But Kurt was already in his litigator’s mindset to crush the other side or die trying. That switch was flipped when Stockton hadn’t sent the file, refused Kurt’s calls, and put him on the fictitious phone hold. Such tactics made real litigators determined to win and inflict maximum pain on their adversaries. In this case, especially because Kurt believed gorilla-level posturing from his L.A. power firm would solve the petty problem.
A walk-away would satisfy Kurt under the circumstances. It would be an honorable and reasonable capitulation. In this freebie case, Kurt would settle for that. But to get the power of the firm behind him he had to get the firm to take the case.
* * *
Kurt wrestled with just how to make that happen. He had already jumped the gun by sending Stockton letters on firm letterhead without partner clearance.
He was worried. It’ll never pass the altruistic pro bono test. There’s no large social issue. Damn … a personal favor and I’ll get stuck with the costs and eating my billables.
Kurt had lost his adrenaline rush and was not happy. He hoped he could shortcut the billable time with the Family Law Department’s expertise. Then, he wouldn’t have to reinvent the family law wheel.
Kurt had always been nice to the lawyers in the firm’s boutique Family Law Department—Dee Meyerhoff and Jim Fields. He’d appeal to Dee’s idealism and desire to clean up her own profession by weeding out this rogue divorce lawyer who had sexually harassed a client. The attempted rape was a trump card for the presentation. Then, when Stockton went away, the case would too. Eliana could do her own State Bar complaint if she wanted to pursue the sexual harassment aspect.
As a partner, unlike Kurt, Dee had the clout to get the firm to take in Eliana’s case.
* * *
He called Dee. He personalized his charm just for her and tailored his schmoozing before he hit her up with the favor card—Eliana’s case. She cut Kurt’s overtures short.
“So what’s up, Kurt?” Dee was through schmoozing—that wasn’t billable.
“I have a case and I wanted to see what you thought. Are you free?”
“Sure. What’s it about?”
Kurt skirted around the true nature of the case long enough that Dee just said, “Come on down.”
She was always glad to take on a new case, especially one that might ultimately end up on her tape and jack up her compensation at the end of the year. Had she known it was a freebie, she wouldn’t have been so quick with her invitation.
Kurt headed down to Dee’s office with copies of Stockton’s complaint, Eliana’s preliminary chronology, and the case file.
* * *
The Family Law Department was three floors below Kurt’s Commercial Litigation Department—thus, three floors below in law firm clout and status. The specialty grew in California post-1970 when the male-dominated legislature and divorced male governor changed California divorce law to “no fault.” From then on, it was a fight to the financial finish line for the divorcing spouses—the children thrown into unsupported and uncolleged adulthood at eighteen. The attorneys gaining another lucrative specialty.
Kurt’s Commercial Litigation Department housed the firm’s big boys—movers, shakers, and rainmakers. Those who made the place tick and brought in the broad client power base—international corporations, national businesses pushing to go international, and techies with their budding intellectual property practice.
Kurt took a seat and Jim joined them.
Dee was diminutive behind her large walnut desk with neatly stacked client files. She was scarecrow-like with her moss green suit draped expensively over her bony shoulders. Her face was attractive with huge eyes unadorned by makeup, framed by a carefully and expensively colored and styled aristocratic chocolate pixie cut. Her laugh was infectious and was her way of coping with the negativity endemic in divorce law.
Jim was as thin as Dee but tall and prematurely greying. He had a pronounced Adam’s apple with an overall image reminiscent of a modern Ichabod Crane. Around the firm, he was intense and withdrawn. He already had a reputation as a viper in court who dug his legal teeth into his opponent’s jugular with incisive legal acumen. His clients liked him and especially his win rate—reputedly one hundred percent.
Kurt needed Dee’s clout with the managing partners to get Eliana’s matter into the firm with a billing number and quickly done. Dee would then be the supervising partner.
* * *
The dog and pony show began with Kurt handing them each a copy of Gary Stockton’s small claims suit for legal fees and costs.
“Here’s the doctored file I got after this guy delayed producing it. The whole thing is a fiction.”
“I’ll take it,” Jim said.
Kurt pitched to Dee as Jim looked through Stockton’s file. True to his character, Kurt evaluated his audience and honed his presentation appropriately. He needed their expertise. Despite his own extraordinary win record as a commercial litigator, this was not his area of the law.
* * *
Kurt presented Eliana’s case in its best light with the attempted rape as the finale. They listened and evaluated—Dee sipping her cold black coffee and Jim reading the file. Every decent litigator developed a style to capitalize on strengths and mask any shortcomings. Kurt had done just that. They both respected his well-honed outline of events, his wit, and his quick mind.
Dee finally spoke. “I get the malpractice, but you want fraud, too?”
“Fraud would be good.” Jim glanced up from the file. “Most of the stuff is obviously fabricated. A computer guy could get the date they were fabricated.”
Dee responded, “Too expensive and we won’t need it. There’s a presumption against those bills anyway. He delayed handing over the file and never served the discovery he billed for.”
“The forensic accounting was premature,” Jim said. “Plus way too hefty for that berg and the size of the husband’s business.”
Dee confirmed, “You want to base the malpractice claim on him withholding services because she refused sex?”
“Why not? Sounds like malpractice to me.” Kurt gave them an abbreviated version of what Eliana had told him.
There was silence.
* * *
Dee and Jim’s eyes were pinned on each other as they thought. Their minds worked with the unspoken unison of twins—unselfconscious and uninhibited. Kurt was repelled by the intimacy radiating between them. It oozed of more than just the intellectual. He fought back his vision of these two naked—white string beans going at it.
Dee’s piercing bursting laughter sucked Kurt’s thoughts back to the present.
He joined in more to release his own tension rather than to partake in Dee’s just plain strange moment.
“Kurt, you surprise me,” Dee said.
“Really? Why?”
She smiled. “I didn’t know you were interested in divorce law and people problems. You business litigators usually like your stuff dry and monetized. This is riddled with people-messiness. This is interesting and could define a new malpractice standard—establish new law.”
Kurt smiled. She’s hooked. I just have to seal the deal.
Dee continued, “If this Eliana is telling the truth, we have him by the short hairs.”
Jim finished Dee’s thought. “It’s exciting … cutting-edge. The hurdle is getting a judge who believes the definition of malpractice is broad enough to include withholding service for sexual favors.”
Kurt recognized their lust for notoriety but hedged his bet with settlement possibilities; after all basically he personally just wanted the Payne power to make this go away.
Kurt said, “He could always settle. His reputation has to be worth more to him than the measly amount he sued for. Then we all win, including Eliana.”
“We might prefer to make new law,” Dee pronounced. “Report him to the Bar. Get one more scumbag booted from our specialty.”
“Sounds like fun. I can think of a few other causes of action, but w
e’re on a tight timetable here.” Jim approved. “Off the top of my head, breach of contract … tortious breach of contract—”
“Obviously intentional infliction of emotional distress.” Dee and Jim volleyed causes of action back and forth with glee.
“We can throw in civil assault and battery, too.” Jim paused. “And, causes of action for sexual battery and violence. We can make that son of a bitch squirm.”
Kurt watched the case take shape. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t even have to be there any longer. They were a duo on fire steaming ahead with purpose cloaked in altruism—eager to nail this pig-of-a-divorce-lawyer for the sheer pleasure of it.
They were just like Kurt—destructive, powerful, and, this time, defensibly idealistic. They were also vicious, hard-charging and nasty.
He was comfortable with them now and confident with their knowledge Stockton would quickly be crushed—one way or another.
* * *
“These are outrageous facts,” Dee said. “Who exactly is this Eliana and why are you so interested in taking this on?”
Kurt explained his connection.
“Good enough. I’ll advise and Jim can help some, but the workload is on you.”
“Then you think the firm will take it?”
“I’ll go to the partners. I’ll get it in as a public service,” Dee said. “The family law bar has low standards, but this is criminal. No one could have made this up.”
“If you knew this woman,” Kurt replied, “you’d know she didn’t.”
“Time is short.” Jim looked at the complaint. “We only have until January 26th to get our complaint on file since if we were stuck in small claims court, that would be the last day to file a cross-complaint, given the trial there is set for January 31st.”
Dee added, “First, we get out a demand letter out. He’s arrogant and will ignore it. Then, draft the complaint. Jim, give Kurt some samples you’ve done and then you go over what he drafts and get it out.”
Kurt asked, “But how do we get this thing out of small claims court?”
Dee smiled. “Simple. Pro pers who represent themselves have done this to us so many times. We just messenger a copy of our complaint to the small claims clerk and they have to send it over to superior court because our complaint will be over the ten-thousand-dollar limit and relates to the same subject matter.”
“Simple.” Kurt smiled too because he had two experts on his side to expedite everything.
She stood to end the meeting. “Double check this woman’s facts and get us the draft letter and complaint by tomorrow evening. Jim and I will do some creative thinking, and he’ll email you some sample complaints from our digital form files to help.”
* * *
Back at his office, Kurt felt as if he had just experienced a tornado of expertise and help. That was what big-firm sharing was about.
The key was that he had authorization to do a demand letter which could end the case immediately. He had to get the superior court complaint ready too and believed the complaint would back Stockton down if the letter didn’t.
Kurt called Angela,
“I think the firm’s on board.”
“Thank you. I love you.”
“I need Eliana’s detailed chronology early am.”
“I don’t have time,” Angela said. “I have a project that—”
Kurt cut her off. “Make time. It’s your family and your mess. This is a he said-she said and Eliana has to be factually accurate … all the gory details for the complaint.”
“Fine, but I have projects—”
Kurt wasn’t interested. “And you have to bring her in at lunch to fact check everything before we file it.”
“But I’ll have to take time off work again.”
Kurt thought, What the hell do you think I’m doing?
On top of a wasted billing day, he was furious at Angela’s assumption that he would spend the night working with her airhead sister, whining and crying with her tear-jerking stupidity. And that her work somehow took priority.
⌘
Copyrighted Material
Chapter 34
To consider new cases Payne held their firm intake meetings on Tuesdays at nine a.m. in the seventeenth-floor conference room. Three partners were on the New Matters Committee, all of them also on the five-partner Executive Committee that ran the firm: the Managing Partner, Elden Horowitz, a premier corporate and real estate law lawyer, Peter Danelli, the head of the Commercial Litigation Department, and Jessica Richards, who ran the firm’s Tax Department with an iron hand.
Leaders nationally in their respective fields, they were hard-nosed. They focused on the firm’s profitability when considering new cases. Collectively, they had been with the firm for over ninety years—their duty to guard the firm’s reputation and its bottom line.
Dee was fourth on the agenda to pitch Kurt’s case that morning. She was late and passed two testy partners in the hall complaining about their new matters being rejected.
* * *
As Dee took a place at the conference table, Mark Johanssen, a real estate partner, was presenting a residential development case. It involved permits, zoning, and environmental approvals for a ninety-two acre environmentally controversial subdivision in Malibu overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The firm’s earnings would be a ten percent contingency fee commission on the home sales, properly zoned.
Horowitz laughed at the presentation. “Really, Mark? How long have we worked together? Fifteen years? When have we ever taken on a contingency real estate matter? Especially such a speculative one fighting environmental tree huggers, the City of Malibu, and the Coastal Commission. It will swill hours faster than hogs swill slop on an Iowa farm.”
“But the upside is huge, Elden. The developer’s appraisers and architects figure they can get approval for twenty homes minimum, at a price of eight to ten million each, so our cut would be around twenty million.”
“Or nothing. I can’t support this.”
“I need this for my tape, Elden. You know … college tuitions, more alimony, it all adds up. It’s my big opportunity.”
“Sorry, Mark.” Jessica jumped in. “It’s a black hole of unbillable hours, aging accounts receivable and, knowing Malibu’s restrictive development rules, a massive write off at the end. I can’t support it either.”
“This is the third time you guys have rejected a case that I have killed myself to land. Are you sending me a message?”
Danelli spoke up. “The only message is to bring us better matters, Mark. No cases with huge risks and really speculative payoffs.”
Johanssen stomped out.
* * *
Fortunately for Dee, the committee’s mood improved as Regina Yang began her presentation.
Danelli’s smile was automatic every time he saw the gorgeous Korean-Chinese associate the firm had been fortunate to snag—summa cum laude from Stanford in economics and Harvard Law Review managing editor.
Behind his officious front, Elden Horowitz imagined this young woman’s full lips on his, her breath hot and sweet. “Ms. Yang, pleasure to see you. It is surprising and nice to have first-year visit us with a matter to consider.”
“Thank you, Mr. Horowitz.”
“What do you have for us?” The less enchanted Jessica Richards pushed the committee forward.
“I have a cousin who’s the general counsel for Asian Pacific Container Corporation. He sent over a copy of this complaint to me last night. They were just served yesterday.” She gave each of the committee members a copy of the thirty-seven-page complaint.
“Hmmm.” Danelli, a Harvard man himself, scanned the caption page for the claims, the plaintiff’s name, and its counsel. “This looks big. Federal case, here in the Central District. Antitrust, fraud, commercial espionage, unfair business practices, quite a list.” He flipped to the last page, the damage claim. “They want two billion in damages? Trebled? Plus punitives?”
Yang smiled. “Yes. The plaintiff, M
anchu Cargo, Inc. is a front for the People’s Republic of China. They claim our client, excuse me Asian Pacific Container Corporation, stole a cargo transfer algorithm, among other things. If they win they will be in a position to monopolize the world cargo container shipping market.”
“I see they’re represented by Adams, Wyman & Heller. I know Larry Heller well. A heavy hitter in antitrust, intellectual property, and commercial litigation.”
“Aren’t we, too?” Yang replied, knowing the ego appeal would go over well.
“We are. But what is your cousin proposing as the terms for our representation?
Yang had them. “Standard hourly rates. They’ll pay all costs, of course … oh … and they sent me this check as a retainer if you want the case.”
The committee members looked down at the quarter million dollar check. It was one of the largest retainers they had seen in some time. All three committee members nodded approvingly. This was a very good day for the firm.
“Ms. Yang, please convey our appreciation to your cousin, and assure him we will not only happily take the case, but staff it with our best people. Prepare our normal engagement letter for him to sign. Peter here, as head of the Commercial Litigation Department, will be the partner lead.”
“Certainly, Mr. Horowitz. Of course, my cousin expects me to be assigned to the case as well.”
“Naturally, Ms. Yang. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Yang left the room, wearing a huge smile. Justifiably so. The occasional “kindnesses” she had to do for, or with, or on her cousin were paying off. This was her first large step toward partnership at the firm.
* * *
Dee was up next and glad she followed Yang and her substantial retainer check.
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