Chapter 17
For the next two weeks things were quiet as Clyde remained in jail and Netty fell back into her routine of doing almost nothing.
Simon filed bankruptcy petitions by the pound and was busier than ever.
He and Paula continued their silent war as they ignored each other and hoped that something would force them to sign the divorce papers.
Each morning, Simon checked with his source at the jail to make sure Clyde was still there.
Each afternoon, he checked with a secretary in the prosecutor’s office to monitor any activity in the case.
The secretary was thirty-five, divorced, and a legendary flirt.
She was on his list, if he could ever find the time or energy to chase women again.
The gossip finally died down, without a peep about a suspicious will prepared by Wally.
As far as Simon could tell, Eleanor’s name had not been linked to the story of the “attack.” Nor had his.
There was also gossip that Wally’s nose was as big as a football and his entire face was rainbow-colored as the bruises matured and blended together.
He was hiding, with his cases being continued while he was on medical leave.
Fran enjoyed a brief moment of fame as the fearless secretary who’d fired away and threatened to castrate Clyde with a single bullet.
The backstory was that she had been raised with three older brothers who hunted year-round, with or without proper licenses.
Any deer was always in season. She had killed her first buck when she was thirteen.
Behind the scenes, though, Wally was working a deal, as Simon predicted.
He offered to drop all charges but a simple assault if Clyde agreed to leave town and never return.
It would be a misdemeanor, nothing permanent on his record, with one year suspended.
No fine. Just get out of town. Clyde jumped at the deal, and after eighteen days walked out.
He never answered a question from a cop, never spoke to anyone about the incident.
He got in his old car and left town, leaving nothing behind but a few stitches in Wally’s face.
Simon returned to the office after another hectic day in bankruptcy court.
He was pleasant enough to Tillie, who, as always, was busy with a mountain of paperwork.
He took off his jacket and tie and settled behind his desk to check his phone calls.
Tillie walked through the door as she tapped it and said, “You need to call Eleanor Barnett. Says it’s an emergency. ”
Simon looked at his phone, the only one Netty was supposed to call, and saw nothing from her. “What’s the emergency?” he asked.
“Something about going to court this afternoon. She didn’t say much.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Tillie turned and left the office, but not before he noticed that she was losing weight and looking better than she had in years. Evidently, the asparagus and celery shakes were working, along with a full hour in the gym each morning. Go girl.
She closed the door and Simon tapped a key. “It’s about time you called,” Netty snapped, quite irritated. “I’ve been calling all morning.”
“Hello Netty. I guess my phone is on the blink. It’s not showing any calls from you.”
“Perhaps you need a new phone,” she snapped again.
A new phone cost a thousand dollars and Simon was not ready to spring for one. Besides, the one he was holding was working just fine. He had a hunch why her calls were not coming through, but it was not the time to bicker. “What’s going on, Netty?”
“I’m in court this afternoon at four and I think I might need a lawyer.”
The only court in session at 4 P.M. on a Wednesday afternoon was the city traffic court. “Okay, what’s the case about?”
“Well, this really rude policeman pulled me over and gave me a ticket. I didn’t do a thing wrong.”
“Why haven’t you called me before now?”
“Because I thought I could take care of this, it’s all a misunderstanding, you see, but now that I’m here in court it looks like everyone else has a lawyer. Do I need one?”
There were several guys in town who advertised their ability to get traffic tickets reduced or even dismissed, and they usually hung around traffic court hustling people who really didn’t need a lawyer.
“What are the charges?”
“I don’t know, several. Speeding, I think. Wrong way. Something about an expired license. It’s all so confusing. I’m not going to jail, am I, Simon? This is truly frightening.”
Speeding seemed unlikely since she drove with one foot on the brake. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t worry.”
The courtroom was four blocks away, in an annex behind city hall.
Simon reluctantly put his jacket back on, but not his tie since there was no dress code in traffic court.
The judge was a part-timer who had a law license but had never practiced and spent four hours a week refereeing parking and traffic disputes for $500 a month.
If he owned a black robe he never wore it.
Simon eased into the crowded courtroom at 3:50 and found Netty in the back row. She was visibly relieved to see him and squeezed his hand. Simon patted hers and whispered, “It’ll be okay.”
He looked at her ticket and managed to maintain a poker face. Five infractions. It was issued by a Lieutenant Andy Reece, one of several city cops Simon did not know. “Do you see Officer Reece in the courtroom?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she said and nodded at a door where several officers were hanging around. “That tall one with red hair.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.”
Simon walked to the front of the courtroom, spoke to two lawyers he knew, and drifted over to the cops, who were coming and going.
He introduced himself to Officer Reece and asked if he had a minute for a chat.
Sure. They stepped out of the courtroom and into a hallway.
Simon handed him the ticket and he glanced at it. “Oh, her? She’s dangerous.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Sure. We had radar set up down on Kidder Extended, one way, you know, two blocks behind the Kroger.”
“I know the area.” It was a notorious speed trap.
“She came busting down the wrong way, clocked her at forty-five in a twenty-five zone. Speeding, reckless, wrong way, no lights, plus expired tags.”
“When did they expire?”
“Uh, last week, I believe.”
“No lights?”
“Yeah, you see it was raining and her wipers were on. If wipers are on, then lights too.”
“Were you solo?”
“Oh, in other words, Do I have a witness?”
“Something like that.”
“Yes, I was solo, but I have the video. Dashcam. Slow-motion and living color. Ask me nicely and I’ll send you the link.”
“Okay. Look, I need to talk to the judge. Any objections if we bump it for a few weeks?”
“No problem here.”
It was routine in the city courts to continue cases for a month or so, especially when lawyers got involved.
“Thanks.”
“No problem,” the officer said. “But, look, has she told you about the other charges?”
“Afraid not.”
“Two pending, both moving violations. Ran a red last week, and used a wrong lane two weeks ago. Dashcam, more footage. If this reckless sticks, it’s probably time to sell the car.”
“Thanks.”
Inside the courtroom, Simon stopped by the clerk’s desk and filed a short request for a continuance. He and Eleanor left the annex and walked two blocks to a coffee shop where he paid for two cups and they sat in a corner.
With a warm smile, Simon began with “You should’ve told me about these traffic tickets, Netty. This is more serious than I first thought.”
Her eyes watered and she said, “I know. I just didn’t want to worry you with them. You’ve done so much for me. My will, getting me out of town when Clyde was here. I just hate to bother. I know how busy you are.”
He kept smiling as he listened, nothing but warmth and understanding. “I’m never too busy to help my clients, Netty. That’s what I’m for. Now, who is your insurance agent?”
She frowned, then closed her eyes for a second. “Oh, what’s her name? Sells Allstate up north of town, by the mall. I’ll think of it.”
“I’ll find her. This could pose a real problem, Netty. Reckless driving is a serious charge and insurance companies don’t like them. Plus you have other charges you never told me about.”
“I’m so sorry. Will they take away my license?” The fear was obvious, and Simon felt sorry for her. Mobility was life, and losing it only brought the end closer.
“I don’t know but probably not. The bigger problem is losing your insurance. You can’t drive if you have no insurance.”
“Oh dear.”
“But I’ll get to work on it. Now, about the expired tags. You’ve told me that you still pay all of your own bills.”
“I do indeed,” she bristled. “Every Monday morning, I pay my bills first thing. It’s an old habit Harry had.”
“I see. So how did you miss the license renewal?”
“I don’t know. Something must have fallen through the cracks.
It’s not a monthly bill, you know?” She was indignant for a moment and tried to seem offended.
Then, from nowhere, “Doris wants to do lunch with us. She knows an Indian place out in the country in an old service station. Said the food is great.”
Doris was a friend she mentioned occasionally, one of few. Simon wasn’t thrilled with the idea of lunching with a stranger. “Is Doris still driving?”
“Oh yes. She’s only seventy-nine.”
“Married.”
“Sort of. Delbert is in a facility, out of it. Hasn’t said a word in two years. Really sad. I’ve told her all about our lunches and she would really like to join us.”
“I don’t know, Netty. We discuss some pretty serious matters over lunch and there are things we need to decide. Let’s wait a while before we include anyone else.”
She did not like to be told no and began to pout.