“Objection!”
“Overruled.”
“They empowered General Zhao with their willful ignorance.”
“Objection!”
“Overruled.”
“We therefore ask that you find all these defendants liable. All of them.” Marcus looked toward the defense table for the first time since beginning his arguments. “Those present and those not present.”
“Your Honor, I protest.”
Judge Nicols showed a genuine reluctance to even turn his way. “Mr. Kendall, do not even begin to go down this road.”
“What road might that be, Your Honor?”
Her voice grated with irritation. “The road,” she replied, “of thinking you can disrupt the plaintiff’s arguments with unnecessary objections. Try it and I will find you in contempt.” She did not even wait to see if he took his seat again. “Proceed.”
Marcus had stood inspecting his shoes throughout the exchange. When he glanced up, he could see by the look in their eyes that the jury agreed with him on some very deep level. This time he sensed that these were not people who needed further convincing. So he dropped everything he had planned to say except, “We must address the issue of damages. That’s really all I feel I should do at this point. Anything more would only detract from what you already know.”
To his left stood a third easel, this one holding a white drawing board. As he turned toward it, he caught sight of Judge Nicols glaring down at Logan, holding him in his seat. He picked up the grease pencil and wrote the single word actual. “We are just going to assign a number here because we have to. How anyone could set a dollar value on the life of a young woman so full of joy and intelligence and promise is beyond me, so I’m not even going to try.” He wrote out the number, and said as he did, “So we’ll just say one hundred thousand dollars.”
Below that he wrote a second word, punitive. “Punitive damages are damages in addition to the actual damages. Here there can be some differences in culpability. You can ask yourselves: Who acted in a malicious manner? Who was more directly responsible for Gloria’s kidnapping and imprisonment and torture, and is therefore subject to the more substantial punitive damages?
“You may decide that the U.S. company merely colluded in making this happen. I suggest to you that the evidence has shown otherwise. I propose that their attitude has been very consistent. Whenever anything appeared to threaten their market share or profits, their response was whatever it takes. They have never objected in any way to the actions of their partners. They are and always have been concerned with one thing only—their bottom line. No concern was given to the people who suffered at their hands, directly or indirectly.”
Beside the first word he wrote New Horizons. “Their annual statement shows that the company’s turnover last year was just over one billion, eight hundred million dollars. Their profit before taxes was about three hundred and twenty-seven million. They have had a run of several good years, and they currently hold over two hundred million dollars in cash and other liquid assets.” He wrote these figures on the board, then stepped back, giving them all a chance to ponder what they meant.
He then stepped up to the easel and wrote China. “This morning’s Wall Street Journal stated in a front-page article that U.S. financial institutions currently hold frozen Chinese government assets to the tune of eighty-one billion dollars.”
“No!” The sound tore through the silence like a sword. All eyes turned to where the general stood behind the defense table, his fist held like a gun aimed straight at Marcus. It was the first time Marcus had ever heard the man speak. Only he was not speaking now. He roared the words over the sound of Judge Nicols gavel. “You cannot do this! It is against international law! You must be stopped!” He turned to the judge and shouted, “You have power! Stop this insane man!”
“You sit down!” When the man merely dropped his arm, she pointed the gavel at a uniformed officer. “Bailiff, if he won’t be seated, cuff him to the chair.”
“Ah, you are crazy.” He rammed himself down, muttering furious incantations.
Marcus returned to his board, started to speak, shook his head. He turned back to the jury and merely said, “Thank you.”
Judge Nicols allowed the moment to linger, as strong a courtroom accolade as Marcus could ever recall receiving. She then turned to Logan and said, “All right, Mr. Kendall.”
He sprang up as though ejected from his seat, and strode to center stage with Suzie Rikkers in fretful attendance. Together they dismantled the easels and stowed the photographs. Logan did not wait for Suzie to resume her seat before launching into his rebuttal. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the question now is the same question we started out on. That question is: What in the world are we doing here? What in the world have my clients done to justify this circus?”
The silver pen was out and waving like a sparkling baton, but the jury had the look of a band not certain which tune they should be playing. “These guys have drawn up some charges and thrown them against the wall to see what sticks. But you mustn’t forget, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that they have a serious credibility problem here. They have no reliable witness tying anybody to the alleged incident. Remember that. It is crucial.”
He paced toward the empty witness box, made a fist and planted it softly upon the railing. He said a final time, “No credible witness. No one to tie the abuses you have seen to my clients.”
He then lowered his head a fraction and bulled forward. “I have a story I could tell you, a tragic tale about a factory with conditions so bad it would make you weep to hear about them. Only this factory was not over in China. No. It was here in North Carolina, and the case against this particular factory was tried just twenty-three years ago. Here in our beloved state, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Less than a quarter of a century ago, we ourselves had factories that were run like prisons.”
He raised his gaze to meet theirs. “Yes, China is behind us in some things. But they are working hard to catch up. And what is more important still, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what is absolutely critical here, what you must never forget, is that these conditions have nothing whatsoever to do with this case. Nothing. We are here because a woman has gone missing. Remember that. This is what has brought us together. The rest is just smoke. Don’t let the plaintiff’s attorney cloud your vision by blowing smoke at you. Don’t you dare let him.”
He waved his pen again, and this time they followed. “They say that New Horizons Incorporated and General Zhao should somehow be held liable for the disappearance of a political activist whom they can’t find. What they seem to have forgotten is that you do not enter a courtroom without a case that is somehow founded upon truth. Law and fact, and nothing else, make up this truth. Law and fact. I submit to you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that they remain wide of the mark on both these vital issues. The law is against them. This remains a political issue that should never have entered this courtroom. And the facts are not with them. Remember what I said. No reliable witness.” He held them a moment longer, then swept the baton down and away. “They have failed to tie my clients to the alleged misdeed. Do not hold them responsible for what they have not done. I have said it before, I will say it again: Let us wrap this up and go home.”
FORTY-EIGHT
THE JUDGE’S INSTRUCTIONS took an hour and a half. The written interrogatories were passed out, the final orders solemnly intoned, and the case handed to the jury.
As soon as the jury retired and the judge departed, Marcus returned his little group to the pair of rooms lent them by Jim Bell. The press had grown impatient and tried to break through the police barrier, but Darren and the guards were ready. Darren and Deacon brought coffee and sandwiches that no one touched. Marcus stared at the food, knowing he was hungry, knowing also he would not keep anything down. He had known such letdowns before, but nothing this complete. He was anxious to learn the verdict, yet he knew it would do little good.
Charlie
opened the door and slipped inside. Somehow the man seemed to have drawn both years and energy from the tirade washing against the windows. “Your audience is waiting.”
“Not now.”
“Come on, son.” Charlie walked over and pulled on his sleeve. “I know how you’re feeling, and I’m gonna share with you the barest truth I can. It don’t matter.”
“Charlie, I don’t have a thing to tell those people.”
“Sure you do.” The second tug was more insistent. “You’re a lawyer. You’re paid to think on your feet and spout hot air.”
Kirsten leaned against the wall, watching them. “He’s right, Marcus.”
“ ’Course I am. Listen to that din out there. They’re waiting for you to come out and give them the word from on high.”
“They’ll eat me alive,” Marcus said, but nonetheless allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.
“Naw. Take a little nibble here and there, that’s all.” Charlie unbuttoned the sleeve covering Marcus’ cast. “Roll that up and leave off your coat.”
“Charlie, this is absurd.”
“I’ll tell you what it is, old son. It’s a whole ton of solid gold, and they want to just plump it down in your lap.” The old man’s eyes sparkled like those of someone half his age. “That’s the sound of free publicity out there, and a sweeter song they couldn’t be singing.”
Kirsten walked over, said, “You want to give it all to Logan Kendall?”
“Exactly!” Charlie patted his back, urging him forward. “Listen to the lady, son.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he confessed.
She joined her hand to his, and said, “Tell them what’s on your heart.”
“You got a smart one here,” Charlie agreed, opening the door, then turning back to wink at her. “Believe I’d hold on to the lady if I could.”
“ALL RISE.” The judge swept in and seated herself. The jury paraded in and took their seats. Marcus felt the tension in the courtroom tighten around his chest like a titanium band.
Judge Nicols observed them solemnly, then asked, “Has the jury reached a verdict?”
“We have, Your Honor.”
Marcus glanced at his watch, then the wall clock, saw Charlie do the same. Ninety minutes from the jury’s departure to their return. A bad sign. Very bad. Civil-trial juries tended to bring back swift verdicts only when they found against the plaintiff. Discussions about punitive damages alone took hours, sometimes days. Not a good sign at all.
“Very well.” Judge Nicols pointed the bailiff toward the slip of paper offered by the jury foreman. She accepted it, unfolded the sheet, read it carefully, shook her head once, handed it back. “The foreman may read the verdict.”
The rawboned man held the sheet awkwardly and said, “We find for the plaintiff on all counts.”
The court breathed a single sigh, one cut off by the sound of a man’s broken sob. The foreman stopped and looked down to where Austin was held by his wife. The foreman’s face was clenched up tight as a fist.
Judge Nicols finally said, “Proceed to damages, if you please, sir.”
“Yes ma’am.” He glanced down at the paper, but did not seem to recognize his own writing. So he looked up and said, “We could never punish them like we’d want, so we decided the two of them ought both to make an atoning tithe.”
She shook her head. “Just the damages, please.”
“Yes ma’am.” He rattled the sheet, cleared his throat, and said, “In the matter of actual damages, we find for the plaintiff in the sum of one hundred thousand dollars, such amount to be shared equally by the defendants.”
Austin drew himself up with a shaky breath, wiped his face with an impatient hand. Not wanting to miss any of it, not an instant.
“As to punitive damages,” the foreman glanced over at the defense, a spark rising from somewhere down deep, touching the edges of his voice and his features. “We find for the plaintiff and against New Horizons in the sum of one hundred and eighty million dollars.”
The courtroom’s collective gasp took wings and started to fly, but was hammered down to earth by Judge Nicols. The only sound at the defense table came from Suzie Rikkers, who wheezed a cry as hoarse as a wounded gull.
The foreman’s gaze lingered on the general until Judge Nicols said, “Proceed.”
“We find against the general and the Chinese government, and hold them to punitive damages of eight billion dollars.”
In the stunned silence that followed, two sounds etched themselves deep in Marcus’ memory. One was the whoosh of escaped breath as Logan took the news like a fist driven into his sternum.
The other sound was of Suzie Rikkers coming completely and utterly undone. “No!” The shriek hurled her from her seat. She tried to ram her way to the left, but James Southerland sat sprawled as if he had taken three bullets to the gut. She shrilled, “You can’t do this!”
Frantically she clawed her way past Logan, desperate to escape. When he did not move fast enough, Suzie Rikkers hiked up her skirt and began crawling over the railing. “This is my case!”
Judge Nicols clapped one hand over her mouth and leaned back in her chair as Suzie Rikkers fell into the aisle. She came up with clothes and hair awry, her fists swinging at empty air. “I won this case! It’s mine!”
Judge Nicols lowered her hand and revealed her smirk long enough to say simply, “Bailiff, remove this woman.”
Suzie Rikkers seemed utterly unaware of the hands that gripped her or the rising tumult that marked her passage. Marcus waited until she had been dragged screaming from the room to turn back to the defense table. Logan Kendall had not moved.
Judge Nicols stood and pointed to the first row of viewers. Marcus turned only because her outstretched arm demanded it. Three gray-suited men rose to their feet and moved to the bar, the wooden gate behind which the public was required to remain. Through the buzzing confusion in his mind Marcus thought that two of the men seemed vaguely familiar.
Judge Nicols did not keep him in suspense. “Two of these men are FBI agents, the other is the district attorney. While the jury was out I met with the DA and the agents, and I have agreed that they should proceed with criminal charges against James Southerland and General Zhao Ren-Fan. A warrant has also been issued for the arrest of Randall Walker. Later this day further warrants will be issued for the entire New Horizons board of directors. They are to be arrested, formally charged, and criminally prosecuted for the kidnapping of Gloria Hall.”
The New Horizons chairman remained slumped motionless in his chair. The general tried to make a break for it, leaping over the defense table. The agents and the bailiff moved together and wrestled him to the floor. As they handcuffed him, the general was shouting that they could not do this, and ordering the defense attorney to get him out.
But Logan was still recovering from his body slam, and could only stutter, “General Zhao is covered by diplomatic immunity.”
Judge Nicols refused even to look his way. Instead, she remained raptly intent upon watching the general be hauled away. “He is nonetheless charged. These gentlemen will be granted a formal hearing in three days, at which time diplomatic immunity may be invoked for the general.” She watched as the agents lifted James Southerland to his feet and cuffed him. She offered the New Horizons CEO the same grim smile she had granted the general, and said, “Until that time, the gentlemen are invited to be guests of our fair state.”
FORTY-NINE
MARCUS STEPPED onto the brick portico and rang the doorbell. The night was crisp enough to hold a winter’s silence, so quiet he could hear the measured tread of someone walking to the door. Gladys Nicols looked through the narrow side window and showed no surprise at his presence. Instead she opened the door and said merely, “You had me worried for a time there, Marcus.”
“Me too. May I come in?”
“Of course.” She opened the door and said, “Can I get you something, a coffee?”
“No thanks.” He stopped at t
he sight of two teenagers standing midway down the front hall, a young man of perhaps sixteen and a girl a year or so older.
The young man said, “You did great in there, Mr. Glenwood.”
“Yeah,” the girl added. “Momma won’t let us say anything about a trial, but we were rooting for you all along.”
“Thank you.”
“Come on in here, Marcus.” Gladys Nicols led him into her study and slid the doors shut behind them. “Have a seat there by the fire.”
She waited until they had both settled and taken a long look at the fire before asking, “Did you catch the evening news?”
“I missed it on purpose.”
“You looked just fine.” She gave him the tiniest of smiles. “And my, but you sounded eloquent.”
Marcus did not know what to say to that, so he made do with a careful inspection of the flames.
“The press is calling it the ‘shoestring defense.’ I like that. It holds a certain ring.” When he did not respond, she went on, “The Chinese government has recalled its ambassador and declared the verdict to be an act of war. I have declined three invitations so far to travel up to Washington, each one coming from a higher authority. They can’t threaten a federal judge for doing her job, but they most certainly can try.”
“I’m sorry to have caused you all this trouble.”
“Do I look bothered to you?” She snagged a footstool with the toe of her shoe and drew it toward her. Once she had stretched out her legs and settled more deeply into the chair opposite him, she continued, “Let’s see, what else did the newscasters say? Three of New Horizons’ top sports stars have already declared they are breaking their endorsement contracts. Randall Walker was caught trying to board a plane to London using a false passport. And the State Department is lodging an official complaint against the ruling.”
The Great Divide Page 42