Read Online Sheer Gall by Michael A. Kahn - Free Book Online

I said, going along. “Under your scenario, then, who beat her up?”
    He shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe no one.”
    I shook my head. “No way. I saw the injuries. They looked real to me.”
    â€œSo does good makeup.” He paused, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Of course, there are other possibilities. Perhaps the injuries were real but the attacker was someone else.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    He stood up and moved toward the window. “A current boyfriend?” He turned to face me, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Maybe after the beating, as she looked at her injuries in the mirror, she suddenly saw a chance to spin straw into gold: she could concoct a fake story around real injuries and use it to extract money out of my client.”
    I frowned skeptically. “That’s pretty farfetched.”
    â€œI’ve had circumstances far stranger. I’m certain you have as well.” He paused. “Here’s another scenario. What if Sally didn’t hire you?”
    I gave him a puzzled look. “But she did.”
    He nodded, his expression serious. “Did you ever wonder why she decided to hire you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou don’t handle much personal injury work, right?”
    â€œI’ve had one or two cases.”
    â€œDid you know her at all before she hired you?”
    â€œNo, but I’d heard of her, and apparently she’d heard of me.” I smiled. “Maybe she felt more comfortable with a woman attorney.”
    Jonathan nodded pensively. “Perhaps. If so, though, there were several women in the personal injury field she knew far better than you. Perhaps she wanted someone who didn’t know her.”
    He reached into his suit jacket as he approached my desk and removed a 5x7 photograph. “Here,” he said as he handed it to me. “Is that the woman who hired you to sue my client?”
    It was a color portrait shot of Sally Wade. I placed it on the desk. “Yep.”
    â€œAre you positive?”
    I gazed up at him curiously. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
    â€œYou met her only once. You told the police that she wore sunglasses during most of the meeting and that her upper lip was swollen. Those are less than optimal conditions for accurate observations.” He sat down and leaned toward the desk to slide the photograph closer to me. “Look at it carefully, Rachel. Take your time.”
    I did, and as I studied Sally’s face I gradually realized that I couldn’t be absolutely certain that I was staring at the same person who had retained me. I was still fairly sure, but I couldn’t guarantee it. The problem was that Sally didn’t have distinctive features. The hairstyle and hair color looked the same, as I recalled. The eyes in the photo were blue, and that’s the color I seemed to remember from the meeting. I couldn’t recall the shape of her eyes—just that one of them was swollen and bruised. I couldn’t be certain about the shape of her nose, or, for that matter, her lips, or her chin, or her neck.
    I looked up from the photo with a frown. “I think it’s the same person.”
    â€œWhat if it’s not? What if you were hired by an impostor?”
    â€œOh, brother.” I shook my head good-naturedly. “Jonathan, you can spin out these alternative realities all day long, but we both know that the most likely story is the one I’ve alleged in the lawsuit.”
    â€œUnless you believe my client.”
    â€œWell, I don’t.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œBecause I believe my client.”
    â€œWhy didn’t she file a police report?”
    That was, of course, the very question I’d been asking myself. “I don’t know,” I conceded.
    â€œBut you told her to file one.”
    â€œTrue,” I acknowledged. “But it certainly wouldn’t be the first time a client failed