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Chapter 8
When Lionel and Minx were gone, Julia’s thoughts went back to Mason. So – he knew her secret now. And
it was not as scary as she had imagined; not a bit!
It must be him, who else could it be? Pearl was away, she was positive. But – how… uncharacteristically
sweet of Mason. Why would he do that?
Julia wished she had known for sure. She turned the teddy bear so that it’d face her. “Who brought you?”
she asked aloud and shook it a little. “Was that who I think that was?” The bear seemed to nod.
She turned to find the remote control for calling a nurse and saw a Christmas stocking hanging above the
head of her bed. Ah! there must be the answer. She took it off the wall and thrust her hand in. A sucker,
another sucker. Oh yes, a card. She opened it.
“I am sorry.
Merry Christmas, and good luck with your endeavor,”
was all it said, and no name. No need for one, actually: Julia knew Mason’s hand, after she’d got so many
briefs and notes from him, and evidently, he did not doubt it.
*
Sophia helped Mason pick two good nannies. Eden talked him into trying to settle Matthew in the nursery
they had designed with Mary. She said Matt’d feel closer to his missing mother in a place holding a bit of her
warmth, reflecting her personality, a place Mary had designed with love. Eden also said one was to stop
running from life. Life was worth living, every minute of it. And since Mason and Matthew were still alive…
Mason himself was good enough at coming up with a ready-made cliché for every situation. So he let Eden
convince him – but he really, really dreaded taking Matt home. Yes, the nannies, they would help, of course.
But God knew the kind of father he was most likely to become. In all honesty, CC’s parental experience did
not suddenly seem so bad to Mason. He feared he’d make a much worse dad than his patriarch of a father.
One way to deal with life was to get absorbed in work. A suitable way, since, as it appeared, he was not
born for marital happiness. Though Mason had quit the office, he was still an efficient attorney (probably the
best one in Santa Barbara) and he immediately got several job offers. He just had to pick one. CC wanted
him to join the Capwell Enterprises, but Mason politely declined the offer. What good had ever come out of
Nazareth? CC really wished to support him, at the moment, but pretty soon he would have started to
reproach him with it, and Mason had been his father’s choice scapegoat long enough; thank you very much,
sir.
Finally Mason chose to accept the partnership in an established firm of Smith, Caufield & McKenna. The
firm was well-known, and partnership in it was not to be sneezed at; in their turn, they were also glad to get
him to themselves.
After the ritual dances were completed they suggested that Mason should see for himself what their work
was like. For instance, why didn’t he help them pick an attorney to fill another position? He must have known
lots of them, with his rich practice.
“The first person who applied, - well, she’s out of the question,” said Smith looking through the list of
applicants.
“Why?” Mason said disinterestedly.
“She’s acted unprofessionally recently, you know. Just because she disliked her client and what he had
done, she deliberately let him down.”
“Unprofessional,” agreed Mason. “Whatever the client’s done, an attorney’s hired to do their best.”
“So, crossing out Ms Wainwright--”
Mason stopped short.
“Ms Wainwright, you’re saying?” he asked again.
“Yes: the one who proved unprofessional.”
Mason stood up and paced the room. “The case you’re basing your conclusions on, - isn’t it McCormick vs.
McCormick, sir?”
“I believe that was it. Of course if there was any proof it was intentional Ms. Wainwright would have been
disbarred long ago, I hear--”
Here it was, hitting him in the face.
At the trial, he himself could not believe Julia was doing it; he couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears, but
pretending to make a blunder after a blunder, she was, giving Mason every opportunity to destroy Mark
without a slightest objection on her part. He had to ask her a straight-forward question at last, and she gave
him an honest answer. She knew he had little evidence, since Mary hadn’t been to the police or to hospital
immediately after the rape, and any other attorney would easily prove Mark right; as to Julia, she just said
she trusted Mary and loathed what Mark had done to her.
Now it was coming back at him.
“Excuse me,” he said slowly. “I did not know it was Ms. Wainwright we were talking about. I know Ms.
Wainwright perfectly well, and I think her to be the best attorney in town, maybe the best attorney in this
state. If you ask me, she’s my only equal in this field. Ms. Wainwright is a highly accomplished professional,
and I was begging her to be the assistant D.A.; when she declined, it was due to some personal reasons,
but I kept coming back asking her again and again. By the way, Ms. Wainwright is famous for being a
workaholic which is never bad for an employee, is it?”
He smiled wryly, trying to add a lighter note to what he stated so earnestly.
“But Mr. Capwell. Whatever her knowledge is, her professional ethics is proven faulty. We cannot hire her.”
A muscle in Mason’s jaw tightened.
“I am not so sure. Do you know what the case of McCormick vs. McCormick was about, sir?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Capwell, not really. Does that make any difference?”
“Yes, sir, if you please. A beautiful, innocent young woman, and mind it, she was pregnant, was violated by
a beast of a husband. She was too shy to go to the police at once; she just wanted to pretend it had not
happened, that is why there was no evidence. Mr. McCormick insisted she herself had wanted it. He was
known for having treated women violently in the past, but it was hard to prove, and it was harder to prove
that had anything to do with how he treated his wife. Do you know how many women and children perish
due to home violence?”
Mason paused. Obviously it was getting out of control.
“Moreover, I am not sure Ms. Wainwright acted unprofessionally,” he added cautiously. “Maybe she did her
best, and notwithstanding this, McCormick just lost the case because he was guilty and justice was done,
Mr. Smith?”
“This is all very interesting, Mr. Capwell,” said Smith taking off his glasses. “But really, the way it looks it
does go contrary to what an attorney’s duty was.”
“It is what any--” Mason stopped. “Mr. Smith, will you please hear me out. Mrs. McCormick was my wife. My
late wife.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Capwell.”
“And it was me who was Ms. Wainwright’s opponent in the case. If you had known my wife you would not
have been surprised,” Mason proceeded feverishly. “Mrs. McCormick -- my Mary was an ex-nun. She was
truly religious, innocent; there was that genuine goodness about her.” He paused, trying to regain control.
“She helped so many underprivileged kids and grownups, too, in the clinic for the poor, and in the mission,
sir. Not me, many people said she was an angel sent to us. When I started investigating it, sir, I found at
least two women who had suffered from Mr. McCormick, but as bad luck would have it, I could not use either
of them as a witness against him.”
“I am really sorry about your loss, Mr. Capwell,” said Smith. “I still cannot see why we should hire an
attorney who let her feelings dictate her actions. She should not have agreed to represent Mr. McCormick if
she did not appreciate what he had done, that is all.”
Mason bit his lip. “Very well, sir. I’m very grateful for the offer; I would have been really happy and honored
to be a partner in your firm. Thanks again. If I cannot talk you into hiring Ms. Wainwright, I understand it’s no
use, sir, and I have to take my leave now.”
He had trouble resisting the temptation to slam the door shut.
/Olga Lissenkova/
When Lionel and Minx were gone, Julia’s thoughts went back to Mason. So – he knew her secret now. And
it was not as scary as she had imagined; not a bit!
It must be him, who else could it be? Pearl was away, she was positive. But – how… uncharacteristically
sweet of Mason. Why would he do that?
Julia wished she had known for sure. She turned the teddy bear so that it’d face her. “Who brought you?”
she asked aloud and shook it a little. “Was that who I think that was?” The bear seemed to nod.
She turned to find the remote control for calling a nurse and saw a Christmas stocking hanging above the
head of her bed. Ah! there must be the answer. She took it off the wall and thrust her hand in. A sucker,
another sucker. Oh yes, a card. She opened it.
“I am sorry.
Merry Christmas, and good luck with your endeavor,”
was all it said, and no name. No need for one, actually: Julia knew Mason’s hand, after she’d got so many
briefs and notes from him, and evidently, he did not doubt it.
*
Sophia helped Mason pick two good nannies. Eden talked him into trying to settle Matthew in the nursery
they had designed with Mary. She said Matt’d feel closer to his missing mother in a place holding a bit of her
warmth, reflecting her personality, a place Mary had designed with love. Eden also said one was to stop
running from life. Life was worth living, every minute of it. And since Mason and Matthew were still alive…
Mason himself was good enough at coming up with a ready-made cliché for every situation. So he let Eden
convince him – but he really, really dreaded taking Matt home. Yes, the nannies, they would help, of course.
But God knew the kind of father he was most likely to become. In all honesty, CC’s parental experience did
not suddenly seem so bad to Mason. He feared he’d make a much worse dad than his patriarch of a father.
One way to deal with life was to get absorbed in work. A suitable way, since, as it appeared, he was not
born for marital happiness. Though Mason had quit the office, he was still an efficient attorney (probably the
best one in Santa Barbara) and he immediately got several job offers. He just had to pick one. CC wanted
him to join the Capwell Enterprises, but Mason politely declined the offer. What good had ever come out of
Nazareth? CC really wished to support him, at the moment, but pretty soon he would have started to
reproach him with it, and Mason had been his father’s choice scapegoat long enough; thank you very much,
sir.
Finally Mason chose to accept the partnership in an established firm of Smith, Caufield & McKenna. The
firm was well-known, and partnership in it was not to be sneezed at; in their turn, they were also glad to get
him to themselves.
After the ritual dances were completed they suggested that Mason should see for himself what their work
was like. For instance, why didn’t he help them pick an attorney to fill another position? He must have known
lots of them, with his rich practice.
“The first person who applied, - well, she’s out of the question,” said Smith looking through the list of
applicants.
“Why?” Mason said disinterestedly.
“She’s acted unprofessionally recently, you know. Just because she disliked her client and what he had
done, she deliberately let him down.”
“Unprofessional,” agreed Mason. “Whatever the client’s done, an attorney’s hired to do their best.”
“So, crossing out Ms Wainwright--”
Mason stopped short.
“Ms Wainwright, you’re saying?” he asked again.
“Yes: the one who proved unprofessional.”
Mason stood up and paced the room. “The case you’re basing your conclusions on, - isn’t it McCormick vs.
McCormick, sir?”
“I believe that was it. Of course if there was any proof it was intentional Ms. Wainwright would have been
disbarred long ago, I hear--”
Here it was, hitting him in the face.
At the trial, he himself could not believe Julia was doing it; he couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears, but
pretending to make a blunder after a blunder, she was, giving Mason every opportunity to destroy Mark
without a slightest objection on her part. He had to ask her a straight-forward question at last, and she gave
him an honest answer. She knew he had little evidence, since Mary hadn’t been to the police or to hospital
immediately after the rape, and any other attorney would easily prove Mark right; as to Julia, she just said
she trusted Mary and loathed what Mark had done to her.
Now it was coming back at him.
“Excuse me,” he said slowly. “I did not know it was Ms. Wainwright we were talking about. I know Ms.
Wainwright perfectly well, and I think her to be the best attorney in town, maybe the best attorney in this
state. If you ask me, she’s my only equal in this field. Ms. Wainwright is a highly accomplished professional,
and I was begging her to be the assistant D.A.; when she declined, it was due to some personal reasons,
but I kept coming back asking her again and again. By the way, Ms. Wainwright is famous for being a
workaholic which is never bad for an employee, is it?”
He smiled wryly, trying to add a lighter note to what he stated so earnestly.
“But Mr. Capwell. Whatever her knowledge is, her professional ethics is proven faulty. We cannot hire her.”
A muscle in Mason’s jaw tightened.
“I am not so sure. Do you know what the case of McCormick vs. McCormick was about, sir?” he asked.
“No, Mr. Capwell, not really. Does that make any difference?”
“Yes, sir, if you please. A beautiful, innocent young woman, and mind it, she was pregnant, was violated by
a beast of a husband. She was too shy to go to the police at once; she just wanted to pretend it had not
happened, that is why there was no evidence. Mr. McCormick insisted she herself had wanted it. He was
known for having treated women violently in the past, but it was hard to prove, and it was harder to prove
that had anything to do with how he treated his wife. Do you know how many women and children perish
due to home violence?”
Mason paused. Obviously it was getting out of control.
“Moreover, I am not sure Ms. Wainwright acted unprofessionally,” he added cautiously. “Maybe she did her
best, and notwithstanding this, McCormick just lost the case because he was guilty and justice was done,
Mr. Smith?”
“This is all very interesting, Mr. Capwell,” said Smith taking off his glasses. “But really, the way it looks it
does go contrary to what an attorney’s duty was.”
“It is what any--” Mason stopped. “Mr. Smith, will you please hear me out. Mrs. McCormick was my wife. My
late wife.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Capwell.”
“And it was me who was Ms. Wainwright’s opponent in the case. If you had known my wife you would not
have been surprised,” Mason proceeded feverishly. “Mrs. McCormick -- my Mary was an ex-nun. She was
truly religious, innocent; there was that genuine goodness about her.” He paused, trying to regain control.
“She helped so many underprivileged kids and grownups, too, in the clinic for the poor, and in the mission,
sir. Not me, many people said she was an angel sent to us. When I started investigating it, sir, I found at
least two women who had suffered from Mr. McCormick, but as bad luck would have it, I could not use either
of them as a witness against him.”
“I am really sorry about your loss, Mr. Capwell,” said Smith. “I still cannot see why we should hire an
attorney who let her feelings dictate her actions. She should not have agreed to represent Mr. McCormick if
she did not appreciate what he had done, that is all.”
Mason bit his lip. “Very well, sir. I’m very grateful for the offer; I would have been really happy and honored
to be a partner in your firm. Thanks again. If I cannot talk you into hiring Ms. Wainwright, I understand it’s no
use, sir, and I have to take my leave now.”
He had trouble resisting the temptation to slam the door shut.
/Olga Lissenkova/