Balance of Power

    To do so, Sarah knew, would risk reopening Mary's deposition at a later time, giving Nolan a second chance to do what he dared not do before a jury—interrogate Mary without regard to the niceties due the survivor of a tragedy. Cornered, Sarah answered, "I'll indulge you, counsel—to a point. But a deposition is not a license to rummage through Ms. Costello's life at random."

    With a fleeting smile of satisfaction, Nolan faced Mary. "I paid part of it," she answered in a prideful voice.

    "Who paid the rest?"

    Mary frowned, glancing at Sarah. "My sister," she said at length. "Lara."

    "And did she help you after college?"

    Slowly, Mary nodded. "To buy furniture for my apartment. And pay my deposit and first month's rent."

    "Did she send you money on other occasions?"

    Once more, Mary folded her arms. "She paid for all our plane tickets to the wedding."

    Nolan was silent, allowing the irony implicit in the answer to linger. "And you're grateful to the First Lady for her help?"

    "Yes," Mary answered tersely. "Of course."

    "Would you say that Lara Kilcannon is wealthy?"

    "What," Sarah snapped, "does the First Lady's net worth have to do with anything?"

    This time Nolan ignored her, daring Sarah to keep her client from responding. "You may answer," he told Mary.

    "Yes." Mary replied flatly. "Lara's done well."

    "And are you included in her will?"

    Mary looked surprised. "I believe so, yes."

    "And you're grateful for that, I assume."

    At this, Mary sat upright. "I was included in my mother's will, Mr. Nolan. It's never occurred to me to be grateful that she's dead."

    The retort so disconcerted Nolan that, for a moment, he was silent. "All I meant," he said at length, "is that your sister continues to look out for you financially. Is that why Mrs. Kilcannon is not a plaintiff in this lawsuit?"

    Tense, Sarah leaned forward. "I instruct the witness not to answer."

    Nolan spun on her. "On what grounds, counsel?"

    "As you point out, Mrs. Kilcannon is a potential plaintiff in this

action—or her own action against your client. That creates a joint litigation privilege between the surviving sisters as to all communications regarding this suit. With or without a lawyer."

    This, Sarah knew, was the weakest of her privilege claims—which Nolan surely knew, as well. With an air of disbelief, he asked Mary, "Are you following your counsel's instruction?"

    Briefly, Mary glanced at Sarah. "Yes."

    "But you do acknowledge that, as of now, you alone will benefit from any recovery or settlement."

    "Yes."

    "Except for your lawyers," Nolan amended in an acid tone. "Speaking of which, how did you come to select Mr. Lenihan?"

    Once more, Sarah considered objecting. But she had made too big a point of probing Martin Bresler's 'selection' of Evan Pritchard as his lawyer to stage-manage his retraction—as, she realized now, Nolan must have appreciated at the time. Quietly, Mary answered, "Mr. Lenihan offered his services."

    "What a surprise. And how did you locate Ms. Dash?"

    Mary folded her arms. Tersely, she responded, "My sister."

    "Did your sister also offer not to share in the recovery if you accepted Ms. Dash as cocounsel?"

    To her chagrin, Sarah saw that she was trapped—to permit an answer, however exculpatory, might permit Nolan to claim that she had waived Mary's claim of privilege. "Same instruction," she snapped. "You can ask my client if she and the First Lady conspired to join a terrorist cell, and my instruction would be the same."

    "Really. Let me test that." Turning to Mary, Nolan asked, "Did Mrs. Kilcannon tell you that Ms. Dash would help carry out her and the President's directives as to how to conduct this lawsuit?"

    Mary shifted in her chair—caught, Sarah thought, between her resentment of Lara; the question which inflamed it; and Sarah's directions to maintain silence. "Same instruction," Sarah said firmly.

    "Or," Nolan persisted, "does Lara 'instruct' you directly?"

    "Same instruction . . ."

    "Lara," Mary burst out, "doesn't tell me what to do."

    "Then you won't mind," Nolan responded smoothly, "ignoring your counsel's instruction, and telling me what she does say. Or would you prefer that I go before Judge Bond?"

    With this, Sarah saw that the core of Nolan's strategy of division was more psychological than legal—to estrange Mary from Lara, and from Sarah herself, until she fired her lawyers or dropped the suit. But she could not know how clearly Nolan grasped the full potential of this strategy, all the intricacies—the jealousies, old wounds, and fresh resentments—hidden by the successes of Inez Costello's now-blighted family. "Same instruction," Sarah repeated.

    Nolan's keen gaze remained focused on Mary. "Are you following your counsel's orders, Ms. Costello?"

    Taut, Sarah could only watch. Answering, her client spoke without inflection, looking at no one. "Yes."

    For a moment Nolan studied her, and then shrugged his dismissal. "Then I suppose I'll have to ask your sister."

THREE