Regret
By Ayesha Haqqiqa
It was a lousy end to a lousy week. The jury had acquitted in the McLeod murder trial, and two plea bargains had fallen through, which meant prosecuting two more defendants whose cases were not all that strong. And Jack put the full blame for all of this on the shoulders of his assistant, Sally Bell. It had become apparent in the last few weeks that her heart just wasn’t in prosecution; she identified too closely with the defendants instead of their victims. And nothing Jack could say or do would make her change her attitude.
There was tension in the office that Friday. Jack spent the day marking time, trying not to say anything to Sally that would start another fight. For their arguments at work had spilled over into their private lives, which they had shared on an intimate basis for over a year. They had tumbled into each other’s arms soon after Sally’s arrival as Jack’s assistant. Jack, depressed over the break-up of his fourteen-year marriage, had gone to her willingly, grateful for company that helped ease his heartache. And even though they were distancing themselves professionally, Jack hoped that they could keep seeing each other. Frankly, he was afraid of the loneliness that would ensue if Sally left.
So he stayed politely formal at work, hoping that nothing he said or did would set Sally off. She appeared to be doing the same thing; she had only come to his office once that morning, and now it was late afternoon. It was time for their daily meeting together, and she was late.
“Be cool about it, McCoy,” he said to himself. “Get through this meeting and you can take her out for dinner and leave the week behind.” He was busy studying a motion when Sally came into the room, a little breathless. He looked up at her and nodded. “Arthur Gold is moving to suppress evidence in the Lawrence kidnapping case,” he told her. “He contends that the typewriter used to write the ransom notes was obtained as a result of an illegal search.”
“I’ll get the police reports and check the warrant,” Sally said formally.
“Good.” Jack played with the papers on his desk. “We have to get the Adams and Morgan cases ready for pre-trial motions next week. It would help if the police could dig up more evidence.”
“I can ask them to,” Sally said, “but I don’t think it will do much good, since both men are innocent.”
“That’s what you told me when we went in to plea bargains, and that’s what you intimated to the defense counsel in both cases,” Jack said, trying to control his temper. “I told you earlier, fine, get me other suspects that fit the bill, but you haven’t been able to deliver. We’ve got to go ahead with these prosecutions. It is likely that they are guilty.”
“Is it, Jack?” Sally’s voice raised a notch. “Or is it just your need for vengeance coming out? You said their guilt is ‘likely’—not beyond a reasonable doubt!”
“What would you have me do, Sally, empty the jails of everyone whose case is based on circumstantial evidence? That would take away most of our defendants. They would be free to go out and rape and murder again.”
“If they were guilty.” Sally looked at Jack with troubled eyes. “It’s not that I don’t feel for the victims, Jack—it’s just that I think the defendants should get a fair shake, too. Better that three guilty men go free than to incarcerate one innocent man, in my book.”
“Until you are the victim of one of those three guilty men,” Jack growled. He looked at her. “Our job here is to represent the People of New York County, more specifically, the victims of crime.”
“That’s funny, I thought our job was to find the truth,” Sally countered.
“That, too,” Jack conceded. “But the truth sometimes is elusive. We have to go with what we have and do the best we can do.” He looked at her and sighed.
“The best we can do. That’s right.” Sally looked at the floor. “Jack, I did a lot of soul searching this afternoon. It’s just not working out here. I think I’m better suited working across the aisle.” She looked at him. “I’ve applied for a job at the Public Defender’s office and given Adam my resignation, effective two weeks from today.”
Jack sat there, stunned. “You’ve already given your notice?” he finally managed to say. “Isn’t that premature? What if the Public Defender’s—“
Sally smiled at him. “Jack,” she said, “I talked with them today, and was assured that my application would be approved. You know that they are always short-handed. They seemed happy to have me come over to them.”
“Well, yes…anyone would be lucky to have you,” Jack said. He gathered the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “Well, I don’t quite know what to say, except that I hope your move across the aisle doesn’t affect our relationship outside the office.”
Sally leaned over and put her hand on his. “Come on, Jack, you know it will,” she said.
“I’ll avoid prosecuting any cases you represent. Then there will be no conflict of interest,” Jack said, looking into her eyes pleadingly.
Sally had tears in her eyes. “Jack, it’s more than a matter of ethics. It’s a matter of outlook. You’re fiery and driven. This office, your job, will always mean more to you than any woman in your life. I’m more laid back, and I’m looking for a man who cares about me more than his work.”
“But I care about you, Sally!” Jack cried in desperation. “You are my lifesaver, I’ve told you that—“
“You’ve told me that I relieve the tension after a long week at work—but then, so does a stiff drink. Every time we’re together, you talk about the law, and conversation always gets back to some case you’ve tried or are going to try. In the year we’ve been together, I’ve learned to ride your motorcycle, but you’ve never learned what I like to do. You’ve never even tried.”
Jack was in shock. “Sally, I thought you liked the same things I liked,” he said.
“You could have asked. Or taken the time to look around my apartment before heading straight for the bedroom,” Sally’s voice was sad. “If you had, you’d know I’m interested in philosophy and painting and helping worthy causes, like Refugees International.”
“You never told me,” Jack countered defensively. “You could have brought it up.”
“Would you have let me?” Sally shook her head. “When we’re alone, it’s like your still in the courtroom, delivering a summation. All eyes have to be on you and you alone.”
“I’m-not-like-that,” Jack’s face was white. “I love you, Sally. I need you.”
“For what? Companionship? We do not make good companions, Jack. We’re just too different.” She turned her head. “I’d like you to give me my key back. I’ve brought yours.” She laid Jack’s apartment key on his desk, and rose to go. “I’m sorry it had to end like this. I’m sorry that it even started. If I had realized what would happen…. Anyway, I’m cleaning my apartment this weekend. I’ll bring over anything of yours that I find. You can give me my key then.” She looked back at him, and he saw tears flowing down her cheeks. “Give me a minute, and then I’ll go.” She took a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her face. “I’m sorry,” she said one more time, and then left.
Jack was still sitting at his desk, staring into space, when Adam came by. “Have a good weekend, my boy,” he said gruffly as he passed Jack’s door. When Jack didn’t reply, Adam came in. “Taking Sally’s leaving a bit hard,” he stated.
“Yes,” Jack said finally. He looked at Adam. “I knew it was coming, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”
Adam nodded. “She’ll do better on the other side of the aisle,” he said. “Come by my office Monday morning and we’ll talk about a replacement for her. If the PDO accepts her application, I think she’ll want to move over there some time next week. I won’t hold her to her two weeks, unless you want me to.”
“No, no, that will be fine,” Jack said, distracted.
Adam looked at him, concerned. “Time to go home, Jack.”
“Yeah, I know. Got one or two little things to do and then I’ll be out of here.”
Adam nodded and went on his way.
Jack sat and watched as all the other lawyers and clerks left the building. Soon his was the only light shining, and he went to his door and shut it. Returning to his desk, he got out the bottle of Scotch and the glass that were always in his bottom drawer. He poured himself a triple and downed it in two gulps. He choked a bit, but poured himself another drink, then another…
He woke up the next morning, fully clothed, in his own bed. He had no clue how he got there. All he knew was he had a raging headache, and his stomach-- He ran down the hall to the bathroom, and came back weak and wobbly. He fell back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling.
The pain was worse than when he broke up with Barbara. In fact, he still felt the pain from his divorce, and now added to it was the pain of breaking up with Sally. In a way, they were linked, his divorce and Sally. He’d looked on her as a lifesaver, taking his mind off the regrets of the past. And now here he was, facing those same old regrets and some new ones besides.
It was foolish to get involved with Sally. He was still hurting from his divorce, seeking any comfort he could find. And there she was, his new assistant. He’d seen her as a hero-worshipping lawyer who shared his interests and desires. She was right when she said he’d never got to know her as a person. And the worst part of it all was he thought he would have liked that person if he’d given her a chance.
Jack rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. Sally knew him far better than he knew himself. Well, so did Barbara. What had they both said, using almost the same words? Something about Jack being more interested in his job than in them. Jack shook his head, and instantly regretted it. He groaned, and got up to go make coffee.
The knock on the door came as he was putting coffee in the filter. He went to the door and answered it. It was Sally, carrying a box.
“I found a few things of yours, and brought them over,” she said awkwardly. “I don’t think I left anything here, but if you find something—“
“I’ll bring it to work,” Jack said. He looked at her pleadingly. “Won’t you come in and have some coffee?”
“No, Jack, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said, looking at the floor. “If you just give me my key, I’ll be on my way.”
“Yeah, your key.” Jack went over to his desk and began searching for it. Maybe if I take long enough, she’ll come inside, he thought. Then we can talk about things, talk this out.
But she stayed at the door until he finally found the key and brought it to her.
“Thanks,” she said, turning to go. Then she looked back at him. “You know, under different circumstances, I think I could have grown to really love you, Jack McCoy.” Then she turned around and was gone.
Jack stood, looking at the closed door, and shivered. Better get a hot shower, he thought to himself. He walked slowly to the bathroom and stripped down. He turned on the water and got the temperature just right, then got in. He leaned against the shower wall. The cascading water camouflaged the tears that fell from his eyes as the pain of regret tore at his heart.