her lack of enthusiasm added, "But I'll soon be judge, an appointment to the California Court of Appeals." Seeing her smile, he breathed a sigh of relief and quickly asked in return. "And what do you do, Peggy?" And as a silly afterthought added, "Besides going to dinner parties?"

Peggy did not answer immediately, with a cool smile and knowing eyes she watched her blonde bad boy, her Rhett Butler.

"Besides going to dinner parties, I make and invest money." Peggy always enjoyed the silence that followed. Slowly and provocatively she crossed her legs and watched his eyes follow her movements.

Suddenly they felt the limousine slowing and pulling to the curb. A strange mix of desire and desperation flashed across her companion's face as he looked from her to the view through the tinted windows. And then his show of desperation was gone, the attitude, his air of confidence returned as his hand slipped inside his dinner jacket and retrieved a business card. Leaning forward, he extended the card. Again, she leaned toward him, giving her companion one last look at what could be his and took the card. And just when she had the illusion his lips had brushed against hers-his lips were gone. To her surprise he was preparing to leave, his hand clutched the door as he paused, and with an arrogance befitting Rhett Butler he faced her once more.

"Thank you for the 'ride', Peggy. You've made it most enjoyable."

Glancing down at his business card, she released a coy smile and realized he too was playing her game. "Yes, Erskine Burrows, it has been a pleasure. Till we meet again," she replied as she slipped his card inside her purse. Phillips opened the door and her companion disappeared.

Peggy shifted, enjoying the tingle her daydream had created and turned her thoughts to her week in Boston.

~~~tbc~~~