Chapter Twenty-four
Judy tried to pick up the pace after the preliminaries, like name, address, and employment history, even though she already had some of the information from the personnel file. She was getting a feel for Devi Govinda, a somber Indian-American man in his mid-forties, with a stilted air and round, excessively vigilant eyes behind beaded, gold-rimmed glasses. His glossy jet-black hair was neatly trimmed, albeit thinning, and he was slightly overweight, so that his neck spilled over the stiffness of the light blue collar, which he had on with a worn patterned tie and a nondescript dark suit.
“Mr. Govinda, you work at the Narberth branch of PennBank, is that correct?” Judy continued, trying to find a rhythm to her questions. She’d started the way she usually did, with softballs, so she could get a lot of yesses in response and build a nice momentum. It wasn’t working so far because she couldn’t keep her eyes from straying to her phone or her thoughts from Aunt Barb, lying on the operating table only ten blocks away.
“Yes.”
“And what do you do at the branch?”
“Do you mean what is my job?”
“Yes.” Judy could see that Govinda had been well-coached and also that the cheese Danish wasn’t working its carbohydrate magic. His lawyer, Richard Kelin, was equally silent, a short, squat lawyer from Prendergast Manning, a notoriously jerky firm. He had on a dark suit, an Hermès tie with little orange H’s, and horn-rimmed glasses. His face was pudgy, and his gray-eyed gaze fixed outside the window, even though the view was only of the air-conditioning ducts and fans atop the building next door.
“I am a financial consultant at the branch.”
“Tell me what that means.”
“I’m not sure of your question.” Govinda pursed fleshy lips. “I don’t understand.”
“Sorry, perhaps I could be more clear.” Judy couldn’t find her groove. “What are your job duties as a financial consultant?”
“I sell various banking products to customers who are interested in instruments or potential investments over $100,000.”
“How long have you worked in the branch, in that capacity?”
“Five years.”
“And Linda Adler, the plaintiff, was a financial sales consultant in the Narberth branch, for the past three years. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s talk for a moment about the corporate structure at PennBank, just so I’m clear. The Narberth branch is one of fifteen branch banks in the Philadelphia area. Is that correct?”
“Yes, though we call it the Philadelphia Metro Region.”
“Thank you.” Judy made a mental note that Govinda was precise. She’d have to step up her game. The clock on the credenza said it was 9:25, so they were into her aunt’s operation. “And there are no other financial sales consultants in the branch. Is that also correct?”
“Yes.”
“How many licensed financial sales consultants are in the Philadelphia Metro Region?”
“Four others, five total.”
“How many are women and how many men?”
“Four men, one woman.”
“And what are their names?” Judy looked over as Allegra glanced up from her legal pad, then returned to her note-taking. It reminded her of the days when she’d sit next to Mary and they’d write each other notes on their pads. She wondered if that would ever happen again, but the answer was staring her in the face from the far wall of the conference room, where some boxes from the damages trials had been stacked, a cardboard wall of associatehood.
“Stan Barstal, Jerry Moore, and John Morales.”
Judy checked the notes in the file in front of her, but they were on a different subject. “Uh, let me see, the regional manager who oversees fifteen branches in the Philadelphia Metro Region is Mr. Guy Morrell. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Where is his office?”
“Center City.”
Judy’s eyes strayed to her phone, wishing her mother could text, at least. She didn’t take notes, so she could help Govinda forget it was a legal proceeding, but she was having a harder time than usual listening. “Mr. Govinda, let’s shift gears. As a financial sales consultant, what were Ms. Adler’s job responsibilities?”
Kelin interrupted, “If you know.”
Govinda nodded. “Linda was supposed to sell investment and traditional banking products to our customers, including checking accounts, savings accounts, credit cards, and loans.”
Judy made a mental note that he used her client’s first name. “Are you aware that as a financial sales consultant, Ms. Adler had a quota of minimum monthly production goals to meet?”
“Yes.”
“Her monthly investment production goal was $1,000 and her minimum revenue requirements were sixty thousand minimum revenue credits. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And she received incentive pay as well, did she not, for meeting those quotas?”
“Yes.”
Kelin sighed, still gazing out the window. “I’m not bothering to object, but is this line of questioning necessary, Judy? You can confirm it from her personnel file.”
Judy knew it wasn’t objectionable. “I’m trying to understand how much about Ms. Adler’s performance Mr. Govinda knows, and the only way to do that is to ask him.” Judy turned to Govinda. “To the best of your knowledge, did Ms. Adler meet those minimums every month of this year?”
“Yes.”
“How about the two previous years she’s been employed by Penn Bank?”
“Yes.”
“To whom does Ms. Adler report?”
“To the regional manager, Mr. Morrell.”
“To whom do you report?”
“I also report to Mr. Morrell.”
“How is it that you have information regarding whether she meets her minimum revenue goals or not?”
“She told me, uh, us, at lunch.”
“And was it part of Linda Adler’s job to refer clients to you?”
“Yes. She wasn’t licensed to sell investments over $100,000 and she referred those clients to me.”
“How many such clients has she referred to you this year, to date?”
“Sixteen.”
“How many of those resulted in closed sales?”
“Sixteen.”
“And the year before that?”
“Fifteen.”
“How many of those resulted in closed sales?”
“Fourteen.”
Judy skipped ahead, growing impatient and edgy. “Mr. Govinda, does the fact that you were able to close the sales reflect on Ms. Adler in any way?”
“Yes. She cultivated high-quality targets.”
“Do you know how she did that?”
“Yes, through cold calls and a network in the community.”
“What was Ms. Adler’s network, to which you just referred?”
“She belongs to Curves and she’s in a few book clubs. One of our customers came from her book club and another from church. They were high-net-worth individuals and I was able to close the sale with them.”
“Do the four other financial sales consultants in the Philadelphia Metro Region refer clients to you?”
“Yes.”
“Did any of them send you as many referrals as Ms. Adler did?”
“No.”
Judy knew she should ask for the details to lay her brick foundation, but she couldn’t fight her anger at him, at the injustice to Linda Adler, at Bennie, at the hidden money, and even at breast cancer. “Do you believe that Ms. Adler deserved the promotion to branch manager?”
“Objection!” Kelin swiveled his neat head around, with a new frown. “It’s irrelevant whether or not the witness believed Ms. Adler was entitled to the promotion.”
Judy felt herself losing her temper. “No it isn’t, and we both know that relevance isn’t a proper objection at deposition. Mr. Govinda, you may answer the question.”
Kelin snorted. “Don’t answer, Devi. I’m instructing you not to answer.”
Judy reached into the middle of the table and snatched the telephone receiver from its cradle. “Rick, shall I call the judge right now and get a ruling? You tell me.”
“Fine, that won’t be necessary.” Kelin rolled his eyes. “Mr. Govinda, you may answer the question. I’ll note for the record that this is Mr. Govinda’s opinion only.”
Judy faced Govinda, trying to get in control. “Mr. Govinda, did you think Ms. Adler deserved that promotion?”
“It’s not for me to say,” Govinda answered, his expression impassive.
“It is now,” Judy shot back, and Allegra looked over, her fair skin flushing. “Mr. Govinda, I’m asking you a question, and you are compelled to answer. In your opinion, didn’t Ms. Adler deserve that promotion?”
“Again, I cannot say. I’m not her superior. I don’t have the complete facts.”
“But you know that she referred you more customers than any of the other financial sales consultants, and that she made her quota for all three years.” Judy leaned forward, urgent. “What other facts do you need, Mr. Govinda?”
Kelin shook his head. “Objection, arguing with the witness.”
Govinda’s head swiveled to Judy. “I would need to know more facts concerning the employee who received the promotion. He was a new hire from PNC, and we didn’t know him.”
Judy threw up her hands. “It’s not a relative question. I’m not asking you to make a comparison. I’m asking you, simply upon the facts you have, did Ms. Adler deserve that promotion?”
Kelin interjected, “Objection, calls for speculation.”
Govinda blinked. “I cannot speculate.”
Judy cut to the chase. “Mr. Govinda, isn’t it true that Mr. Morrell told you that there was ‘no room for women at the top of PennBank’?”
“No.”
Judy wasn’t about to stop. “Mr. Govinda, I remind you that you’re under oath here, and I’m going to ask you again, isn’t it true that Mr. Morrell said that to you?”
Kelin scowled. “Objection, asked and answered!”
“Rick, I’m allowed to press him. Mr. Govinda, answer the question.”
“No, that’s not true,” Govinda answered, but he averted his eyes.
Judy tried a lateral attack. “Mr. Govinda, did Mr. Morrell hire you?”
“Yes.”
“Does he have the power to fire you?”
“Yes.”
“Does Mr. Morrell review your performance?”
“Yes.”
“Does he decide whether you receive raises or incentive pay?”
“Yes.”
“Have you received incentive pay?”
“Yes,” Govinda answered, then he volunteered, “every quarter since I’ve been at PennBank.”
“How about raises?”
“Yes, same thing.”
“Mr. Govinda, when I get you on the stand at trial, there will be a judge and a jury. Are you going to lie to them? Because we both know that Mr. Morrell said to you there was ‘no room for women—’”
“Objection, this is harassment!”
“No, this is litigation, and Mr. Govinda better get used to it.” Judy faced Govinda, her emotions bubbling over. “You’re lying through your teeth. You won’t get away with it, not in court, and neither will Morrell—”
“—Judy, objection! This is argumentative and—”
“—and I want you to worry about it every night until trial, I want you to lose sleep over it.” Judy felt her temper give way, which she’d never done in a deposition in her life. “I want you to tell Morrell you can’t keep his secret, that you won’t perjure yourself to cover his ass or to keep your job—”
“—improper! You have no right to speak to my client this way—”
“—and I am going to hammer you both until I find out the truth and nobody is going to believe you after I get through with you—”
“We’re leaving!” Kelin jumped to his wingtips, yanking Govinda out of his seat by his jacket sleeve. “This deposition is over!”
“—and anybody can see that you’re protecting your boss, and they’re going to know you’re covering up the truth!” Judy jumped up, as Govinda hustled to the door behind Kelin. “You better tell Morrell, too! You’re not going to get away with this! I’m coming for you!”
Kelin and Govinda left the conference room, the door slammed closed behind them, and the air went abruptly still.
“Wow, Judy!” Allegra shot up like a rocket, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “That wasn’t boring at all!”
The court reporter looked up, her hooded eyes confused and fingers poised over the stenography machine. “Counsel, I’m not sure I understood that last exchange.”
Me neither, Judy thought, but didn’t say. She picked up her laptop, case files, and papers. She was trying to figure out what just happened, but Allegra was bouncing around the conference room like an overexcited puppy.
“Judy, that was amazing!” Allegra’s eyes went wide behind her glasses. “I totally want to be a lawyer when I grow up! It’s so exciting!”
“It’s not always that exciting,” Judy said, dismayed. Aunt Barb’s operation, Iris’s death, the secret cash, the damages cases, it had all gotten to her. She checked her phone, but her mother still hadn’t called. She clutched her stuff to her chest and went to the door, with Allegra bopping along behind her.
“That was the coolest thing ever! You went right at them! They ran away!”
“But, listen, that’s not the best thing.” Judy held the door for Allegra, only to see Bennie standing in the hallway, holding a boxy trial bag and talking to Mary. Judy touched Allegra’s arm. “Allegra, don’t tell them about—”
“Guys!” Allegra called out, and before Judy could finish her sentence, the intern was off and running. “Guess what Judy just did!”