looking at Victor for confirmation. If Victor moved at all, Donna was unaware of it.
“And Mrs. Cressy?”
“I knew her less well,” he stated, still looking at Victor. Less well, Donna thought, he didn’t know me at all. We were acquainted. At various social functions, we maybe said hello, goodbye, yes, I’ll have another drink. Less well! The presumption inherent in those words! You weren’t even present at our wedding, her eyes screamed at him, trying to force his gaze in her direction. And why weren’t you there? Ask him that, Mr. Gerber, Florida’s finest, ask Mr. Danny Vogel why he wasn’t at his good friend’s wedding even though the woman his good friend married, thiswoman he knows “less well,” had asked that he be included.
“What is your impression of Victor Cressy?” Ed Gerber asked.
“In what respect?” the witness asked. Donna found herself smiling in spite of herself. Not an easy question to answer, Mr. Gerber, she thought, understanding Danny Vogel’s need for a qualification.
“In general,” the lawyer elaborated. “As a man, a friend, a coworker.”
Donna could see Danny Vogel making an invisible list inside his head. He was a man obviously well used to listening and carrying out his clients’ instructions. “As a man,” he began somewhat slowly, “Victor Cressy is strong, forceful, even dynamic. He’s intelligent, grasps things easily, knows all the details. He’s demanding, I would say, but no more so of anyone else than he is of himself. To me, he has always come across as fair, disciplined and in control.” He stopped. Donna helped him draw the imaginary line through Victor Cressy, man in control. “As a friend, he’s loyal, honest—if he has a beef with you, believe me, you know it. He tells you exactly what he thinks, which obviously leads to some ups and downs.” Obviously, Donna concurred, but does Victor ever really tell you exactly what he thinks, or do you just think he does? “He’s very private, isn’t usually the type to confide his problems to anyone, so when he does, you know they’re pretty serious. But he’s always there to help you with any problems you might be having.” Cross a line through Good-Old-Always-There Victor Cressy, friend. “As a coworker, no question about it, he’s the best insurance salesman in the office. He works hard, he’s a real perfectionist, and,” Danny Vogel lookedaround the courtroom as if he expected a suitable adjective to come forward and loudly proclaim itself, “he’s just the best.” On that suitable superlative, cross out Victor Cressy, coworker. Well done, Mr. Vogel.
You weren’t at the wedding because Victor Cressy still hadn’t gotten around to forgiving you, valued coworker, for allegedly interfering with one of his prospective clients, a slight you weren’t even aware you’d committed and for which you spent almost a year apologizing before Victor, intelligent, fair man that he is, felt you had been punished enough, and deigned to speak to you again. You have ever after felt you were entirely in the wrong and that Victor was not only right in his initial assertions but in his subsequent treatment of you. Your “good friend” is a master manipulator. His genius lies in not only convincing others that he is right all the time, but in having long ago convinced himself, thereby giving credence to even the most ludicrous of his actions. He’s the one who’s wrong, and yet everyone else feels guilty! Donna looked from the witness over to Victor Cressy. Such talent had to be a gift from God.
“And your impressions of Mrs. Cressy?”
“The first few times I met her, I was very impressed,” he allowed. “She was lovely, seemed to have a nice sense of humor …”
Why is he talking about me in the past tense? Donna wondered. Had she passed away suddenly? Was her hell to be this courtroom and not a sink full of dirty dishes, after all? Listening to an endless litany of witnesses denounce her every
“And Mrs. Cressy?”
“I knew her less well,” he stated, still looking at Victor. Less well, Donna thought, he didn’t know me at all. We were acquainted. At various social functions, we maybe said hello, goodbye, yes, I’ll have another drink. Less well! The presumption inherent in those words! You weren’t even present at our wedding, her eyes screamed at him, trying to force his gaze in her direction. And why weren’t you there? Ask him that, Mr. Gerber, Florida’s finest, ask Mr. Danny Vogel why he wasn’t at his good friend’s wedding even though the woman his good friend married, thiswoman he knows “less well,” had asked that he be included.
“What is your impression of Victor Cressy?” Ed Gerber asked.
“In what respect?” the witness asked. Donna found herself smiling in spite of herself. Not an easy question to answer, Mr. Gerber, she thought, understanding Danny Vogel’s need for a qualification.
“In general,” the lawyer elaborated. “As a man, a friend, a coworker.”
Donna could see Danny Vogel making an invisible list inside his head. He was a man obviously well used to listening and carrying out his clients’ instructions. “As a man,” he began somewhat slowly, “Victor Cressy is strong, forceful, even dynamic. He’s intelligent, grasps things easily, knows all the details. He’s demanding, I would say, but no more so of anyone else than he is of himself. To me, he has always come across as fair, disciplined and in control.” He stopped. Donna helped him draw the imaginary line through Victor Cressy, man in control. “As a friend, he’s loyal, honest—if he has a beef with you, believe me, you know it. He tells you exactly what he thinks, which obviously leads to some ups and downs.” Obviously, Donna concurred, but does Victor ever really tell you exactly what he thinks, or do you just think he does? “He’s very private, isn’t usually the type to confide his problems to anyone, so when he does, you know they’re pretty serious. But he’s always there to help you with any problems you might be having.” Cross a line through Good-Old-Always-There Victor Cressy, friend. “As a coworker, no question about it, he’s the best insurance salesman in the office. He works hard, he’s a real perfectionist, and,” Danny Vogel lookedaround the courtroom as if he expected a suitable adjective to come forward and loudly proclaim itself, “he’s just the best.” On that suitable superlative, cross out Victor Cressy, coworker. Well done, Mr. Vogel.
You weren’t at the wedding because Victor Cressy still hadn’t gotten around to forgiving you, valued coworker, for allegedly interfering with one of his prospective clients, a slight you weren’t even aware you’d committed and for which you spent almost a year apologizing before Victor, intelligent, fair man that he is, felt you had been punished enough, and deigned to speak to you again. You have ever after felt you were entirely in the wrong and that Victor was not only right in his initial assertions but in his subsequent treatment of you. Your “good friend” is a master manipulator. His genius lies in not only convincing others that he is right all the time, but in having long ago convinced himself, thereby giving credence to even the most ludicrous of his actions. He’s the one who’s wrong, and yet everyone else feels guilty! Donna looked from the witness over to Victor Cressy. Such talent had to be a gift from God.
“And your impressions of Mrs. Cressy?”
“The first few times I met her, I was very impressed,” he allowed. “She was lovely, seemed to have a nice sense of humor …”
Why is he talking about me in the past tense? Donna wondered. Had she passed away suddenly? Was her hell to be this courtroom and not a sink full of dirty dishes, after all? Listening to an endless litany of witnesses denounce her every
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