Law and Vengeance

by Mike Papantonio

  “Ah,” said Cara. “That’s sweet. What about me?”

  “I didn’t think you had a boyfriend,” said Gina. “And besides, you and Rachel will be flying home as planned.”

  “Who needs a boyfriend?” said Cara. “I was going to order the flowers for me.”

  Bennie, Ned, and Gina were on their way back to the same hotel they’d just checked out of that morning, when Gina received her second phone call relating to Arbalest. “This is Angela King calling from the Department of Justice on behalf of Assistant United States Attorney Eva Trench,” a woman said. “AUSA Trench would like to know if Gina Romano is available to talk.”

  Eerie, thought Gina. First, the call from the offices of the Seventh District Judge, and now the Department of Justice was calling.

  “This is Gina, and I am available to talk now.”

  A moment later, Trench was on the line. Her Brooklyn accent was as thick as Gina had been told.

  “Ms. Romano, this is AUSA Trench. Thank you for taking my call.”

  “My pleasure,” said Gina.

  “I understand you have been upsetting the Arbalest applecart these past two days,” said Trench.

  Justice seemed to be unusually well-informed, thought Gina. “I’m glad to hear you’re paying attention,” she said, “even if it does seem belated.”

  “Oh, we’ve always believed the case had possibilities,” said Trench, with more than a touch of defensiveness.

  “That’s news to me,” said Gina. “We have a few more depos ahead of us that you’re welcome to sit in on. That should really convince you that our case has . . . what did you call it . . . ‘possibilities?’”

  “Before I do that,” said Trench, “why don’t the two of us have a talk? What are you doing tomorrow afternoon at two?”

  It was perfect timing, thought Gina. The flight from Chicago to Washington, DC, would take about two hours. If the Bergman-Deketomis company plane was available, it might even take less.

  “It just so happens I’m staying over in Chicago tonight,” said Gina, “and should be able to make it to DC by two.”

  “Who would have known?”

  You, Gina wanted to say, but didn’t.

  There was a men’s clothing shop off the lobby in their hotel and Ned went to pick up a new dress shirt, socks, and underclothing. Gina always overpacked with “just in case” clothes and didn’t need to get a new outfit.

  Bennie and Gina went ahead while Ned shopped. On the drive over, Bennie had once more arranged to have a connecting room with her.

  “I hope you don’t mind room service again, Bennie,” she said.

  “Mind?” he said. “Last night, I had shrimp scampi and filet mignon. Guess what I’m having tonight?”

  “I’m thinking surf and turf again.”

  “You got it,” he said. “When you know what you want, just call me with your order.”

  “You don’t have to be my taster, Bennie.”

  “I probably should taste your food,” he said. “Let’s not forget we’re in Chicago, home of Officer Thursby and Boss Lutz. The sooner we get out of here, the happier I’ll be. But in the meantime my job is to make sure you continue breathing properly.”

  “Thanks, Bennie.”

  For the second night in a row, Bennie checked Gina’s room. By the time he finished, she had her order ready.

  “You can call in our orders whenever you’re hungry, Bennie,” she said. “All I want is a bowl of the clam chowder and a Caesar salad.”

  “That’s all?”

  “I’m not that hungry.”

  “You’ve been losing weight,” he said.

  “I doubt it,” Gina said, although she had noticed her clothes weren’t as tight.

  “Why don’t you have one of those molten lava cakes?”

  “It sounds like something you can personally recommend.”

  “It was delicious,” Bennie admitted.

  “Okay,” laughed Gina. “I’ll have a molten lava cake as well.”

  “À la mode?” he asked. “Vanilla ice cream goes perfectly with it.”

  Gina raised her arms and surrendered. “Okay,” she said, “with vanilla ice cream.”

  Bennie knocked on the connecting door before he opened it and delivered Gina her food. During the time the door between their rooms was open, she was treated to the aroma of Bennie’s shrimp and steak. The scent made her remember the meal she’d had with Peter and Bryan at the Blue Planet.

  She abruptly terminated her stroll down memory lane. Gina couldn’t afford that distraction. Tomorrow she needed to be at the top of her game.

  It wasn’t easy to put aside her feelings, but she’d had a whole lifetime of training doing just that. And even though she was now less hungry than she had been before, she was afraid Bennie might take notice of what she had or had not eaten. Because of that, Gina ate everything on her tray.

  Later, she would wonder if the molten lava cake was as good as Bennie said it was. Even though Gina ate all of it, she couldn’t recall its taste.

  In Judge Sanders’ chambers the next morning, Charles Zimmer was the sole representative from his firm. It felt odd, thought Gina, to not be facing down a throng of lawyers. Zimmer knew the time for showmanship and bluster had passed. Now he was holding out all his hopes on this ruling. Keeping Knapp out of the hot seat was the best possible outcome he could hope for.

  In the privacy of her chambers, Judge Sanders had replaced her black robes for the comfort of a pantsuit the color of robin’s-egg blue. Many judges maintained legal formalities even in their chambers. It was Gina’s experience that the less confident judges filled their chambers with law books and legal trappings. Judge Sanders had pictures of her children and grandchildren. The artwork of her grandchildren could be seen in various spots around the room.

  The judge spoke calmly. She had written out her decision, but didn’t refer to her notes. Instead, she began explaining her decision in a way a lawyer might talk to a jury rather than a judge talking to lawyers in chambers. It was clear she had struggled with her decision and had an appreciation for how important it was. “Today,” she said, “one party will leave unhappy. That can’t be helped.

  “As lawyers, we have all used depictions of Lady Justice’s images to make our point with juries. We’ve all heard the argument about how her left hand holds a set of scales. It is upon these scales that she must weigh the merits of the case. When a case like yours is brought before me, I can’t help but imagine those scales. I consider the merits of your arguments and the weight they carry, and I put that weight on the scale item by item. Sometimes the scales easily tilt one way; sometimes there is a stasis, with the smallest of separations in the weight. This was one of those slight tilts.”

  The judge took off her glasses and with a cloth cleaned them. “I did my weighing, and although I sometimes worry about abusive discovery gone wild, I don’t see that here. In this case, I have concluded that Arbalest owner and CEO Tim Knapp must comply with discovery and disclose those documents that have been requested. I will carefully examine all of the documents Mr. Knapp will be questioned about and will disallow any of them if I find national security interests, or trade secrets, need protection.

  “In addition to complying with discovery requests served on Mr. Knapp, he will also be required to make himself available to be deposed by the plaintiff’s attorneys. The contents of that deposition will be sealed until I have had the time to carry out an incamera review. Ms. Romano, please draw up that order and forward it to me for my approval.”

  In the world of legal jargon, what had just happened to Madsen-Zimmer and Arbalest was called “being burned down.” As the judge announced her decision, Zimmer’s distressed expression epitomized the embodiment of the phrase.

  As they exited the chambers, Ned hummed a triumphant refrain of the Talking Heads classic, “Burning Down the House.”

  From the courthouse lobby, with Bennie standing guard and scowling so as to discourage anyone from enteri
ng their space, Gina and Ned shared a cell phone and excitedly called Deke with the news.

  “Don’t settle cheap,” said Deke, “and don’t settle easy.”

  “We’re going to see Eva Trench now,” Gina said.

  “That will give Madsen-Zimmer and Arbalest time to sweat,” Ned said.

  “Give my congratulations all around!” said Deke.

  After the call, Ned could be seen looking all around. “What are you looking for?” Gina asked.

  “Somewhere,” Ned said, “not too far from here, I imagine Charles Zimmer is on the phone with Quentin Carter or maybe even Tim Knapp. I can’t imagine they’re having a pleasant conversation.”

  “We have a plane to catch,” said Gina.

  Bennie led interference for them, walking just ahead of the two. He made a short call to the driver as they walked. “We’re on our way.”

  Out front a driver was waiting for them. As they were getting into the car Gina’s phone rang. “Guess who?” she asked Ned.

  “Could it be Charles Zimmer?”

  Gina sent the call to her voice mail. “Let him sweat for awhile.”

  32

  LADY JUSTICE AND THE FAT LADY

  Gina returned Zimmer’s call as they were being driven to the airport.

  “You haven’t left the courthouse already, have you, Ms. Romano?”

  “As a matter of fact I have, Mr. Zimmer. We have a big depo to get ready for, don’t we?”

  “Is there any way you can turn that car of yours around?” he asked. “I think if the two of us put our heads together, we could come to a possible resolution in our little dispute.”

  “If you consider our dispute little,” said Gina, “then I doubt we have anything to talk about.”

  “What I meant to convey is that I don’t think our differences are insurmountable.”

  The subtext of what Zimmer was saying was that he’d talked to Knapp and was told to settle the case. Gina knew Knapp was afraid to go into a deposition not knowing what cards she was holding, and if he perjured himself in this particular case he would likely spend time in jail—his tailored Brioni suit and one-percenter status notwithstanding. It was even possible he might be blackballed by the Lake Geneva Country Club set.

  “I’m not ready to talk numbers with you,” she said, “seeing as my information is incomplete.”

  “We won’t try and shortchange you on the numbers,” Zimmer said. “We’ll use tried-and-true formularies and come up with a settlement you think is fair.”

  “That’s not the information I’m talking about,” said Gina. “My colleague, Angus Moore, was murdered. Our investigators are trying to determine whether Arbalest knew anything at all about that murder. I need to hear from Mr. Knapp that no one from Arbalest was in any way involved. Obviously, that is a conversation you probably want to have in private rather than in open court.”

  “Even though I am only the messenger in all of this,” said Zimmer, “I want you to know that you have my complete attention, Ms. Romano. As soon as we finish talking, I will call Mr. Knapp and tell him everything you’ve said. I think it would be extremely beneficial for the two of you to have a face-to-face. If you turn your car around, I could arrange that meeting as early as this afternoon.”

  “That won’t work for me,” said Gina. “I have a two o’clock meeting with the Department of Justice. Ms. Trench apparently has something she wants to talk about.”

  “Shit,” said Zimmer, not even trying to hide his unhappiness. “You know that once the feds get involved, any settlement becomes virtually impossible.”

  “I think we can assume their involvement is a done deal,” said Gina, “but if Arbalest is willing to fully cooperate, I can minimize the Fed’s involvement to little more than purely money interests.”

  “I can assure you that my client wants to satisfy all your concerns,” he said, “as well as conclude a settlement as soon as possible. Would you consider flying back to Chicago for a dinner meeting tonight?”

  “No,” said Gina. “I will be flying home tonight. However, if you and Mr. Knapp want to fly to DC today, I’d be glad to talk to the two of you over a late afternoon cup of coffee.”

  “I’d like co-counsel along,” said Zimmer. “And I am sure Mr. Knapp would want his longtime family counselor, Quentin Carter.”

  “That’s fine with me as long as your co-counsel isn’t Zack Templeton,” said Gina. “He needs to have his midlife crisis on his own time, not mine. I’m pretty sure Tim Knapp would understand how unprofessional it was for you to bring in Templeton. The truth is by doing that it ended up making it that much more difficult for us to be civil towards you. Don’t you agree?”

  “I apologize, Ms. Romano,” said Zimmer. “In retrospect I can see our efforts were misguided. Mr. Templeton will stay home. Will four-thirty work for you?”

  “We’ll confirm the time and place in the next hour,” said Gina.

  This wasn’t Gina’s first time visiting the Department of Justice, but she had never been summoned by an AUSA on such short notice. As ironic as it might seem, Trench and Justice now needed to be involved in the approval of any settlement, despite the fact that months earlier she had said the DOJ didn’t want to handle the “loser” case. Such bureaucratic regulations defied logic, but Gina would deal with them. Angus had wanted Gina to “handle” Trench; this was her chance to do exactly that for him.

  Surprisingly, it was Ned who brought that up during their flight. “All along,” he said, “Angus wanted you to deal with Trench. He told me he was going to try to get you on board with the case. He also said you should have been working with us from the first. I don’t know why he didn’t approach you.”

  Gina did know why, but would never tell.

  “Anyway,” said Ned, “I’m thinking you should go at Trench mano a mano.”

  “Before he died, Angus told me he wanted me to be the good cop to his bad cop against Trench,” she said,” but I don’t see that happening today.”

  Their driver let them out a block from Justice, and the three of them walked along Pennsylvania Avenue.

  “This area of city and federal buildings is called the Federal Triangle,” said Gina. “Justice is a trapezoidal lot amidst the triangle. Detractors say it should have been an octagonal shape, like a STOP sign.”

  Bennie read the wording on the building: “Robert F. Kennedy Department of Justice Building.”

  “Robert F. Kennedy was an attorney general,” said Ned.

  “I might have grown up on the res,” Bennie said, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not acquainted with Robert Kennedy and his big brother. Gran told us kids that the Kennedy brothers were the only two white men, aside from Nick Deketomis, who ever gave a damn about people like her.”

  “I wonder what the Kennedy brothers would think of how justice works in this country now,” said Gina.

  Before entering the grounds, the three of them walked around like tourists, looking at the neoclassical building with its art deco elements and ten-foot marble statues.

  Finally, Gina looked at her watch and said, “I guess I better go through security.”

  “Typical overachiever “A” student,” said Ned. “You always have to be early.”

  The two men hugged her goodbye. Bennie refused to leave until he saw Gina pass through screening and processing and enter the building.

  As Gina passed beyond the security checkpoint, a young African-American woman approached her. “Ms. Romano,” she said, “I’m Haley. AUSA Trench asked me to escort you to her office.”

  “Are you an intern?” asked Gina.

  “I am,” said Haley.

  “Where are you going to school?”

  “Delaware State University,” she said. “I’ll bet you never heard of it.”

  “I haven’t,” admitted Gina.

  “Go Hornets,” Haley said. “It’s a good college and had a tuition I could afford.”

  “I went to law school at Rutgers,” said Gina, “another state s
chool.”

  “And now you’re a lawyer?”

  Nodding, she said, “I work for one of the best law firms in the country. So if you don’t get into an Ivy League law school, that doesn’t mean it’s the end of the road for you.”

  “That’s good to know, especially since just about everyone working here came out of some Ivy school. What kind of law do you practice?”

  “I’m a trial lawyer,” said Gina. “Usually, I am involved in mass torts. But last year I defended my boss in a murder trial.”

  “No way!”

  “Way,” she said and smiled.

  “That’s cool,” said Haley. “By the way, I can play tour guide if you want. They made me learn a lot of things about this building.”

  “Where are we standing now?” asked Gina, looking up at the high expanse.

  “It’s called the Grand Hall,” said Haley.

  “Since we have a little time to kill,” said Gina, “take me on the scenic route.”

  Haley did as asked, pointing out mosaics, limestone figures, murals, and art deco plaster reliefs. The two of them stopped to admire one particular statue.

  “Hello beautiful,” said Gina, speaking to the artwork. Then she turned to Haley and said, “Just this morning, I was in chambers with a circuit court judge who talked about Lady Justice.”

  “She’s called the ‘Spirit of Justice,’” Haley said. “She was made out of cast aluminum in the thirties, which explains some of her art deco elements.”

  “She’s not wearing a blindfold,” observed Gina.

  “Most people notice she’s not wearing much else either,” Haley said, referring to how the young woman’s toga had slipped off her shoulder, revealing one of her breasts.

  “You’re probably too young to have ever heard about the great cover-up,” said Gina.

  “What’s that?”

  “No one ever seemed to think anything about the Spirit of Justice’s state of undress,” said Gina, “that is until 2002 when the office of US Attorney General Tom Ashcroft arranged for drapes to cover her up.”