Chapter 40
September 4, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
MARTHA’S GEBBERT’S FACE contorted, the lines around her eyes deepening. She twisted a paper napkin in her hand until it wrapped around her whitening index finger. Her eyes darted from side to side, while tears dripped onto her wooden kitchen table.
“For the past two years I have been trapped here. I think I am going out of my mind. The thought of doing what you are telling me makes me want to retch,” she screamed, pointing directly at Mike.
Once again, Mike Reigert was staring at his star witness and picturing his case imploding. Mike had been meeting with Martha and her husband for over two hours to prepare the Gebberts for their time in court.
“Martha,” Mike said pleadingly, “I’m doing everything I can to try to make you comfortable with what will happen once we walk into the courtroom.”
Martha stared blankly at Mike and then looked up at her husband.
“I’ve brought everything I have in the file with me,” Mike continued. “I’m showing you every possible exhibit that will a part of the trial. What is the problem?”
Mike dropped the papers he was holding onto the table and turned his back on his clients. Paul Gebbert grabbed Mike’s arm and guided him out of the kitchen and into the living room.
“I don’t know Mike,” Paul began, “when we were meeting last week she seemed fine. I guess trial is pretty close and she’s realizing that.”
“I understand the pressure trial puts on people. I get it, but I can’t spend all day here going over the same thing. Do you know how much I have to do to get ready for the trial? I’m still summarizing depositions and making witness outlines. Stephanie is back at the office getting all of the exhibits organized and I have to know them all backwards and forwards. I have to finish the jury instructions and do pretrial motions and briefs. I thought preparing the two of you would be the simplest task I had.” Mike shook his head in frustration.
“I get it. I’m trying to get her on board, but she just isn’t responding.”
Mike and Paul returned to the kitchen where Martha was staring out the window. “I can’t sit in that courtroom and have them pick me apart,” Martha sobbed. “I can’t watch the videotape. I can’t listen to the security guard say that I’m a thief. I can’t−I won’t make it through the trial.”
The scene in his office months before when Martha melted down prior to her deposition flashed in Mike’s head. Mike considered how her deposition was only five hours and these proceedings would be significantly longer and infinitely more intense. Mike wished Stephanie was at the Gebbert home offering Martha some well-chosen words to help Martha overcome her fears. Even channeling Stephanie at this point would do little good−Martha couldn’t handle the stress of the trial.
“Paul,” Mike directed at Martha’s husband, “I don’t think she will make it through this trial if she has to watch the whole thing and I don’t want this to cause her any more emotional stress and make anything worse for her.”
Paul nodded in agreement. “What should we do?”
Mike put his hand to his chin and thought. After a minute of reflection, he smiled. “I think we minimize the potential harm to Martha,” he said, “while reaping some benefit for us.” He stood from his seat at the kitchen table. “Sometimes, in cases where a person suffered a devastating injury, like ending up in a wheelchair and ventilator dependent, they don’t attend most of the trial, but are wheeled in at the end to offer testimony. This builds suspense and supports the impression of significant harm.”
“Like in this case,” Paul interrupted.
“Absolutely. This might be a way to convey that perception to the jury. I think the less they see of Martha, the better for us. Paul you will be the face of the family. What do you think?”
“Sounds acceptable to me.”
“I still want Stacey and Tanner to tell the jurors how Martha’s injuries have affected their life,” Mike said, returning his attention to both his clients.
“Absolutely not,” Martha responded. “I don’t want my kids questioned by that attorney. I won’t be there to protect them.”
Mike wanted Paul Gebbert’s support, but Paul said, “She says they shouldn’t testify. I think she knows best.”
Mike hoped one of them would change their minds. When they didn’t, he said, “Fine. Paul you are going to be the only Gebbert at trial until Martha testifies. I hope you can tell the jury what’s happened to your family. The plan is risky−it might turn off the jurors who may want more of Martha. But given none of us think she should attend the whole trial, I believe we have to implement this strategy and keep our fingers crossed. Are you two on board?”
Martha appeared relieved to pass the burden of being present to someone else. Paul turned to Mike and said, “I think that is the best we can do under the circumstances.”
Chapter 41
September 5, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
JACK STARED AT the expansive plate glass windows in the conference room and wondered how much force it would take to shatter them and what it would feel like to fall 57 floors to the concrete below. He felt ragged and distraught, unable to sort through his thoughts, like a person feels right after a family member dies without warning.
“Hey snap out of it,” Peggy Gamble said from the doorway to the conference room. “I’ve been watching you for the last two minutes and you had no idea I was standing here.”
“That’s true,” Jack replied, rubbing his eyes. “I’m having troubles focusing on what I need to do.” He pointed to the myriad of documents strewn about the conference room. “I’ve been in here for the past two weeks. Wagner took away all of my other assignments. It’s Wendell’s department store one hundred percent of the time.”
“Are you ready for trial?”
“How the hell should I know? I’ve never tried a case before. I know every deposition backwards and forwards. I’ve memorized every word of the company’s policies. I’ve got witness outlines and jury instructions. I know her medical records better than her doctor, but I’m not sure if that is enough.”
“How are your witnesses?”
“The corporate reps came into town last week so we can prepare them. Ed spent some facetime with them and then left me to do all the work. I yelled at them because they were a little too at ease. They are confident the company didn’t do anything wrong. I tried to get them to see it from the other side’s perspective. I don’t think I succeeded.”
Jack walked over to the windows and stared out at the lake. “I think I’m doing a good job getting this case ready for trial, but I don’t know. I’ve read their expert reports, but I’m still not really sure what they are going to say. Wagner’s not helping much and nobody here can tell me if I’m on the right track. You want to know the worst thing? It’s trying to sleep at night. I don’t get much sleep. I just lie there and the case runs through my head and I can’t stop it. I think it’s normal, but this constant sense of dread is killing me. I guess the only good thing is that I’m billing the shit out of this file.”
“Wow, sounds rough. I would love to offer you some sage advice, but I’ve pretty much only reviewed documents since I’ve been here, so I don’t have much insight to give to you about how to try a case.”
“I appreciate you stopping by to check on me. When this is over, let’s get some lunch.”
Mike watched Gamble walk out of the conference room, jealous that she was going to sit in her office and review a box of documents without worry. He looked at the stack of boxes piled against the wall. He thought with only two more days to prepare before flying to Pittsburgh he had to buckle down for his final push. He wanted to find someone to give him a last-minute tutorial on how to try this case. A melancholy gloom hovered over him. He could think of no one to ask for guidance.
Chapter 42
September 6, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
THE DINER WAS not as crowded as usual. It was late afternoon and only a few people occupied the counter seats. Mike stood at the door, unsure of what to do, then spied him when he waved at Mike to come over to his booth. Mike dithered, taking off his coat and hanging it on the hooks. He couldn’t avoid the conversation now despite his growing apprehension.
The man in the booth stood and attempted to smile. The effort fell flat. Mike walked towards the far side of the booth and when the man reached to hug him, Mike stepped aside and tumbled into the seat.
“Mikey, it’s good to see you. How have you been?” the man began after they both were seated.
“I’ve been fine. Fine for the last six years since I’ve seen you.”
The man looked down and took a sip of water. “I deserved that. I know it.”
Mike nodded and looked at the menu. They sat in silence.
“Your mom told me you were working with her brother,” the man started again. “Stan’s always been a good guy.”
“He is. He’s always there when I need someone to talk to.”
The man winced. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it? I know I haven’t been around. I just wanted a chance to catch up.”
Mike leaned back against the vinyl. “I gave you chances for years. You never seemed to want them then. Why are you trying to be my dad now?”
Mike’s father looked up at the ceiling. Mike observed that he had aged so much since the last time he’d seen him. His hair was now grey and wrinkles had formed around his eyes and jetted across his forehead. “I know I haven’t been good to you,” Mike’s dad said. “I know.”
Mike thought about being six and finding out that his dad had left. He pondered the times he had tried to connect with him, but only felt rejected. He knew he couldn’t let himself feel like that again.
“Great, Dad. You’re forgiven. Is that good enough?”
“No, that’s not what I’m here for. I just want to apologize.”
“I’m not sure we have enough time for that.”
“Mike, I know, but let me try.” Mike’s dad took a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to start, but here goes. I’m an alcoholic. Your mom kicked me out before I did real damage to you and your brother. She told me she never told you anything about me and let you draw your own conclusions, but for nearly twenty years I drank every day. I got some help recently and I haven’t been drinking, but part of my treatment is that I have to apologize to the people I’ve hurt. You are probably the one I hurt most, so this is the hardest one I’ve done.”
Mike stared at his father. “I never knew,” he said.
“I’m sorry Mike. I’m sorry I was never there for you and sorry that I don’t know how to make things easier for you.”
“Dammit, Dad. I would have really wanted to hear this−fifteen years ago, but right now I’m not in a position to deal with it. I have this big case going to trial next week and that’s all I can think about. I want to invest in what you are saying, but it’s too much for me right now.”
Mike’s dad smiled. “I get it, Mike. Trust me, I get it. Just give me a chance once your trial is over so I can explain.”
Mike nodded.
“You know what?” Mike’s dad continued. “I’m going to be in town for a little. Can I stop by and see some of the trial?”
“Oh god, Dad. I don’t know.”
“Please. I want to see how a trial works. I’ve never been to one. I promise I won’t say a word. You don’t even have to talk to me.”
Mike felt the energy drain from his body. “I can’t stop you, Dad. Trials are open to anyone. Please remember, this is really important to me. I need to focus on what I’m doing there.”
“You got it.”
Chapter 43
September 7, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
THE TELEVISION WAS broadcasting a college football game. The score was tied. There were less than two minutes remaining and the crowd was going crazy. Mike and Megan sat on the couch, uninterested. Their attention was focused on the stacks of medical records strewn across the sofa, coffee table, and floor.
“Come on, you are Dr. Lawson, don’t throw Megan O’Malley into the answer,” Mike chastised Megan.
“Oh my god, we’ve been doing this for two hours and this is the first time I went out of character. Give me a break, you are killing me,” Megan responded with exasperation while gently caressing Mike’s check.
“Stop,” Mike commanded. “Dr. Lawson would never do such a thing. He is a board-certified neuro-psychiatrist hired by Wendell’s to examine Martha Gebbert and offer the opinion in his court filed expert report that she suffered no injury from the store detective locking her to a table−essentially calling my client a liar and a faker. I don’t think Dr. Lawson is going to be caressing my face. Let’s go over this questioning one more time.”
Megan sighed and rolled her eyes, hoping they could take a break from Mike’s practice cross-examination of the company’s hired gun. For the past week Mike had been coming over Megan’s tidy apartment and running through the questions they expected the store lawyer to ask, then practicing the questions he expected to ask of every witness.
Now they were moving onto the expert witnesses. Megan had already heard Mike’s opening statement three times sitting patiently as Mike attempted to hone in on the company’s weaknesses without overselling his case.
Megan knew more about the case than anyone except for Mike. Megan easily comprehended the legal issues in the case and could digest volumes of testimony helping Mike fine-tune his case for the jury.
Mike gave Megan a stern look and said, “It was your idea that we start with the Gebbert’s damages even before we present any evidence that the company did anything wrong. You know that’s backward and we are taking a risk. If I’m going to stick my neck out like that, then I would think you would want to make sure we prepare properly.”
Megan looked wounded. “Can’t we take a little break? I want to make out some. Since you started preparing for this trial we never do any of that stuff.” Megan immediately felt guilty for asking, knowing this case consumed Mike and it would be all he thought about until the jury announced its verdict.
Mike reached over, grabbed Megan behind the neck, and pulled her close. They kissed deeply and Megan started to melt into his arms. Just as quickly as it began, Mike backed away to ask, “Dr. Lawson, your examination of Mrs. Gebbert lasted a total of forty minutes, didn’t it?”
Megan rolled her eyes and said in monotone, “Yes, counselor, you are correct.” She turned her back to Mike. “I guess Dr. Lawson isn’t going to get any loving right now.”
“Not tonight, but after this trial is over, I’m going to take this Dr. Lawson away to some remote island for some thorough attention.”
Chapter 44
September 10, 2018, 6:00 a.m.
Trial Day 1
JERI WOKE REFRESHED. She quietly got out of bed hoping not to disturb Alan, who was sleeping soundly after meeting late into the night with the mayor’s sub-committee on reducing crime in the city. She patted her belly, marveling at how much the baby was starting to show in the weeks since her wedding. The downtown condominium they lived in still smelled new. Jeri put on a new pale green suit and applied a hint of makeup.
The sun was just beginning to illuminate downtown, backlighting the tall buildings waiting for the workers to come back into the city. Slightly nervous to preside over her first trial, Jeri closed the door behind her to begin the half-mile walk to the courthouse.
Four blocks away, Jack Rogers tipped the bellman who had spent the last two hours transporting Jack’s boxes containing the binders holding the pleadings, depositions, and outlines over to the courthouse. Jack stood at the entrance to the downtown hotel ready to head to court.
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Ed Wagner approached Jack from behind and slapped him on the back. Jack nearly jumped out of his skin and yelped in surprise. Wagner, smartly attired in his navy pinstriped suit with cufflinks poking out of the sleeves, carried a swanky leather hard-shell briefcase with gold-plated clasps. “Okay Skippy,” Wagner said, “let’s go watch you try your first case. I got my yellow pad here and I’m ready to help.”
Thirty miles to the east, Mike Reigert gently pressed on his horn when he pulled alongside the curb in front of his uncle’s house. Almost immediately Stan opened the door and began walking towards the car. He nodded at Mike when he got in, but neither said a word. Mike stared straight ahead, contemplating his plans for the first day of trial.
“I know you’re nervous,” Stan said. “If you want to practice your opening statement one more time, I’m happy to hear it. I know how nervous you probably are and I want to help.”
Mike reached over and touched his uncle’s arm. They drove the rest of the way in silence.
Waking up across the county, forty different individuals’ routines had been knocked out of whack. These people were forced to call off from work, get babysitters, and make sure they accounted for everything in their lives until they got home later that afternoon. Most rarely made it downtown and didn’t know what bus to take or where to park. Many had little idea what to expect and couldn’t decide if they were excited to experience something different or annoyed they were being forced to come into town just because they received a piece of paper in the mail. They had their own reasons for wanting to be on a jury or for doing their best to avoid being picked. Today, each would spend eight hours in court and receive twelve dollars for their service.
Chapter 45
Legal Reserves Page 16