Read Online The Mourning Sexton by Michael Baron - Free Book Online Page B

victims of the wrongdoing. You've lost a loved one. That's one of the reasons I'm here tonight. I need to learn more about you and her. Were you close? Did you spend time together?”
    “When? When she was little? She lived here, for God's sake. Of course we spent time together.”
    “What about later? What about her last few years?”
    Shifrin turn and stared at the base of the lamp, a tense little man with his arms crossed over his chest.
    Still looking away, he said, “We had our ups and downs. What father and daughter don't?” He gave a resigned shrug. “They become teenagers, Mr. Hirsch, and everything gets crazy, and then they decide that they're adults and all of a sudden the whole world turns topsy-turvy, and then on top of all that her mother dies.” Shifrin turned toward him, his face flushed with anger. “I do not like this, sir. I do not like this one bit. This lawsuit should be about those bastards killing my only child. It's not about whether I took her to the zoo on Sunday or read her a bedtime story. I had a business to run and a dying wife in my bedroom, and then I had a dead wife and a daughter who—” He shook his head and then patted his chest. “Believe me, sir, I had plenty of
tsouris
.”
    Hirsch suggested that they look at family albums, hoping that old photographs might help ease them into a discussion of his relationship with his daughter. Shifrin went back to one of the bedrooms and returned with three worn albums.
    The old photographs worked for a while. Shifrin grew sentimental over pictures spanning Judith's toddler and elementary school days—shots of him pushing her in a stroller at the zoo, of the two of them seated together on a picnic blanket in the park, of him holding her on a merry-go-round, of him and his wife standing proud at a piano recital with their grade school daughter seated at the piano in a starched white dress and black patent leather shoes. But the later photos, especially the ones that included cousins and family friends, seemed to highlight the widening gaps in his memory. His mood shifted from teary nostalgia to teary frustration as he tried to remember the names of the people in the photos. He slammed the album closed and squeezed his eyes shut.
     
    “I'm sorry,” Shifrin told him at the front door. “I get upset with my brain. Maybe we can try again in a few days?”
    Hirsch adjusted the two photo albums under his arm. “Sounds good.”
    Shifrin forced a smile. “So what's our next step?”
    “I'm meeting with an expert tomorrow.”
    “What kind?”
    “Medical.”
    “A doctor? Why a doctor?”
    “To go over some matters related to the accident.” He shook the old man's hand. “I'll be back in touch, Mr. Shifrin. Have a good evening.”
    “You, too, sir.”
     
    Hirsch sat in his car in front of Shifrin's bungalow, letting the engine warm up. Tomorrow's meeting with Dr. Granger had suddenly become key. He hadn't learned all the details that night, but it was clear that Shifrin's relationship with his daughter had been troubled, especially toward the end. Somehow, Guttner had discovered that as well.
    Which didn't mean that he couldn't patch together a claim for loss of companionship. Enlargements of the best of those father-daughter photos, placed on an easel in front of the jury would help. But pretty pictures alone would never make the loss of companionship claim worth big money, especially at the settlement stage.
    And that left him with one last angle for boosting damages. When Shifrin asked him why a medical expert, he'd been vague. He wanted to spare the old man the anguish that any father would feel if told that the expert was a pathologist who might be able to determine from the medical records whether his daughter had been conscious for at least a few seconds after the impact. If so, the jury would be allowed to award damages for pain and suffering, and that would significantly increase the settlement value. If not, well, he'd be left with