Authors: Evie Adams
Reasonable Doubts (4 page)
I had a yellow legal pad full of notes for him. Work was the only thing I could do once I got home and the only thing I could do here, focus on work, not him, not the electric kiss from last night.
He was a woman's naughtiest fantasy that's all. The kiss was a weakness. An indiscretion, brought on by whiskey and anger and those dimples.
The dimples were gone today, he had not had much to smile about today.
The defense closing arguments were long and boring, but that was exactly what they wanted. Boring facts and figures to make the jury forget about our client, the living, breathing, injured person in front of them.
Jake did take my advice of a blue tie, matching his arrogant eyes. But nothing else had changed.
I was ready for lunch.
The jury was ready for lunch.
The judge and the bailiffs were ready for lunch. I had my notes ready to talk over with Jake at lunch. None of my notes were great, but maybe he could massage a few facts our way. They say if the facts are with you, pound on the facts, if the facts are against you, pound on the table.
I hoped we could figure out something to pound on the table with, but if not, the facts were with us too. We only needed something to make the jury think about him, his life without arms. How he couldn't hug his wife, slap her, grab her face and kiss her hard. . .
Dammit.
Now I was thinking about Jake again.
Momma's boy.
Oedipus complex.
Bad Bad news.
But sexy as hell.
He asked the judge to address them briefly before lunch, and I saw the whole jury box deflate. It seemed like mistake to hold them any longer from their lunches.
Especially jurors 3, 9, 10.
He stood up, slowly, and buttoned his jacket, and glanced back at me.
The dimples flashed.
He winked.
I stand up and button the middle button of my suit, and make them wait for me. Laura's face was riddled with doubt. I couldn't resist giving her a wink. She'd like this.
“I want to thank you for sitting through this case, and I'm sure you want a break by now, to go off and enjoy your lunch and forget about all of this for a while, all of us. All of this,” I picked up the three inch file with the medical opinions, engineering opinions, the whole case file, and dropped it 18 inches onto the table with a THWACK.
It woke everyone up and I had their eyes on me.
“But I want you to remember all of the defense's arguments. That they had warnings posted and provided training, and all the rest of what the defense attorney just talked about for the last three hours. When we get back I'm going to go through how MacArthur was aware that their machines were unsafe, that was why they had the warnings and all the training. What other reason for it? I'm also going to show you how the accident happened despite warnings and training, and the plaintiff here, Josh, being as careful as he could.” I turned to look at him, and the jury followed my lead, he just smiled at me, angelic almost.
“Accidents happen despite warnings and training when the machines are inherently unsafe.” I could hear F. Stuart shuffling his papers, telling me he was ready to object if I went too far, but I didn't object to his closing arguments, so he had to let me go a little bit in mine, or he might look like a jerk to the jury.
He should have objected.
“And I want you to remember that these machines cost $35,000 each and a safety guard which would have prevented the accident to my client would have cost $35, and that wasn't worth it to them. So remember all of that, while you go to lunch.”
“It's a little ritual of mine to go to 'Sandberg's', a little dive of a place two blocks away from here that serves Chicago style Italian Beef sandwiches. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but if you can, I recommend getting a sandwich there, and get it 'wet'. They splash it in juice, soak the bread, but that's okay, messy sandwiches are always the best and these very messy. These are worth the mess. Grab plenty of napkins and be prepared to get it all over you,” I pantomimed licking my fingers and mopping up my suit and face, using my tie as a napkin, a few of them laughed, but not jurors # 3, 9 or 10, they had been tough all trial.
F. Stuart and the judge had no idea what I was doing. “I took my client, Josh, there the other day, but we won't be there today. I ate, and used a pile of napkins, but for Josh, the plaintiff here, the reason we're all here today, they served it in a big bowl, like a dog's dish, and he had to eat it like an animal. Enjoy your lunch.”
I had barely walked out of the courtroom when F. Stuart caught up to me, grabbed my arm, “I'll raise it to $5 million,” he begged, as quietly as he could.
I had that shit-eating grin of his on my face, “Last week it was $1 million and you seemed pretty cocky. I don't think I can do it.” I had to tell Josh about an offer, ethically, but I knew he wouldn't take it. He didn't care about the money, it wouldn't buy him new arms and it wouldn't send the message we were trying to send to all the other companies.
“Seven, I can go seven!” He yelled at me, but I was already walking away.
I picked up a sandwich from Sandberg's, take-out, and I ate it across the street in a little park where I could watch.
Four of my jurors found the place and went in together and ate. I would have been happier if it was all 12, but I ate the best sandwich of my life in that little park.
After lunch I bored the jury with my medical and engineering reports, but it didn't matter, they were paying more attention to Josh than they were to me, which is what I wanted anyways. I rested and we sent them to deliberate.
After half an hour I started to get nervous. Those creeping doubts that I usually ignore, but after an hour the forewoman came out and asked the court 'what was the limit they could award as punitive damages?'
The judge told her there was no limit, and F. Stuart's face had zero traces of that grin left.
I told F. Stuart to send his best offer to me before court began the next morning at 10am. “Your BEST offer. And you don't have to admit fault, but you do have to make a promise to start installing safety guards on all your machines.”
“So don't admit fault, but admit there's a solution?” He asked, as if I was being unreasonable.
“Or take your chances, up to you. Have a good night.” He would be up all night trying to squeeze money out of the managers because he had to tell them if they don't settle for everything they have, they could all be out of jobs tomorrow.
My night would be a lot different.
I was thinking celebration.
Wine, women, and song, but only after I stopped by the office to receive thanks and admiration from my Boss and Laura.
Okay, so that was pretty impressive.
He went from flailing around trying to find a closing argument, to finding the best one I've ever seen. There was no way the jury could forget that.
They would eat lunch and think of nothing else. Then, even better, they would think of all the other things they couldn't do if they were like Josh and had no arms.
They would think about going to the bathroom, they would think about the bedroom, everything that makes us human becomes so much harder.
It was brilliant.
He should have thought of it earlier.
I
should have thought of it earlier.
But all of this through me for a loop. I had notes for him, but I also had a full report for the whole jury and case and what a good figure to settle for should be. My report had been based on how the jury was up until that point, but everything changed.
Now they were unpredictable, but on his side for sure.
I had to go look up similar cases and similar judgments. And maybe add 30% for that dramatic closing, It was that good.
I didn't stick around to see the rest of his closing, I knew it would be the usual: going over the entire case, poking the holes in the defendant's case. 'If the facts are with you, pound on the facts, if the facts are against you, pound on the table.'
That spectacle before lunch was him pounding on the table, but he had the facts too, to pound on after lunch.
Why am I saying pounding so much when I think of him?
Goddamn it.
I left and worked on my report, going back to the office to meet with him and Diane.
He was late of course.
I could hear them arguing through the door
“Junior, you missed the appointment I required you to go to last night.”
“I had things to do, I waited as long as I could. And anyways, we did meet up.”
“I'm here now, where's the report from this voodoo doctor?”
“The report and her are in my office. But I'm not sure if you're fired or not.”
“You can't fire me, my name is on the firm.”
“Your father's name is on the firm. You're not a partner yet.”
“Fire me and I'll take Josh and his verdict to my new firm.”
“You wouldn't dare.”
“Neither would you. I'm your best lawyer. I don't want to go anywhere else and you don't want me anywhere else. So you have to deal with my difficult nature. Creative geniuses are often temperamental and difficult, but the results are worth it.”
“Your results are what we're here for.”
The door opened and they swept in.
“Sit down Jacob and listen to her.” Diane tells him. There aren't many people he listens to, but she's one of them, sometimes.
I went through my report, each juror and their reactions, his skills and successes and where he lost them.
He's furious, simmering, ready to blow. He couldn't charm and rage at the same time.
“That's all well and good, Dr. Phil would’ve told us the same thing. I could have told you the same thing.” He announces, his jaw tightened.
“What are your bottom line recommendations?” Asked Diane.
“Attorney Hughes did a great job, especially on closing. Some of the best I've ever seen. But he has a tendency to be tenacious and over-confident. There are 3 jurors I don't think he won over. His theatricality was very good, but alienated #9 who has a heart condition and especially doesn't like loud noise surprises. I think the lost wages are worth $500 thousand, the pain and suffering about $4.5 million, in similar cases. Punitive can match the pain and suffering or be uncapped, but uncapped would be appealed for sure. Anything over 9 should be taken.”
He flashes that devil-may-care grin when things aren't going his way. And those dimples come out, charming, cute as hell. “Josh would never agree to that. We promised we would change the way they do business.” He breathed in deeply, his chest and shoulders straining the suit.
Jake lost his temper, already.
I told him, “The initial offer sheet came over this afternoon with the promise to change the way they do business.”
“Josh won't agree, he was in court, he saw me. He knows we'll put them out of business.”
“If you talk to him and argue him and lawyer him, sure he'll listen to you. But if you put the facts in front of him, and ask him to make a decision, he'll take the offer, he doesn't want to sit in appeals for years.”
“Mother, you can't seriously be listening to this psychologist when you have a lawyer telling you otherwise.”
“Call me Diane, we’re both adults. Listening to you has gotten me into trouble. And besides, she is a lawyer too.”
“OK, but not a trial lawyer like me.”
“Yes, a trial lawyer like you, and with an 8 figure verdict, something you don't have.”
His dimples flashed at me. My stomach flipped. His penetrating and fierce gaze focused on me, like he was looking at me for the first time. He didn't know that part of my history. “Why even have me here if you've already decided?”
“For appearances sake and - I don't know, call it
morale
,- it's a team decision.”
He wagged his eyebrows at me. “But once I talk to Josh, he'll do whatever I tell him.”
“Josh is here on speaker, aren't you Josh?'”
“Hi Jake.”
He stared at me, his lips curling into a smile, he wasn't deflated, could anything rattle this guy? “Josh, lets confer not on speaker.”
“OK Jake.”
He went over to the phone and picked it up, it was still loud enough for all of us to hear Josh's voice. “You're right Jake, I'll pretty much do what you say, I've been with you this far, but I kind of like what she said. And she sounds hot, is she hot?”
He looked back at me, arched his eyebrows, amused. His wandering, mischievous eyes, fell down my dress, going from my top to bottom. “She was better last night.”
“Oh, I want to hear all about it, is that why you're off today?”
“I'm never off, we can talk later.”
“Oh, sure, I forget you're at work there. So, what should I do Jake?”
He paused, it seemed like forever, and that cocksure smile appeared again. “You should do what's best for you and your family, Josh. This deal is good. It's everything we wanted when we started. But it's not front page material.”
“Will other companies change what they do?”
“Yes, probably.”
“Then that's good. I don't want to be on the front page anyways.”
But Jacob Hughes did, that was easy to tell, but he didn't let on to Josh. “Well, then I'll review the offer and have you sign it.”
“Great. Thanks Jake. By the way I don't think you're over-confident.”
He hung up the phone and wheeled around to face us. “What’s 33% of 50 million? That's what your consultant just cost us.”
“33% of a 5 year appeals process and bringing the amount down on appeal is priceless though.” I snapped.
“So is having cash flow to operate for 6 more months. And pay off the experts engineers, doctors, depositions, salaries, the million for this case and the two million we still owe the bank for Falver,” said Diane. “Laura please review all of his current files, and make similar reports, for prospective jurors and values.”
“You can't be serious?”
“Yes. Without this one, I was considering selling to Artie. With positive cash flow I can wait.”
“What was the offer at least?” “
“9.7 million. Her figures on pain and suffering matched theirs and their insurance companies' while yours were a lot lower.”
“No?”
“A similar case settled last week for 8, you must have missed that one.”
“I was busy conducting a trial.”
“Well that's what she's here for. To let you do just one job, and she can worry about all the things surrounding it.”
“Look over the offer and bring her to meet with Josh. I'll call the court to suspend the jury in anticipation of settlement.”
“Just don't try to shake his hand.” He told me, “Come meet me in my office in 20 or so, we'll get started.
