“That is what he told me.”
“And you explained to him that you couldn’t help him? That unless his wife was
willing to give him a divorce, it would be difficult or impossible for him to obtain one, and
that there very well might be publicity?”
“That is correct.”
“So, short of taking desperate measures, there was nothing the defendant could—”
“Objection!”
“Sustained.”
“Your witness.”
Napoleon Chotas lifted himself out of his chair with a sigh and slowly walked over to
the witness. Peter Demonides was not worried. Minos was a lawyer and too experienced
to be deceived by Chotas’ forensic bag of tricks.
“You’re an attorney, Mr. Minos.”
“I am.”
“And an excellent one, I’m sure. I’m surprised that our professional paths have not
crossed sooner. The firm I’m with deals in many branches of law. Perhaps you’ve run
across one of my partners in some corporate litigation?”
“No. I don’t do corporate work.”
“I beg your pardon. Perhaps in some tax case, then?”
“I am not a tax lawyer.”
“Oh.” Chotas was beginning to look puzzled and ill-at-ease, as though he was making
a fool of himself. “Securities?”
“No.” Minos was beginning to enjoy the lawyer’s humiliation. His face took on a
smug look and Peter Demonides began to worry. How many times had he seen that look
on the faces of witnesses that Napoleon Chotas was preparing for the slaughter?
Chotas was scratching his head in bafflement. “I give up,” he said ingenuously.
“What kind of law do you specialize in?”
“Divorce cases.” The answer was a barbed shaft, perfectly delivered.
A rueful look appeared on Chotas’ face and he shook his head. “I should have known
my good friend Mr. Demonides would have an expert up here.”
“Thank you, sir.” Alexis Minos made no attempt to conceal his smugness now. Not
every witness got a chance to score off Chotas and in Minos’ mind he was already
embellishing the story to tell at the club that evening.
“I’ve never even handled a divorce case,” Chotas was confiding in an embarrassed
voice, “so I’ll have to defer to your expertise.”