Mikita smiled at him and he returned her’s with one of his own, then she left the room. As their distance grew, his anger towards his daughter gained in momentum. Because of Fawn, she had fucked up his entire day.
Morpheus maintained a wide stance, directing his statement at Winston.
He said...
"It sounds to me like the district attorney has trashed the charges--and that's exactly what I wanted to happen. But I guess there must be more to this because you're standing in my house. So--what's the problem Winston?"
Winston Dubois was a brilliant man and he knew a trap when he saw one. And this most definitely was a trap. The worst kind of trap. A Morpheus Gustafson trap. The wise attorney employed one of his courtroom tactics. He flipped the question back to his employer.
"What's the problem indeed. You see sir, as I've said; I did my job, but your daughter doesn't seem to agree."
"Spit it out man"
Morpheus had had enough of this game and when his attorney smiled, he clearly heard 'gotcha' wailing in his head, because the focus was no longer aimed at Winston. Now, he would be learning something about Fawn, and that she was the problem, and not his attorney.
Winston said...
"There was a restraining order...and your daughter refuses to sign off on the document. The D.A. bent over backwards completely ignoring the police report and the assault charges--mainly because Fawn's offenses towards the police officers occurred when she turned on them and resisted their arrest. I spoke with the security guards at the art gallery; gave each of them their asking price and they signed documents affectively swearing never to seek legal or monetary actions for her assaults on them. As for the owner of the art gallery, we've agreed to allow the insurance company to name their price, after the damages have been assessed. However; until that occurs, a reasonable amount was advanced to begin repairs in the gallery. However, as for Judd Marko--the D.A. spoke with him--and he isn't budging. He won't change his mind and he won't recant his statements. He insisted that the restraining order be put in place. And in plain English sir, that leaves your daughter with no other options. She has no other choice in this matter. She must acknowledge the order."
"I don't understand. Why is it so important that she sign the damn thing? I thought that she just has to know that an order of protection exist."
"Well--yes, in general, that is correct. However, Morpheus...I didn't explain the events that preceded her run-in with the officers. Your daughter practically demolished every piece of artwork at Claudette Tautou Gallery. She did this in front of a crowd of people, and it took hours to confiscate camera’s and every other recording device. Then there was the damage to consider--as well as the other artist. I am no expert sir, but when I totaled the cost in my head, the figure is well over eight million dollars in damages. More to the point--she destroyed every sculpture created by Judd Marko. And as I said sir--you needn’t worry on that account because I've taken care of that. However--when I explained to the D.A. that I have assured all parties involved that they will be reimbursed for their losses--this explanation wasn't enough to satisfy the D.A.. You see--too many people were involved--and well, we are coming up on an election year. In other words, her manipulation stops with the arresting officers. She won’t consider strong-arming Judd to back off and since the restraining order isn't going away, the D.A. wants certain assurances."
Morpheus thought about his war-chest, filled with secrets and lies. He briefly considered Amanda Levi, and the day she’d been sworn in as the District Attorney. What did he have on her--and was he prepared to use it.
Morpheus narrowed his eyes when he said...
"Okay...it sounds to me like Amanda is covering her ass. Now--what’s our next move."
Winston said...
"I'm sorry sir...but--nothing comes next; and the D.A. made that clear to me. This is one stipulation that I cannot make go away. And sir, well...Fawn--she refuses to bow to this particular will of justice."
“Is that what you call justice? I’d call it blackmail”
Morpheus closed his eyes because he understood the ramifications of print and signatures. Signed documents had a life of their own, and no one knew better than him. He could visualize the D.A. salivating, knowing that she has proof locked away in her desk, stating that Morpheus Gustafson’s daughter had destroyed artwork and she stalked a man, who had no other choice except to take out a restraining order on her.
Morpheus slammed his fist on his desk, then he bellowed...
“What assurances do I have that this restraining order won’t be made public? Hell...for all I know, if the press get their hands on that--then the whole story comes out, defeating the purpose of the millions I’ve paid to cover it up.”
“Sir--the D.A. says, if Fawn signs the document, the official paperwork for the order will be erased. In other words, Judd will live his life, believing that Fawn stayed away because of a restraining order that doesn’t actually exist. That is the reason the D.A. wants the letter signed--just in case...”
Winston didn’t have to finish his sentence. Amanda wanted it just in case Fawn slipped; and there were no shortage of ways to make good use of damning evidence. Morpheus didn’t want to ponder on this problem any longer.
He stared at his daughter, then he spoke loud enough to wake the dead.
"Fawn!!! Sign the gotdamn thing. Sign it now--then get the hell out of my sight."
Fawn shook, but she wouldn’t cower. She wasn’t a fool and she knew to fear her father, but her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her fear to show. She watched Winston as he approached her. She hadn’t even seen the documents on a desk nearby where he’d been standing. He lifted the documents, then he approached her, handing her the papers on a clipboard along with a pen. She took it, and while she signed next to yellow arrowed stickies, pointing at the lines where her signature was to be penned, she heard her father when he said...
“I will say this once...and I will not repeat myself. Take this as your final warning. Stay the hell away from Judd Marko. Stay away from that man, and stay away from any art gallery that might be displaying his work. Today is the last day that I want to hear any mention of this man. Do not disappoint me Fawn-because if you do, you will not like the consequences.”
Morpheus watched his attorney gathering the papers after Fawn had signed the last one. Winston nodded, and then he silently left the room. He didn’t look back because he was grateful for this outcome. Fawn stared at a wall of books, refusing to face her father. And when he left the room, she would swear on a stack of bibles that his anger leapt across the divide, shaming, then branding her with his mandate.
**********
Morpheus stepped off his chopper, exchanging one air transport for another. One of his private aircraft sat on the tarmac, fueled with its engine humming. In his head, there was a clashing struggle, and each worry vied for his attention. All around him, there was motion, yet these people went completely unnoticed. His hand picked crew were all busy preparing for the flight. Morpheus boarded the plane, and he didn’t even hear their greetings. He’d moved passed them, then took his usual window seat. He heard his assistant giving last minute instructions, telling the attendant that he’d not eaten any lunch and to be sure to encourage this. Morpheus didn’t give a damn about his stomach because for months, he’d dreaded this day. He asked himself, if a tree falls in the woods, does it create a sound? When asked this question, his answer would always be yes, because he envisioned being their to witness the event. But this thought twister wouldn’t help him when it came to his problems. For his worries, he considered the butterfly-effect. A phenomenon whereby one seemingly inconsequential change creates a larger effect on the entire waterworks. In his case, there had been two seemingly inconsequential events. Tollin Pettier and Andrew Wilcox. Tollin had been Eliza’s screw-up; but he’d decided to take the blame for Andrew Wilcox. He wouldn’t relive Eliza’s nightmare because at the time, she had not known the importance of her role. She had not known--and she should have--so he blamed himself for that. When he considered Andrew; Morpheus recalled the farce of a trial in the that one shotgun town that he lived in. He should have seen the signs. Andrew had been beyond himself, consumed by his grief; but he’d persuaded Morpheus, by saying that he would survive. Morpheus had wanted to believe him--so he did. Weeks had passed, and he’d believed him but Morpheus had been wrong to do so. Believing Andrew had been a bad call on his part because Andrew had sought to level the scales of justice. The governor had taken matters into his own hands. Morpheus still didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d gotten the name of Joplin Paddox, and he’d made one simple request.