CHAPTER 5 — THE WOMAN AT TABLE TWELVE
The next witness did not come from the stage.
She came from Table Twelve.
Her name was Alma Price, and seven years earlier she had been a banquet server with a bad knee and two sons in community college.
I recognized her only after she removed the gold scarf tied around her hair.
She had served tea to Michael the night before his stroke. I remembered because he thanked her by name, and she looked surprised enough that he apologized for surprising her.
Alma stood in the ballroom while Adrian’s attorneys tried to herd donors away from the scandal.
“Mrs. Kincaid,” she said.
The room turned.
Alma held a service tray against her chest like a shield.
“I saw Dr. Reed go into Suite 904 before Mr. Kincaid collapsed.”
Dr. Reed said, “That is false.”
Alma did not look at him.
That was smart.
She looked at Dana Briggs.
“I was delivering ginger tea. Mr. Kincaid always ordered it before speeches because champagne upset his stomach. Dr. Reed was already in the room with Mr. Adrian. Mr. Kincaid was angry. He told them, ‘Not Vivian.’ I heard that clear.”
My knees nearly failed.
Not Vivian.
Michael had objected.
Out loud.
Adrian laughed coldly.
“Seven years later, after hearing a recording, she remembers a convenient line?”
Alma’s face flushed.
I thought she might sit down.
Instead, she lifted her chin.
“I remembered it every night I watched you get richer.”
The ballroom went quiet.
“I didn’t speak because my son’s scholarship came through the Kincaid board, and Dr. Reed’s wife signed the approval. Then my younger son got hired at the Langford kitchen. I told myself Mrs. Kincaid had lawyers. I told myself rich people had ways to fix rich problems.”
She looked at me then.
“I was wrong.”
Apologies are strange things.
Some arrive too late to fix what they name.
But they still put weight on the correct side of the scale.
Dana took Alma’s statement.
Then asked one question.
“Why speak tonight?”
Alma pointed toward Irene.
“Because she walked in with a cane and played a dead man’s night for a room full of cowards. I decided I could stand up too.”
Irene’s eyes filled.
Mine did too.
Adrian watched both women and understood something too late.
May you like
He had frightened employees, controlled doctors, shaped board votes, and managed newspapers.
He had forgotten memory gathers in service corridors.
