"TUROW, SCOTT - THE BURDEN OF PROOF" - читать интересную книгу автора (Turrow Scott)

"How could you have changed diapers?" asked Peter, awakened somewhat by
the opportunity to challenge his father. "You were never here. I
remember I couldn't figure out what a trial was. I thought it was like
a place you went. Another city."

Marta called out for John: "Are you going to change the baby's diapers?"

John, carrying a thirty-cup percolator, entered the sun room for a
moment. He looked as bad as everyone else, baffled and grieved. He
shrugged gently in response to Marta's question. John was a taciturn
fellow. He had few opinions that he was willing to express.

In another room the telephone rang. It had been pealing incessantly for
two days now. Stern seldom spoke. The children answered, responding
tersely with the time and place of the funeral, promising to share the
condolences with their father. Most of these conversations seemed to
end the same way, with a labored pause before the instrument was
cradled. 'Yes, it's true,' one of them would quickly answer. 'We have
no idea why."

Silvia emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron,
beckoning to Stern. This call, apparently, he could not avoid. In
passing, he touched his sister's hand. A woman with a staff of three at
home, Silvia had been here toiling tirelessly for three days, running,
organizing, taking care.

"Ah, Sandy. What a sad occasion. My deepest sympathy."

Stern had gone up to their bedroom, still dark and shuttered, to take
the phone. He recognized the voice of Cal Hopkinson. Cal was a lawyer.
When Sandy's beloved friend Harry Fagel had died two years ago, Cal,
Harry's partner, had become the Sterns' personal lawyer. He updated
their wills and each year filed tax returns for the trusts left for
Clara. Cal was a practical fellow, amiable if not particularly
appealing, and he came rather quickly to the point. Since Marta was in
town, he wondered if Stern might want to come down with the children in
the next few days to discuss Clara's will.

"Is that necessary, Cal?"

Cal pondered in silence. Perhaps he was somewhat offended.

He was one of those attorneys who lived for details, mowing them down
each day in the belief that if they went untended they would overgrow
the world.

"It's not necessary, Sandy, but it sometimes helps to prevent questions
later. Clara left a large estate, .you know."