Tomorrow Never Knows

By Ayesha Haqqiqa

It had been a bad defeat. Sure, the odds had been against him, but Jack McCoy was convinced the jury would believe the strong circumstantial evidence against Jacob P. Morgan, millionaire. Instead, they had deliberated only an hour before returning the verdict of not guilty. The press was having a field day, labeling the case as a witch-hunt, or Nora Lewin’s brazen grab for publicity before the upcoming elections.

“Way to go, McCoy,” Roland Lincoln had said just before the meeting of the Executive District Attorneys took place. “If you wanted to put egg on Lewin’s face, you chose the right time and place.” He had leered at Jack, which made McCoy want to slug him. But Nora Lewin had not alluded to the trial or its aftermath at the meeting. Instead, she kept to the agenda, going over court dockets and trying to make sure that the executives were allowing their assistants ample time in the courtroom.

“This is the way they learn, this is the way they improve,” she said. “And this is the way we can make sure we get justice for the people of New York County.” She looked around the table. “Saul Peters. Your department has been doing a fine job with drug prosecution, but I want to see more of your people at the table when you go up against the big dealers. Show the defense “dream team” we have several weapons in our arsenal, too.” She turned to Lincoln. “Roland, your Robbery Division shows the highest conviction rate, but it is all on your shoulders. You’ve got to give your ADAs a chance. There have been rumblings.”

“Rumblings?” Lincoln glared. “I run a tight ship, and I—“

“Have a group of ADAs ready to jump that ship,” Nora said. “I won’t have promising talent lured away. Work on a schedule so that your senior ADA takes an active role in your prosecutions, and doesn’t just warm the second chair.”

She turned at looked at Jack, and McCoy braced himself for what he was sure to come. But she surprised him by saying simply, “Jack, you’ve really brought Abbie along. You’ve given her responsibility, and helped her when she needed it. Keep up the good work.”

She went on to talk about the upcoming Bar Association convention, which she urged all the Executives to attend. She adjourned the meeting, and the men got up to leave. “Jack,” she said, “would you stay here for a moment?”

Jack sighed and turned toward Nora. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lincoln grinning. Nora ignored the other EADA; her eyes, steady and clear, were on Jack. He looked at her, trying to read her expression. He finally gave up, and slumped onto the couch.

“I’m ready, Nora,” he sighed. “I guarantee you can’t say anything to me I haven’t already said to myself.”

“Really?” Nora raised her brows as she paced back and forth. “Are you psychic, Mr. McCoy?”

Jack ran his hand through his hair. “It doesn’t take a psychic to know I let you down on the Morgan case.”

“So you think I am angry about the outcome of the Morgan case?”

Jack looked at her. “Of course! I made a mess of it, and you caught the repercussions!”

Nora stopped her pacing and shook her head. “I’m a big girl, Jack. We’re no longer in college, working on the Law Review.”

“Well, if it’s not the Morgan case, what is it?” Jack asked, confused.

Nora took the chair by the couch. She looked at Jack and the ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Jack McCoy. You are still back in college in one way. You still think you need to protect me from the cold, cruel world. But I’m no longer that starry-eyed freshman who worshipped the ground you walked on. I grew up, Jack, and I can take care of myself.” She reached out her hand and patted his sleeve. “You need to relax more, Jack. Relax, and float down stream.”

Jack’s eyebrows went up. “You’re quoting old Beatle lyrics to me, Nora? What are you doing, trying to take me back down memory lane?”

“In a way, yes,” Nora said. “Remember the night you graduated? How happy you were? We talked for hours in the little coffee shop near the campus. You told me you were ready to take on the world.”

“And the world took on me,” Jack said sadly. “Yes, I remember that night. All those ambitions are gone now, ground into dust.”

“But your love of the law is still here, burning bright as ever,” Nora said. “Your quest for truth is still ongoing. But you’re not helping yourself in your quest when you beat yourself against a wall. You’ve had your defeats, but you’ve had your victories. And even in this last defeat there was a victory. You gave it all you had, and you never gave up. That is all I ask of any EADA, and that is all I ask of you, especially of you.”

Jack looked into her eyes. “Especially of me?” he asked.

Nora nodded. “Some of those feelings I had for the great Jack McCoy never went away,” she said simply.

Jack wasn’t sure what she meant. Nora was smiling at him gently, but made no move. “Feelings of friendship, you mean,’ he said finally.

Nora’s smile broadened. She said, “Yes, Jack, you could call it feelings of friendship. And, as a friend, I want you to take care of yourself more! How long has it been since you took a day off?”

“I take my annual vacation about every two years,” Jack admitted.

“If then,” Nora said. “I checked your record. You have four weeks coming to you, Jack. I don’t want you to take them all, but I’d like it if you took a few days off. Rest. Ride that motorcycle of yours out on Long Island, or up to the Catskills. Get a change of scene!”

“If I take them now, it will be perceived as me running away from my defeat,” Jack said, “leaving you here to fend off the wolves.”

“Jack,” Nora said quietly but firmly. He looked at her. “I know why you’re taking the time off, and that’s all that matters. As for fending off wolves—well, I think I’ll do all right. Will you take the time off?”

He finally agreed, reluctantly, to take four days off the next week. He insisted he had to be there for closing arguments in the Jenkins case Monday, and Nora had agreed. He walked back to his office.

“You look like a dog dragged you through the back yard,” Abbie said when she went in to consult with him a few moments later.
”Was the Executive’s meeting that bad?”

“No,” Jack said, “It was what came after it. Nora didn’t come out and say it, but she’s disappointed in my performance on the Morgan case. She ordered me to take some time off. So you’re on your own next Tuesday through Friday.”

Abbie shrugged. “After the Jenkins summations, traffic appears pretty light,” she said. “And you have been looking pretty tired lately. Actually, it would be a good idea if you took some time off.”

“What is this, a conspiracy?” Jack said. “Abbie, I don’t need to hear it from you! I’m fine, you know I’m fine, and the only reason I’ve been given this forced vacation is because Jacob P. Morgan, murderer, is free to walk the streets! His high-priced lawyers were able to turn the case, create reasonable doubt, and smear Nora’s reputation in the bargain! It sure helped that Morgan is on the other side of the political fence, and will probably support Judge Wright for DA next year! I practically kicked off his campaign with the way I bungled this damned case!”

Abbie took a step back, shocked at his vehemence. “I don’t want to work for Wright, either,” she said, “but I’m not saying that our case has given him a leg up in the election. It was just a case, Jack, that’s all. Another rich scum gets away with murder because he has the money to buy his way to freedom. It happens all the time.”

“But not on my watch, not if I can help it,” Jack said, calming down a bit. “Abbie, if we want the people to have faith in the criminal justice system, it must dispense justice for all, rich or poor.” He hung his head. “And my actions should not endanger the job of the DA.”

Abbie just looked at him and sighed.

The summation in the Jenkins case went well, Jack thought. As he was packing up his briefcase that night, he told Abbie, “I’ll call you tomorrow sometime. Let me know if the jury is still out.”

“After your summation today, I’m surprised it has taken them this long to convict,” Abbie said.

Jack put the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder. “I think we have a holdout in Juror 6. He looked bored during my summation. But I think the others will persuade him. Oh, hi, Nora.” He looked up as Nora stopped in his doorway on the way to the elevator.

“Don’t worry about the jury, or the case, or any cases for the next six days,” she said. “Relax and enjoy yourself! Where are you going?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jack confessed. “I think I’ll just get on the Yamaha and ride.”

Nora smiled. “Sometimes that’s the best thing to do. Good night.”

Jack woke up at his usual time the next morning, and was half out of bed before he remembered he was not going into work. He frowned and fell back on the mattress. How would he spend the next six days? He’d told Nora he’d take a trip on his bike, but he really wasn’t sure. Perhaps he’d just lie around the apartment and mope.

Yeah, right, McCoy, he thought to himself moments later when he got up and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. He might be depressed, but Jack was never one who could just sit there, doing nothing. After he had drunk his coffee, he changed into his oldest jeans and a polo shirt. As he combed his hair, he looked in the mirror at his darkening chin. No, he wouldn’t shave today. That was the only good thing about not having to go into work.

He took the Yamaha out for a spin, but stayed within the confines of the city, winding up near the reservoir in Central Park in late afternoon. There he parked his bike and sat down on the grass, gazing into the water.

“…relax and float down stream, it will not harm you, it will not harm you…”

There it was again, that old Beatles song, running through his head. He thought back on the night of his graduation, how he and Nora had sat and talked for hours at the coffee shop. Well, he had talked, and she had listened. And then they’d come over here, and sat down on this very spot, and Jack had put his arm around her as he went on about his plans and dreams. He wondered he’d missed something that night, by talking on and on and never listening to what Nora had to say. Well, it was sure different now. Nora was the boss, and when she talked, he listened, albeit reluctantly at times. But she was right. In a way, he still looked on her as that little first year law student with shining eyes, willing to do anything he asked. He had protected her then, warning her of the lecherous professor who lured students to his office for “special tutoring”. Was he still trying to protect her now, he wondered? If so, he was doing a lousy job. He gazed out over the water, his mood becoming as dark as the sky as late afternoon turned to evening.

He drove home and popped some frozen stuff into the microwave. He ate while watching the news, first on CNN and then on the local networks. Nothing new on the Morgan case, thank God. But that reminded him. He picked up the phone.

“Abbie? How did the jury go?” he asked when his assistant answered the phone.

“And hello to you too, Jack,” Ms. Carmichael replied. “They brought in a verdict of guilty this morning. Sentencing is next week. Are you enjoying your time off?”

“Oh sure,” Jack replied sarcastically. “I sat around all day, watching my beard grow.”

“I thought you were going to take a trip on the Yamaha,” Abbie said.

“I tooled around, but stayed in the city,” Jack confessed. “I just don’t feel right leaving Manhattan now.”

“Why? Because of the heat Nora’s been taking on the Morgan trial? That’s off the news ticker now. The latest is a scandal with the Sanitary Department. Garbage for garbage, I think they’re calling it.”

Jack laughed. “I saw the piece on that. Well, maybe tomorrow I’ll take the Yamaha out for an extended run. Everything else ok at the office?”

“Everything is fine,” Abbie said patiently. “Enjoy your time off!”

“I will,” Jack said. “And thanks for letting me know about Jenkins’ conviction.” He shut the phone off and stretched out on the couch.

He didn’t know how long he had been asleep. The television was still on, showing some inane quiz show. He sat up and looked around for the remote. He’d flip back to CNN and then go to bed. But as he went through the channels, he heard Nora’s name. He stopped, and looked at the screen. There was Henry Willis, Morgan’s smug lawyer, talking to Alvin Foster, host of a local public access show called This Is Your City.

“Yes, Al, we do think that the prosecution—or persecution—of Jake Morgan was no more than a political ploy by Nora Lewin to win points with the poorer voters of New York City. Frankly, I think it is sad to see her pitting groups against one another. And it is sad that she unleashed that mad dog of hers, Jack McCoy, on my client. McCoy has shown bias against rich people in the past. She knew if she assigned him to the case, he’d try and take a bite out of Jake’s—er—backside. Only I tamed the beast—well, chained him up, at least.” He turned to face the audience. “Wherever you are, McCoy, heed this: Rich people are like everyone else. They have their quirks, their foibles, and sometimes they’re guilty. But sometimes they’re innocent, too.” He turned back to his host. “We’ve considered filing a suit for false arrest, but Jake doesn’t want any more publicity. He just hopes Nora Lewin devotes her time to prosecuting real criminals.”

“Damn you!” Jack was wide-awake now. He stood up and glared at the screen. “Jake doesn’t want any more publicity. Jake never was called Jake in his life before now, you SOB! Mr. Morgan won’t file a suit for false arrest, because he knows he can’t win it! He went to the hall tree and grabbed his jacket. No, going down to the station and confronting Willis would play right into his hands. He thought about Nora—had she seen this garbage? He picked up the phone again and made the call.

“Nora? Jack. Did you see Willis on This Is Your City?”

“Jack.” Nora’s voice was thick with sleep. “Where are you calling from?”

“My apartment.” Suddenly, Jack realized how late it was. “I’m sorry, I woke you. But you need to know that Willis is still peddling his load of –“

“Jack, didn’t I tell you to go on vacation?” Nora said wearily.

“Yes, but I heard this, and wanted you to know—“

“Jack, did you listen to anything I told you in the office last week? I’m a big girl and I will deal with this situation.”

“Yeah, I know. But I don’t want them to get to you, Nora, because of my screw-up.”

“Jack, you didn’t—“ Nora sighed. “What’s the use? You didn’t listen then, you’re not listening now. Unlike you, Counselor, I have to get up and go to work in the morning. I consider this conversation at an end.”

Jack stared at the phone for a moment before shutting it off. Not listen? He’d listened to Willis, and had heard plenty. If Nora lost the election, it would be his fault. Instead of protecting her, he had thrown her to the wolves.

When he woke up, it was late morning. He got up from the couch, rubbing his aching back. What happened last night? Oh yeah. He’d paced back and forth after his phone call with Nora, too upset to go to bed. Finally, he had flung himself on the couch. That’s why his neck was stiff. He wandered to the kitchen and fixed himself some coffee. Maybe it would help get rid of his headache.

He didn’t even look in the mirror as he washed his face. He had decided to neglect shaving while on vacation, and today he didn’t bother combing his hair. He wandered out of his apartment and started walking.

Four blocks. Then ten. He wasn’t sure where he was going, wasn’t sure of anything at all. And then, suddenly, he was there, back on the campus. Funny, the coffee shop was still there, though surrounded by video rental stores now. Jack went inside.

The place was crowded. Jack ordered a double espresso, black, and sought refuge at a small table in the back. He sipped the coffee and watched the people come and go. Most of them were young students, laughing with one another or talking intensely. One young girl caught his eye. Her hair was long, black, and straight, and she reminded him of his daughter, Elizabeth. She ordered a latte, and then looked around for a place to sit. There wasn’t an empty seat in the house, except at his table. She walked toward him.

“You don’t mind, do you?” She smiled at him as she shifted the books in her arm while holding the latte away from her. “These books weigh a ton, and I need to rest!”

“Sure, sit down,” Jack said. He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously.

She plopped the books on the table and sat down with a sigh. Jack noted the titles: Contract Law, New York Criminal Statutes.

“What year law student are you?” he asked.

“First,” she said. “Though I’m on the advanced track. I have a full schedule of classes, and I work on the Law Review, too.”

“The Law Review. I worked on that when I was a student here, about thirty years ago,” Jack said.

She looked at him. “Oh, the time of Flower Power and Stop the War,” she said. “I bet you’re one of those activists working for Legal Aid. Or maybe you do pro bono work for the Women’s Center.”

“Wrong on both counts,” Jack said. “Actually, I work for the District Attorney’s office. I’m on vacation this week, so I’ve kicked back a bit in my dress.”

.

“It’s the DA’s office that fascinates me most,” she said earnestly. “There’s this one DA that really spelled out the role of the prosecution for me. That it’s the search for truth. He really brought it home to me during this Morgan trial that just ended.”

“Morgan trial?” Jack said softly.

“Yes, it’s been in all the papers. But if you’re with the DA’s office, surely you know about it! It was obvious to me that the prosecutor, Mr. McCoy, was unbiased in his pursuit of justice. I followed the trial closely. McCoy didn’t allow the glitz and glamour of the defense to cover up the basic facts of the case. And he followed up every lead, every possible clue. Sure, the evidence was circumstantial, but there was only one conclusion to draw after it was presented. I still don’t know why the jury didn’t see it.”

“It was the way they dressed Morgan,” Jack said. “It was the way they coached him to look, to act. He wore an ordinary suit, and was humble and polite. You couldn’t see that if you just read the court transcript. But I thank you for the vote of confidence.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You’re Jack McCoy, aren’t you?”

“On one of my bad hair days,” he said.

“Well, Mr. McCoy, I meant everything I said. You are an inspiration to me. I want to work in the DA’s office—well, I think I do. But my boyfriend says contract law would be better.”

“Your boyfriend?” Jack asked. “You have time for a boyfriend?”

“Well, yeah, sort of,” she said, blushing. “Randy is editor of the Review. He calls me his right hand man. I’d do anything for him. He’s going into contract law, and that’s all he talks about. His hopes, his dreams!” She sighed. “I don’t think he ever hears what I have to say. I’d like him to, well, notice me, and not just as a buddy, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do,” Jack said. “It would be nice to have him recognize you as a woman.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said. She sipped her latte. “Maybe I should go into contract law, though right now it bores me. But if it means I can get closer to Randy---“

“No, follow your own inclination,” Jack advised. “You’ll never be happy following this fellow around. If he hasn’t listened to you now, he never will. And you’ll find yourself working in a field that you hate. If criminal law is what fascinates you, stick with criminal law. It’s the only way you’ll be content.”

The girl looked at him thoughtfully. “You may be right. You’ve given me a few things to consider, that’s for sure.”

“And you’ve given me some things to think about too,” Jack said.

Friday night, Nora was getting ready to go home. Most of the brouhaha about the Morgan case had died down, and she had pushed it to the back of her mind. She had been busy following the investigation in the garbage scandal case, which involved kickbacks and a possible mob connection. She had met with the Executives again and assigned the cases. Luckily, murder and kidnapping weren’t involved. If she’d assigned such a case to someone else while Jack was away, he’d never take a vacation again.

There was a knock at her door. “Come in, Stacey,” Nora said as she put away the last of the reports.

“It’s not your secretary, Nora, it’s me,” Jack said, coming in.

“I thought I told you to go on vacation,” Nora said, looking at him. He leaned up against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. He did look rested. His hair was as wild as ever, but he was clean-shaven and his eyes were bright and alert. At least he was dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt.

“My vacation ended at five o’clock this evening,” he said, “and it is now nearly six-fifteen. I followed your order to the letter. I did go on vacation, even though it was more a trip in time than in space. I hung out at the college, walked around the city. I rode out on Long Island and visited some old friends from my early days with the office. And I wanted to complete my trip by visiting with you.”

Nora raised her brows. “Going from the past to the present?”

“No, from the present to the past,” Jack said. “Nora Miller, it’s long after graduation day, but would you like to go to the coffee shop and talk? I’ll promise to listen to what you want to say, for a change.”

Nora looked at him, and realized he was sincere. “Jack McCoy, I’d be delighted,” she said.

They sat by the window, sipping espresso. “I was in here a couple days ago, and met a fan,” Jack said. “After flattering me to death, she made a comment that hit home. She works on the Review, you see. And the editor talks and talks but never listens to her. And it got me thinking…” He looked at Nora sheepishly.

“So that’s what you brought me here for? To hear what I wanted to say to you thirty years ago?” Nora asked, amused.

“Not exactly,” Jack said, sipping his coffee. “Yes, I owe it to you to listen, for both yesterday and today.”

Nora looked at him thoughtfully. “You really mean it, don’t you? I remember thinking that you’d listen tomorrow. Always tomorrow. And we ran out of tomorrows. You graduated, and I was lost. And then I found Dan. So much time has passed since then—a lifetime! You can’t want to know what I thought back then.”

“But I do,” Jack said earnestly, putting his hand on hers. “Because I believe those thoughts from yesterday are connected to our relationship today.”

Nora looked into his eyes. “You’re right, Jack. Well, I guess that tomorrow finally came.” She took a deep breath. “Nora Miller would like you to know that she thinks you are, without a doubt, the most handsome man she ever met. She would have told you that wherever you led, she would follow. But Nora Miller met Dan Lewin, and her thoughts changed. Maybe she grew up.” She paused, looking at Jack’s face. His expression changed from surprise, to pleasure, to sadness as she spoke.

“I was a self-centered SOB,” he said softly, drawing his hand away. “Maybe if I had listened back then, things would have turned out differently in my life.”

“But Jack, I’m not done,” Nora said. She placed her hand on his, and he looked at her.

“Nora Lewin would like you to know that she still thinks you’re the most handsome man she knows. More handsome, in fact, than you were thirty years ago.” She smiled. “I think that self-centered SOB grew up, too. But he still has those sterling qualities I’ve always admired— devotion to the law and devotion to truth. His main flaw is that he’s a little too hard on himself at times. And he’s still the man I care for deeply.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Jack looked at her, astonished. “I never knew, I never knew,” he said, half to himself. “Nora, how could I have been so blind? I’ve always looked on you as one of my oldest—and dearest—friends. But by the time I realized it, you were married to Dan, and there was no hope.”

“But there’s hope now, Jack,” Nora said.

“Hope for what?” Jack cried. “A hope that we can make this more than just a friendship? Please, Ms. Lewin, remember the anti-nepotism rules of your office. Remember the wolves circling, waiting for you to make another slip so that they can take you down come election time.”

“Remember I love you,” Nora said, looking into his eyes. “That’s the important thing. Do you love me, Jack?”

Thoughts of what might have been flooded Jack’s mind, and he fought back tears as he answered, “Yes, Nora, I love you. I always have.”

“Then we won’t worry about tomorrow,” Nora said, squeezing his hand. “If we love each other, that’s all that matters. We can face the world, if we face it together, and we can win.” She looked into his eyes, her glance both a challenge and a promise.

Jack stood up, and she did too. Slowly, his arms encircled her, and slowly his lips met hers. Nora was right; together they could face anything. And what of tomorrow? Tomorrow never knows.

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