“I’m simply laying the foundation.”
“Well, go ahead with the superstructure. We haven’t all night. You yourself said you were in a hurry.”
I said, “I believe my words were that there wasn’t any time to waste. If you think I’m wasting it, you’re crazy.”
Roberta Fenn smiled.
“Go ahead,” Edna Cutler challenged.
“You found Roberta Fenn. She was very much on the loose. You had a little money. You wanted to give her your apartment rent free. Perhaps you offered to pay her something in addition. The only condition you made was that she was to keep your name, receive your mail, forward it on to you, and tell anyone who asked that she was Edna Cutler. You may have told her you expected papers to be served on you in a divorce suit. Perhaps you didn’t.”
“In any event, your husband walked into the trap. He went to his lawyers. He told them all about the cause of action he had, and the lawyers suggested that they file a complaint which just stated facts sufficient to constitute a cause of action. Then if you started fighting, they’d amend the complaint and drag in all the dirt. They asked your husband where you were, and he gave them the address in New Orleans. The lawyers, steeped in the legal lore of the profession, concentrated all their attention on working the old trick of filing a relatively innocuous complaint, but letting you know that if you tried to protect yourself, they’d come down on you with an avalanche of mud.”
The mere mention of it made Edna’s eyes glitter. “And you think that was fair?”
“No. It’s a lousy trick. It’s one that lawyers work all the time.”
“The effect of it was to deprive me of any opportunity to fight for my rights.”