Balance of Power

    Bresler's arms, still crossed in front of his chest, seemed to tighten around himself. "As I understood it, they wanted to make a case against the SSA."

    "On what did you base that understanding?"

    Bresler's shoulders twitched. "Pretty much all they asked me about was the SSA."

    "And what did you tell them?"

    It was strange, Sarah thought: now Bresler's gaze was trained on Nolan, as though steeling himself to complete his lie. "Exactly what I just told you."

"In all respects?" Nolan persisted.

Another brief pause. "Yes."

    "Did you discuss with plaintiff's counsel whether you'd execute an affidavit?"

    Silent, Lenihan scowled. "Before we talked about what I'd say," Bresler answered, "Mr. Lenihan said that they might like one. Afterward they never mentioned it."

    "And were you willing to give them an affidavit, saying what you've just said here?"

    "Yes."

    Outraged, Lenihan half stood. Sarah, frozen, was filled with impotent fury at the extent of Bresler's betrayal. With a last brief smile, Nolan said, "Thank you, Mr. Bresler."

* * *

    Standing outside the conference room, Lenihan and Sarah whispered furiously.

    "No affidavit," Lenihan said in a savage undertone. "From the moment Bresler said that, we should have sent him packing. Instead you've given us a case without a basis."

    "There is a basis. Bresler's lying."

    "What a surprise." Lenihan's tone dripped with venom. "In my experience, the American justice system is one long and noble search for truth . . ."

    "They blackmailed him," Sarah said. "Or offered him something. Maybe a job if he recanted."

    "Think so? My goodness, that might mean that Evan Pritchard is part of it. Imagine that kind of conduct from an officer of the court."

    Sarah drew a breath. "I'll cross-examine . . ."

    "No," Lenihan cut in. "They're mine. All of them."

* * *

    Arms resting on the table, Lenihan leaned toward Bresler. Though Bresler's face was round, it seemed pinched, his expression miserable. "Prior to today," Lenihan began, "have you discussed this case with anyone from the SSA?"

    Evan Pritchard raised a hand, signalling his client not to answer. "Other than attorneys?" he said to Lenihan.

    Lenihan gave him a cynical smile. "Let's start there, Mr. Bresler."

    Bresler hesitated. "No."

    This, Sarah was certain, could not be true. As if reading her thoughts, Lenihan asked, "How did you select Mr. Pritchard to represent you?"

    Bresler glanced at Pritchard. Quietly, he said, "I knew of him by reputation."

    "You'd never met him?"

    "No. Not before this case."

    "How did you hear of Mr. Pritchard?"

    "I don't recall."

    Lenihan's face set. "Isn't it true that the SSA recommended that you hire Mr. Pritchard?"

    "No."

    "Then who's paying your legal fees?"

    "Objection," Pritchard interjected. "Direct not to answer . . ."

    "On what basis?" Lenihan snapped.

    "Because," Pritchard said in a laconic drawl, "it's outside the scope of discovery. And protected by the attorney-client privilege . . ."

    "Outside the scope of discovery?" Lenihan repeated incredulously. "Not if the SSA's paying your fees."

    "Same objection," Pritchard said. "Same instruction. Move on."

    "Move on to the judge, you mean."

    "Fine. Have anything else, Mr. Lenihan, or are we through here?"

    Lenihan sat straighter. "Have you," he asked Bresler, "discussed this case with Mr. Fancher or Mr. Nolan?"

    Bresler glanced at Pritchard. After a moment, Pritchard nodded. "Yes," Bresler answered tersely.

    Lenihan's expression was grim. "With whom, precisely?"

    "With both."

    "Where, and when?"

    "Yesterday. In this room."

    "And who paid your expenses to get here?"

    "Objection," Pritchard said. "Outside the scope of discovery."

    "We didn't object when you asked."

    "That's your privilege, counsel. Or your lapse. You can take that to the judge, as well."

    Lenihan paused a moment, reining in his temper, and then turned back to Bresler. "What did you discuss with Mr. Nolan and Mr. Fancher?"

    In Bresler's liquid eyes, Sarah imagined, there was a look of shame. "My testimony."

    "And what did Mr. Fancher and Mr. Nolan say about your testimony?"

    "Objection," Nolan interjected. "The substance of our conversation may reflect the legal strategy of counsel and, therefore, is protected from disclosure by the work-product doctrine . . ."

    "That's not absolute," Lenihan interjected.

    "True. But before you get an answer, the information must be unavailable by any other means." Nolan's faint, annoying smile returned. "My questions today have already elicited the relevant information. You're simply unhappy with the answers—as, apparently, you were upon meeting Mr. Bresler at Sea Ranch. To me, the one enduring mystery is why you listed him as a witness."

    Pritchard nodded his agreement. "In light of that," he told Lenihan, "I'm bound to honor Mr. Nolan's request. I'm directing the witness not to answer any substantive questions about his discussions with defense counsel." Abruptly turning to Bresler, he said, "Let's put this to rest, Martin. Did anyone in that meeting ask you to lie, or to change your story?"