Deeper Water (20 page)

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Authors: Robert Whitlow

BOOK: Deeper Water
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The smiles were replaced by a few puzzled expressions.

"I look forward to working with as many of you as possible. I want to learn, and I'm willing to work hard." I paused and glanced at Zach. "There are many unusual facts about my life, but one that I share with Zach Mays is a homeschool education. Thank you."

I sat down. No one clapped or said anything. Vince was next. He was from Charleston and mentioned his family's longtime personal connection to Mr. Appleby as the reason for his interest in working for the firm. As an interesting fact, he described his Eagle Scout service project, in which he created a training program to teach and implement household safety in lower-income areas and a database of needy families to receive help. The program was adopted in Charleston County as part of a United Way initiative. There was polite applause when he finished.

Julie stood up. "I'm here because Savannah has always been my favorite city on the coast." She hesitated and then spoke with feeling. "I wouldn't trade two Charlestons and three Wilmingtons for one Savannah."

Several lawyers pounded the table in agreement.

"I'm as excited about being here as I was spending two months last summer sailing across the Caribbean with my father. We visited over a dozen ports including the Caymans and the Virgin Islands. I didn't think about law for eight weeks and spent most of my time working on my tan."

"You can come on my boat!" one of the younger lawyers called out.

"Mine's newer and bigger!" another lawyer countered.

"And you're married," Mr. Carpenter said, pointing to the second lawyer. "Thank you, clerks. Enjoy lunch."

I looked across the table at Zach. He avoided my eyes.

"What's this about a homeschool?" Mr. Appleby asked the young associate. "You never mentioned that before."

"Who taught it? Your mother?" Conrad added.

Zach looked at Conrad with a steely expression. "Yes. All the way through high school. She was an excellent teacher."

Having caused this problem, I wasn't going to abandon Zach and sit on the sidelines.

"The tutorial system was the preferred method for educating European royalty for hundreds of years," I said. "And several modern studies have proven it works well today, even if the parents aren't college educated."

Mr. Appleby spoke. "My brother and I had a private tutor when our family lived in Nigeria. My mother taught grammar and literature; the tutor handled math and science. I've always thought those were the best years of my education. I was way ahead of my peers when we moved back to Baltimore."

I saw Conrad turn in his chair and begin talking to the person next to him.

"Tell me more about your educational background," Mr. Appleby said to me.

I started to give a two-sentence answer, then remembered Zach's advice about taking the opportunity to talk when asked a question by one of the partners.

"I'd be glad to."

It was an easy subject. I'd defended homeschooling against all comers for years. Mr. Appleby asked several insightful questions, and I talked steadily through the salad course up to arrival of our entree, a seafood dish as rich as anything I'd ever eaten. Once, I looked at Zach and silently offered to pass the ball to him, but he gave a slight shake of his head. This was my chance to impress Mr. Appleby. So, I continued talking.

"And do you believe this type of education makes you a better law student?" Mr. Appleby asked.

"Yes sir. I didn't wait until law school to learn how to analyze an issue and evaluate possible solutions."

Mr. Appleby turned his attention to Zach, and they began to discuss a case involving a Norwegian shipping company. I couldn't follow the unfamiliar admiralty terms. Learning the law of Georgia was challenging enough; the prospect of applying U.S., Norwegian, and international law to a legal problem was overwhelming. As a waiter took away our plates, Mr. Appleby looked at his watch.

"It will be too late to call Oslo when we get back to the office," he said. "Send Bergen an e-mail outlining our position so he can read it in the morning. If he wants to continue to do business with our client in the port of Savannah, there will have to be concessions on the container surcharge and agreement on the arbitration language."

Dessert was a custard dish that dissolved on my tongue and sent shivers down my spine. I wanted to ask for the recipe so I could make it for my family, but I didn't want to draw attention to myself. Julie didn't seem to have that problem. I could hear her laughing loudly at the other end of the table.

Mr. Carpenter stood and tapped his glass again. The room became quiet.

"I hope you've enjoyed this luncheon. Every time we do this, it makes me wish we spent more time together as a firm."

I heard Conrad clear his throat. Mr. Carpenter continued.

"We don't have any prizes to give away, but there is a drawing of sorts for our summer clerks."

I sat up straighter.

"Judge Cannon has agreed to allow our summer clerks to handle minor misdemeanor cases under appropriate supervision. These are pro bono matters. The clerks won't be providing as important a contribution to the community as Vince did with his Eagle Scout project, but every citizen of the land deserves legal representation. Ms. Taylor picked up an order authorizing this work at the courthouse this morning. The judge is authorizing the firm to delegate the cases; however, I think it would be appropriate for the clerks to have a hand in the selection process."

He paused. I suspected his last comment was meant to be a play on words, but no one laughed. He held up three folders.

"Each of these folders contains a brief description of a case and an order from Judge Cannon specially authorizing you to make an appearance on behalf of the defendant."

One of the younger lawyers called out, "When I was a summer clerk I had to represent a man caught playing video poker!"

Mr. Carpenter spoke. "And as I recall you gambled with his future, and he spent ninety days in jail."

"Bob lost a hundred dollars playing the machines while investigating that case," another lawyer said.

"If our clerks will step forward," Mr. Carpenter said, "I'll let them choose their fate."

Julie stood beside Mr. Carpenter. Vince and I joined her. Mr. Carpenter held out the three folders.

"Ms. Feldman," he said.

Julie chose the one in the middle and opened it.

"State v. Ferguson," she said. "I think he's charged with impersonating a public official-a water-meter reader."

"Say that fast three times in front of the judge," one of the lawyers said.

"Why would someone do that?" Julie asked Mr. Carpenter.

"Allegedly," Mr. Carpenter corrected. "Meet with your client and investigate the facts; then we'll talk about a theory of the case." The sen for partner pointed to the lawyer named Ned. "Mr. Danforth, I want you to supervise Ms. Feldman's efforts on behalf of the defendant."

"Can we do it on my boat?" the lawyer asked.

"Not without appropriate adult supervision," another lawyer responded.

The flirting banter in the room made me uncomfortable. I glanced at Julie, who didn't seem upset by the innuendos. Mr. Carpenter turned to Vince.

"Your turn."

Vince selected the file on the left and opened it.

"State v. Brown," he said. "Operation of a motor vehicle at excessive speed while racing and improper muffler."

"A racer!" one of the lawyers called out. "Where was he arrested?"

"At 10746 Abercorn Street."

"That's near the new mall," the lawyer replied. "He and his buddies were probably dragging between stoplights."

Mr. Carpenter spoke. "Russell, since you're such an expert on street racing in Chatham County, I want you to work with Vince."

"Do I get to drive his BMW?" the lawyer asked.

"Only with proper adult supervision," Mr. Carpenter replied.

Several people laughed. Mr. Carpenter looked at me.

"That leaves you, Ms. Taylor."

"Without a choice or a chance!" one lawyer called out.

I took the file from the managing partner and opened it. There were multiple sheets of paper filled with charges. The number of counts was overwhelming. At first, I suspected that I'd gotten some kind of serial criminal by mistake. But as I read the charges, I realized each count was identical except as to location of the offense.

"State v. Jones," I said, quickly turning the pages until I reached the final one. "Twenty-four counts of trespassing. Mr. Jones illegally tied up his boat for the night at twenty-four private docks."

"Allegedly," Mr. Carpenter said. "Not necessarily illegally."

"Yes sir," I replied, although it seemed hard to imagine twentyfour instances of honest mistake or sudden emergency.

"Who would be a suitable mentor?" Mr. Carpenter asked as he looked around the room. No one raised his hand. I glanced at Zach, whose eyes were lowered like a schoolboy trying to avoid the teacher's gaze.

"Sounds like a first cousin to an admiralty case," Mr. Carpenter said. "A lower-level type of piracy on the high seas. Mr. Mays, I want you to help Ms. Taylor."

Zach raised his head, and I studied his reaction. He had a fixed expression that appeared to be a cross between a forced smile and a grimace. I returned to my seat. General conversation resumed in the room.

"Thanks for helping," I said to Zach.

"I'm a man under authority," he replied.

Mr. Appleby left the table. I leaned forward. "Are you upset with me for mentioning your homeschool background?" I asked in a whisper. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Zach shook his head. "No, there's just a lot of pressure with my workload. I didn't need another project on my desk."

"I'm sorry. I won't ask for much help."

I left the table and went to the restroom. No one else was there. I stood in front of the mirror. Challenges surfaced by the minute at the law firm. I wasn't convinced that I hadn't embarrassed Zach Mays. I washed my hands and lightly touched a wet paper towel to my cheeks and forehead.

When I returned to the dining room, everyone was getting ready to leave. Zach and Mr. Appleby were near the door. I started to go to them, but heard Julie call my name.

"Tami!"

I turned around as she came up to me.

"Your case sounds like a lot of work," she said. "Do you think you'll have to interview the owners of every dock where your client tied up his boat?"

"I haven't thought about it," I replied.

"I'd subpoena every one of them," Julie said. "Rich folks don't want to show up in court, and if they don't testify it will knock out a count."

I held up the folder in my hand. "I suspect at least a few of these people would make an appearance, and the punishment for two counts probably wouldn't be much different than for twentyfour."

"But you may be able to wear down the prosecutor and get your client a good deal."

I wasn't interested in a strategy session, but when I looked back to the door Mr. Appleby and Zach were gone.

"Ned says we may raise a Halloween defense for my client," Julie continued. "We could claim he was delusional and believed every day is Halloween. The water-meter outfit was his costume of the day."

"You haven't talked to the client yet."

Julie laughed. "I'm kidding. I wouldn't ask him to lie, but Ned has a great sense of humor. This firm isn't nearly as stuffy as I thought it would be."

Several more lawyers came over and introduced themselves. Julie received most of the attention.

"Is there a firm directory?" Julie asked as the crowd thinned. "I won't be able to remember everyone's name."

Vince patted his laptop. "I have that information in a file."

Julie put her arm in his. "We've only been here half a day, and already I don't know what I'd do without you."

Ms. Patrick joined us. "That went nicely," she said. "I'm glad you were all able to be here."

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

On the return trip to the office, Julie talked nonstop from the backseat while Vince and I sat in silence. She repeated several stories told by the lawyers at her table.

"Did you hear anything interesting?" she asked as we pulled into the firm parking lot.

"Just a few comments from Mr. Braddock about the project I'm working on," Vince said. "Nothing that would interest you."

"Tami?" Julie asked.

"Mr. Appleby wanted to talk about homeschool education," I said as Vince parked the car.

"Yeah, it took courage to mention that," Julie said. "It was way outside the box. What was his reaction?"

"Positive. His family had a private tutor when he lived in Africa as a boy."

"Cool."

Julie got out of the car and walked rapidly toward the office. Vince lagged behind, and out of courtesy I stayed with him.

"Did you have offers from other law firms?" he asked as we walked across the parking lot.

"No, I was surprised when I got the letter from Mr. Carpenter."

"What were you going to do?"

"Work as an eviscerator in a chicken plant."

"Cutting open the chickens?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"The Latin root of the word."

I laughed. "Do you type in Latin?"

Vince smiled slightly. "No, but I'd like to learn more about homeschooling from someone who went through it and became academically successful."

"Why?"

We reached the front of the office. He opened the door for me.

"I like to learn, especially from a person with strong convictions. Maybe we could go to lunch?"

"I'm sure they will have other events on the schedule."

We reached the hallway. Vince turned toward Mr. Braddock's office suite.

"Thanks for the ride," I said.

"You're welcome."

I stopped by Mr. Carpenter's office. His secretary had made copies of the documents in the Folsom divorce file. Even at this early stage of the proceedings, it was thick enough to require a large, expandable folder. Carrying it with both hands, I returned to the library. Julie glanced up when I entered.

"Did Vince ask you out?" she asked.

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