Faithful in Her Fashion

"What do you want from me?"

"Understanding. I know I've hurt you, but is there no way to forgiveness?" she asked, reaching across the table to touch his sleeve.

"My problem is not a lack of understanding. I get it. You needed a man to hold on to. You always did. I can't be with you when you most need me. Therefore, you find someone who can. Does it hurt? Yes, a lot. But, I forgave you almost the moment you first confessed what you did."

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I can see the pain on your face, but I have to ask — where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. Your work is abroad. You could stay here, but then you'd never be happy. I can't go away with you. I have my work and the kids to think of."

"They're my children too."

"Yes, but they understand what you do. What you need to do. And when you are here with them — you are really here. These last weeks have been good for them. They have a stay-at-home mom and are enjoying that. But they are growing up and will be their own persons soon. You need to spend as much time with them as you can while still maintaining your own life."

"But what about my husband?"

"I've been trying to regain something that is clearly gone. I wish the counseling had helped, but that's not something that works for me."

Simone could only nod. Jimmy could never open up. Never exposed the inner man, or more accurately the sad little boy who was wounded by his wife's betrayal.

Simone came around the table hugged her husband tight and said, "I love you so."

*

The call when it came was not unexpected. Samuel Gil was in Eastern Massachusetts, hundreds of miles from his lawyer's office, and the police who were investigating him. He had been in and out of the Albany area, avoiding the police. He had but one question for his counsel, "Is it safe to relax yet."

"Well, they have certainly collected samples, but..."

The explanation was a bit complex. On TV, it seemed all the police need do is pick up a cup. Real life made for greater difficulties. Each sample might have several sets of DNA. Every sample might not be usable. What the police were looking for was a DNA sample they could link to the man that they believed was Sam Gil. In all likelihood, they would not have a complete set of chromosomes, but some set that could possibly match the sample from the murder scene. An indication, "the quantum of new evidence sufficient to convince an independent investigator, he should seek to search further."

Gil didn't believe the man they substituted for himself would in any way match. Jimmy could not escape the conclusion to be drawn from that.

"They're still clearly running their tests. It may take them a while," Jimmy said.

"How will we know."

"I think when they stop searching your garbage will be a good indication."

There was a plethora of court decisions that held that garbage set out at the curb for pickup was abandoned and in the public domain. The police could search it without a warrant. But Gil lived in the town of Bethlehem. It had no municipal trash pickup. Once a week a private trash collector came by to pick up. Until then the trash was stored in Mr. Gil's Garage to foil the neighborhood raccoons. It was, therefore, still in Gil's custody, and it went from Gil to a private company.

In theory, Gil's trash was safe from police interference, but that was only theory. The State police had leaned of his hired waste company, a small firm of two brothers. The trash haulers had agreed to segregate out Gil's trash until it reached the municipal dump. Don and Andy Bunono were happy to oblige the state police. They were a pitiful pair who blundered from one misfortune to the next. They were also unbeknown to the state police clients of Jimmy O'Reilly. They dutifully segregated Gil's trash but informed his lawyer of every search.

"Yes, I would say that when they stop searching the trash, you can relax, or you could just give them a clean sample of your actual DNA."

"Now why would I do that?"

"Prove your innocence."

Sam Gil laughed, "Yea right, that's why I'm paying you because I'm innocent."

"You offered to give them the sample at one time."

"I offered to send them a sample not necessarily mine."

"I see, and you expect me to keep silent?"

"You're my attorney, you have to."

"True, I can't speak," O'Reilly said. Then, "I'll let you know about the trash."

Jimmy sat and pondered that morning, and by afternoon he knew he was committed. It was wrong, but his conscience would not permit him to let Gil get away.

"So, what did you find about the stockings, Rebecca?"

"No one sells them locally. You can get them in New York City or Boston, and of course by mail order on the internet."

"Good, take the money needed from petty cash and take the train to the city. I need you back with the stockings by Wednesday evening."

Rebecca gave him a hostile look, and then apparently she understood. Her face took on a worried countenance.

"You sure about this?" she asked.

"Yes. Use cash and be back by Wednesday evening."

Jimmy left work early. It is remarkable how representing a serial killer can take the joy out of legal practice. Arriving home, he found a late model Chevy, clearly a rental, parked in the driveway behind his wife's car. His two daughters were in the family room, watching the animated film "Frozen" on the 60-inch TV that was a gift from their aunts.

He found his wife Simone in the living room with their guests. On the sofa was a couple made up of a tall young black man and his female companion, a younger looking Asian woman. She had her left arm entwined in her male companion's right and her head and body leaning into his, as they chatted amicably with Simone.

"Oh good, you're home," Simone said as he entered. "We have guests."

"I can see," Jimmy said, noticing a distinct element of discomfort in Simone's and the black man's manner.

Like a witness on the stand, the two were feigning ease while evidencing a distinct anxiety.

It was the Asian woman who broke the tension, "Hello, sorry to just drop in, but we were on our way home, and we couldn't just drive by.

"Ben flew into Montreal and came in through Plattsburg," Simone added.

"Rouses' Point," Ben corrected, "Easier than flying directly home, given the quarantine problems."

"Jimmy, this is Ben Robinson and his fiancé Aamani. Ben and I worked together in Liberia," Simone said.

With that, Jimmy pretty well understood the underlying tension in the room. He was home a bit early. He'd surprised his wife with her guests, one of whom she was far too familiar with. He took a good look at the man. He was tall and well built. Rather handsome in an African-American way. He was a bit nervous about meeting his paramour's husband, but Jimmy guessed that normally his manner was quite easy going. Probably he had a good sense of humor, Simone liked her men amusing. Jimmy was a bit of an aberration, far too serious for his wife's liking.

Jimmy realized he was subconsciously comparing himself to this man, and he deliberately stopped himself. He noticed Aamani appraising him with her dark eyes. She was a small, slightly built woman. In a Western European her looks would have appeared delicate, but her subcontinental heritage gave her an earthy vitality. As her eyes appraised him, he could feel as well as see the sharp intelligence behind them.

"Well, I'm glad I got home early," Jimmy effused with an enthusiasm he hoped had all the sincerity he did not feel.

Coffee with a bit of cake had been served. Aamani had taken tea. Simone had pulled out the good china. Aamani sat a bit closer to her man than necessary. A bit of competition was showing between the women.

Jimmy offered some wine, which was refused.

"We have a bit of a drive ahead of us tonight. We're catching a plane out of JFK to Atlanta tomorrow afternoon," Ben said.

"Then why travel tonight? Stay over; we have a guest room. Drive down tomorrow morning in time to catch your flight. It will be easier than stopping south of here," Jimmy offered.

Ben was reluctant, but Aamani said, "Thank you, that is very kind. It has been a long day for us."

"Good, let's say we all go out to eat. The girls will love it and that way Ben and Simone can have more time to talk shop." Jimmy said.

Aamani thought that also an excellent idea but insisted on paying. She and Jimmy eventually agreed to split the bill. They ended at an inexpensive Italian restaurant just inside the county line. When Simone took the girls to the restroom, Ben excused himself as well, leaving Jimmy and Aamani alone.

"You do not approve," Aamani said, sipping the Chianti she had ordered.

Jimmy knew what she was saying and thought for a moment of playing dumb. But why bother?

"I'm aware that my wife is not faithful when she is away, but I've never met one of her lovers before."

"Is that how you see it? Infidelity, cheating?"

"You see it differently?"

"Yes, everyone needs someone to hold on to, more so when you are in a bad place and facing an uncertain future. A man needs a woman, and there is no woman alive who doesn't want a man to cling to when she is in danger."

"And you're not jealous?" he asked.

"Didn't say that. I'm human. Your wife is very pretty."

"And your fiancé is tall and handsome."

"Don't forget, very skilled in bed," she said smirking. "We both have much to be jealous of."

"BUT?" he said.

"Yes, there is a qualification. You can't help feeling a certain jealousy, yet, who wants the one they love to feel alone and in need? My Ben has come back to me, and as far as I can tell your wife to you—"

"So, what's my problem?"

"Precisely."

Jimmy didn't answer right away. It was the question; he had been asking himself. He was no child, but a man who was as near devoid of sentimentality as you get. He was, after all, at that moment defending a multiple murder, and as the illustrious Foxy Fitzgerald had so aptly pointed out, representing the guilty was a risk he had knowingly taken. So, why the high moral position when it came to the woman he loved?

"I guess, I'm pining for the innocence that we have lost," he finally said.

Aamani seemed to reflect, and then she smiled, "It's not what you lose in life but what you gain from living. You may have lost the girl, but I believe you now possess the woman.

As Simone exited the ladies' room, herding her daughters before her, Ben was waiting.

"Vicky, take your sister back to the table," Simone said to her oldest daughter.

Vicky gave Ben a suspicious look but said, "Yes mom."

When they were alone, Ben said, "I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. I just wanted to see how you were doing, and Aamani needed some reassurance that it was over between us. She talks a good game, but I suspect she's a bit jealous."

"I know. Jimmy knows what I do while I'm away. He just can't accept it. I'm hoping things get better. I hope things go well with you and Aamani."

"I think they will, but anything I can do for your situation?"

"Let's go back, that's a start."

When Simone reached the table, she expected a cool reception, but the atmosphere was relaxed and cheerful. Beth was explaining the intricacies of the plot line from Frozen to Aamani who both girls had taken a liking to. Even Ben seemed relaxed, and Jimmy helped his youngest daughter to tell the story of her favorite film.

For once, Simone reflected, they were a normal family, "If only this could last."

*

The acquittal of Roger Hamilton shocked the community. There was plenty of blame to go around when an obviously guilty man went free. However, the greatest share of the blame fell upon the devious machinations of the defense attorney, one so suitably named Foxy. The attorney, Fitzgerald, did little to aid his reputation by failing to face the cameras after the verdict and slipping out of the courthouse through a side door.

However, Foxy's tenure as lawyer enemy number one was short lived as he was displaced by the astounding news of the arrest of Samuel Gil a serial killer living among the innocent citizens of Van Patten county. A killer at large because of the duplicitous actions of one James O'Reilly his defense counsel.

O'Reilly was implicated, as Assistant Attorney General Eric Schwartz argued, by his contrivances with the suspect Sam Gil. "Attorney O'Reilly crossed the line from advocate to conspirator when he advised Gil to substitute a double for himself. Moreover, his representation of the trash company where the new evidence was found is a clear conflict of interest," Eric theorized. "The Bunono brothers are long standing clients of James O'Reilly, and they are crucial witnesses in any hearing to suppress the new evidence found."

"Is this true, counselor," the judge inquired of Jimmy.

"Yes, your honor, by coincidence, I do represent the witnesses Don and Andy Bunono and the petitioner Samuel Gil, and I did advise my client not to leave his home unattended while he was away. But I hardly see how that relates to whether the current demand for Mr. Gil's DNA is justified. Finding a pair of stocking in the trash is hardly new evidence."

"Your Honor ...," Eric began to interject.

"That's alright Mr. Schwartz, you may desist since I am inclined based on the prior decision of the Appellate Court in this matter to grant the State's latest request. That's assuming Mr. Bunono and his brother's testimony support the state's position, that the unique women's stocking removed from the trash is traceable to Samuel Gil. It then follows that I must disqualify Mr. O'Reilly on his dual representation of the witnesses and the accused. The state's right to a new test hinges on the testimony of witnesses represented by the defense counsel. A conflict exists irrespective of guilt. There exists a true divergence of interest. However, I see no merit in your assertions of misconduct on Mr. O'Reilly's part. He could hardly be held to know in advance that the police intended to search Mr. Gil's garbage."

Neither the Judge nor Eric contemplated that this was anything more than the normal legal elevation of form over substance. It was the usual legal contrivance for the public's benefit. No one contemplated that Jimmy, actually, had a hand in the game, that he was, in fact, involved, an actual actor and not just an advocate.

With the removal of the O'Reilly firm from Samuel Gil's defense, the public or at least its prosecutors gave a sigh of relief. The wicked defense attorney was removed. The evidence from the killer's trash would come in, and he would be required to give up his DNA. No mention was made of the unsuccessful attempts of the police to collect Gil's DNA from cast off items previously; attempts that had proved unsuccessful only because no match was found.

Carrie Wilson monitored the public outcry against her sometime lover with a jaundiced eye. This fish did stink, but why was a bit perplexing. Jimmy O'Reilly was too sharp to get caught out so easily. Something did stink.

But Anthony Greco had a different concern. "Is this guy still a special prosecutor in that correction's case?" Tony asked, having stormed into her cubbyhole of an office with his copy of the latest editorial about defense lawyers.

"As a matter of fact, I have Jimmy O'Reilly's final report in my out basket. The special counsel matter is closed and well under budget estimates," Carrie replied

"Good, the governor needs some distance from this defense scum. Do you know he was their teacher? I thought it was just that little shit, Fitzgerald, but the Governor appears to have had O'Reilly as a student as well," Tony griped as he took a seat.

Carrie was well aware of the governor's professorial relationship to the attorneys in question. The governor had bragged about it to whoever would listen. In particular, he was proud of coaching Foxy Fitzgerald in mock trial. Tony's distaste for Fitzgerald was equally obvious. It was the resentment of the other man for the husband. She waited for Tony to go about his business, but he remained fixedly seated in her office.

"Is there something else?" she inquired.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I would like your opinion," he said. But then paused.

She waited for him to go on, but there was an awkward silence before he continued, "I'm going to ask Susan to the Governor's Ball at the mansion," he said.

"You mean Mrs. Fitzgerald?"

"She goes by the last name of Singleton, and I'm hoping she will soon be Mrs. Anthony Greco."

"I see, she is divorcing her husband?" Carrie asked, having heard nothing of this previously.

"We haven't discussed it, but I'm assuming once I ask her to marry me."

"Wait—what are you telling me? Are you saying that you intend to propose to a woman still in a relationship with her husband?"

Tony was getting a bit annoyed. In his mind, no woman would want Foxy Fitzgerald over him.

"I know Susan and what she needs is a real man. Someone who can make her happy. Once she sees that I'm serious—"

"And if she's not? —Serious, I mean?"

"Then she'll get serious, once she knows we have a future," Tony contended.

"Well, if you made up your mind, what is the question?" Carrie asked.

"How big a deal do you think it will be if I bring her to the governor's ball without her husband?"

"Yes, of course, can't very well ask her to marry you with her husband standing there," Carrie said, considering the possible ramifications.

"The governor just hired her as his PR consultant. Won't look great to have her involved in a scandal first thing," Tony said.

"No, but then the lady does PR. I'm sure she can spin an effective reason for the absence of her husband, and not to offend your ego, neither she nor you are the stars of the ball. That will be the governor and the various politicians and celebrities. Will the governor like it? Probably not, but it will be little more than a blip on his radar," Carrie finished speculating.

"Anything else?" Carrie then asked.

"No, that's it," Tony said taking his leave.

When he was gone, Carrie thought the situation over. She decided on damage control just in case. She would have Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald added to the guest list but have the ball's secretary hold the invitation for pickup at the door. And then, she had an inspiration. Why not invite the James O'Reillys. Simone O'Reilly was a heroine in her way. The governor had publicly supported the returning health care workers. A shot of him dancing with one would go far to ease public fears and show the governor in a good light. The panic had faded in the preceding months, and now the governor could reap the reward for his courageous stand.

"And I wonder what Jimmy will look like in fancy dress," she thought.

*

It was officially designated as the Governor's Reception and Dance to celebrate the extensive renovations he had made to the Victorian governor's mansion along Eagle Street in Albany. Allegedly the home of New York Governors, few had spent more that a night in residence. New York's Governors live in New York City. On those occasions when they must spend the night in Albany, they found better accommodations than that old and uncomfortable structure.

The Mansion has long been allegedly haunted but was simply an old and poorly maintained building that groaned from age and countless ill-considered renovations and additions. It simply went bump in the night until Governor Kincade decided to fix it. Halfway through his four-year renovation of the building, he decided to throw himself a party. Not for the fun of it but to start the campaign for his White House bid. That was the only house he really longed to live in.

Kincade was not displeased to be told that his new PR consultant was coming. She did more than bring an astute mind to his campaign. She was a DeVoe on her mother's side with all that entailed, and she was the daughter of Joe Singleton. The DeVoe's were old money and Singleton new. Susan DeVoe/Singleton had a first name relationship with most of the super rich in what is rightly called the Empire State. The fact that her husband would not be in attendance was regrettable but no great loss. Steven Fitzgerald was hardly an addition to any gathering. His current notoriety might be good for his practice, but he was scarcely the person you wanted a photo op with.