Mrs. Lim: Don’t you dare quote me! I have never seen such a blatant prejudice and such underhanded exploitation and maneuvering in my life, and I see plenty of it in my business! You go too far!
Kevin: Break time! We’re out of coffee. Now, that’s unconscionable. I’m getting the bailiff.
They break.
Cliff: First I want to apologize if I got a little overheated in my arguments. You put your faith in me as a leader, and I take that duty seriously, so seriously, I may go a little overboard in trying to help us get closer to a verdict.
Courtney: But Cliff, it’s getting obvious the only verdict you want from us is against Lindy.
Cliff: I never meant to give that impression. If the majority had gone for Lindy, I would accept that. It’s just that after airing our views, we seem to be going the other way.
Bob: There is one point I’d like further discussion about. That’s Ignacio’s view that Lindy and Mike were married because they stepped inside a church once and made some promises to each other.
The point I’d like to make is this: our country is founded on the notion of a separation between church and state. That was so people could practice religion as they pleased, but the state could develop its own set of rules aimed at the common good.
Ignacio, is it right for you to base your decision in this case on your religious beliefs? This is a case brought before the state. Shouldn’t state law be our guide?
Ignacio: (heavy sigh) That is something to think about.
Cliff: Of course, you have to feel good in your conscience about how you vote. But look at it this way, you can believe they were married, without necessarily voting to give Lindy anything.
Ignacio: What do you mean?
Cliff: Well, you say they were married in the eyes of God. But we all agree they weren’t married according to the laws of this state. Logically, then, when it comes time for them to split up, the state’s usual community property laws should not apply.
Mrs. Lim: But this analysis is incorrect. If he believes they agreed to marriage, then he must realize they assumed certain obligations under that agreement, mutually agreed-upon obligations. Remember, if there’s a contract, and Ignacio is saying he believes there was from that moment, the judge said we can infer its existence and terms from the conduct of the parties. They certainly acted married. Why shouldn’t they be held to the normal terms of that contract?
Cliff: Mrs. Lim, there was no written agreement, and—
Mrs. Lim: There’s one interpretation for marriage, whether it happened under the eyes of God or in the eyes of the State of California.
Cliff: A case could be made that she read much more into that moment than he ever intended.
Mrs. Lim: He introduced her as his wife!
Cliff: And how can we know his intention, except as he explained it in court? He did it to please her. There was no hidden understanding that they were married. Why else would she say she was ashamed not to be married? She knew they weren’t! So did he!
Diane: (screams)
Courtney: Diane! What is it?
Bob: What’s the matter with her?
Kevin: Someone shut that crazy woman up!
The door opens.
Deputy Kimura: Everything okay in here? I thought I heard something.
Diane: Everything’s fine. I just had a . . . nightmare.
Deputy: A nightmare? Um. Do we need a doctor?
Cliff: No, no. I think the lady was just trying to make a point. A loud one.
Deputy: Is that so?
Diane: Yeah, I’m okay now.
Deputy: If you’re sure . . .
Door closes.
Cliff: And now I guess you’ll insist on telling us all about why you just about scared everybody to death.
Diane: It was a symbolic gesture of my despair, Cliff. Nobody can follow the fancies you call logic, and you don’t care anyway. You’re just going to keep us here listening to your fascinating mind games until we’re all hypnotized and vote however you want.
Courtney: (giggling) I wish I had screamed. I sure felt like it.
Cliff: Don’t you guys think there should be a requirement that people on juries be mature and intelligent enough so they can follow along with the rest of the grown-ups?
Courtney: Why, you . . . I’m in college you know.
Cliff: Yes, that gives me pause. I had heard that any fool could get into college these days.
Courtney: No wonder your wife left you.
Sonny: (shouts) Everybody just shut the fuck up!
Silence. The clock on the wall ticks.
Bob: What do you know? He can talk!
Sonny: You want to hear more?
Bob: Not really.
Cliff: I think maybe it’s time for a vote. What do you think, Ignacio. Did we get through that issue of yours okay?
Ignacio: Yes, I’ve given it a lot of thought.
They vote. It is eight to four against Lindy.
Courtney: Ignacio, you didn’t!
Ignacio: I’m sorry, Courtney. But I wasn’t voting the law before. I was voting my beliefs.
Courtney: If you can’t stick to your beliefs here, when can you?
Cliff: Well, let’s see. That leaves Diane, Mrs. Lim, Courtney, and, I presume, Mr. Ball, still for Lindy. I think it’s about time we heard something about your views on the matter, Mr. Ball.
Sonny: Sonny.
Cliff: Sure. Sonny.
Sonny: I’m on her side.
Cliff: (after a pause) And?
Sonny: That’s it.
Cliff: Well, can you tell us why?
Diane: He needs to know your reasoning, Sonny, so that he can substitute his reasoning. . . .
Sonny: C’mon. All that dough. She was loyal. Never fucked around on him. If he’s any kind of man at all, he’s got to be fair to her.
Cliff: How would you feel if I told you she did fuck around? She lied up there. We’ve proven that.
Sonny: How do you know?
Cliff: That’s it, isn’t it? We don’t. How can we hand over this man’s hard earned money to a woman that might not even have been faithful to him? Probably wasn’t, in fact.
Diane: There’s absolutely no proof of that. Not one thing was said . . . .
Cliff: My feeling is, and I think most of the guys here will agree, this whole deal is about revenge. He has a new girlfriend. He’s moving on. Why is the law involved in this at all?
Sonny: Now there’s a good question.
Cliff: Why should she get one thin dime?
Diane: Cliff, the only compensation available in this case is financial. We’re just deciding the facts and evidence. Such as, did they have a contract—
Cliff: She’s a liar and quite likely a cheat. I mean, did you see him up there? He’s much older than her. Looks like a little roll in the hay’s going to take some doing.
Mrs. Lim: You are shameless, Mr. Wright.
Diane: I really think—
Cliff: I believe I was talking to Sonny. Please have the courtesy to let me finish. So, here she is stuck with him. She probably had some on the side. You almost can’t hold that against her. But then, he found out and left her, and then she went whoops, there goes my meal ticket.
Does she try to work it out with him? No, she runs off and hires a lawyer, gets the law involved.
Diane: Cliff, why you talk with the passion of a man with firsthand experience.
Cliff: Now, Sonny, was that right? I mean, who wants to get mixed up with the law? Who needs that involvement?
Sonny: Nobody. That’s for damn sure.
Cliff: You’ll forgive me for asking, but, who makes the financial decisions in your family?
Sonny: Who do you think?
Cliff: You, of course. And why is that?
Sonny: Any big decisions, I make.
Cliff: You remind me so much of Mike Markov. Obviously, you don’t look alike. He’s kind of a ruin, now. But once he was a strong man like you, Sonny. A boxer. He’s an old-fashioned guy. He makes the
big decisions, because he knows he’s the right man for the job. Do you remember in court when he promised to take care of Lindy Markov? He said he would. And nothing in his past suggests otherwise. I mean, they live in a huge mansion that he’s paid for for all these years.
Diane: With profits from the company they both own.
Cliff: Maybe he knows something we don’t. Maybe he knows how she fritters money away on clothes and new cars. Maybe she gambles. Maybe he has very good reasons for wanting to keep control of his business, because he’s terrified she’ll run it straight into the ground!
Mrs. Lim: I must protest. These are speculations about issues that were never even mentioned in court. Maybe she is a financial wizard! We don’t know.
Sonny: Enough. I want to vote.
Diane: Wait a minute. I have this terrible feeling about you, Sonny.
Sonny: Thanks.
Diane: You’re going to change your vote just to get this over with, aren’t you?
Sonny: (doesn’t answer)
Diane: Remember in the judge’s instructions? You are not supposed to decide a certain way just because other jurors favor that decision and certainly not because this jerk is trying to pull the wool over your eyes.
Sonny: Nobody is pulling any wool anywhere.
Courtney: You’ve stuck with Lindy all along. You know she deserves some of that money.
Sonny: Let’s vote.
But the bailiff knocks. The lunch is out in the hall. Does anyone want a quick trip outside before they settle down to eat? Kris and Cliff grab their cigarettes and go, followed by a bailiff. Others hit the bathroom.
After they all come back, Cliff gets his special dish, marked vegetarian, and asks for opinions on the food. Suddenly, he makes gagging sounds.
Kevin: Slow down, there, pal. You choking? Anybody know the Heimlich maneuver?
Courtney: I do!
Bob: Sonny, help me get him standing.
Courtney tries.
Courtney: It’s not helping! I don’t think he’s choking on anything.
Kevin: Maybe he’s having a heart attack!
(Cliff’s gasping and knocking things off the table.)
Cliff: (He’s talking so softly, in the commotion no one seems to hear him.) My jacket! Get my jacket! Let go of me!
Mrs. Lim: Sonny, try to sit him up. Don’t let him fall on the floor like that.
Courtney: Do you think he wants his jacket? It’s probably in the anteroom.
Bob: That can’t be right, or he’s out of his mind. It must be eighty degrees in here.
Mrs. Lim: Deputy Kimura! Get in here!
Cliff: (This is unintelligible.) The epi kit!
Kevin: He’s trying to say something.
Mrs. Lim: What is it, Cliff? What do you want us to do?
Alternate juror Damien Peck must be trying to run for help. He runs into the bailiff.
Deputy Kimura: Stay right here, please. Don’t leave, anyone.
Shouting for an ambulance, he leaves.
Diane: He can’t breathe! Here, you guys. Get him on the table. He needs CPR.
She works on him until Deputy Kimura returns and takes over. There’s very little going on except the sound of the deputy giving CPR. A woman is crying.
Mrs. Lim: Deputy Kimura, they’re here. We should get out of the way.
Frank: Look at him. He’s really swelling up. Looks just like a swarm of bees went after him.
Courtney: We can’t do anything more. Come on, Diane, move over.
Technician: His heart . . . Get these people out of here.
Footsteps as they scurry away.
Sonny: (leaving) Fight till the last gasp, dude.
Court personnel are ushering people out of the room so that emergency people can come in.
>Click<
Thursday after lunch, the court called. Nina’s presence was requested at two.
“Do they have a question for the judge? Do they want some of the testimony reread?”
“No. I believe the judge needs to seat an alternate,” said the clerk.
“What happened?”
“Just come on down, Nina. I believe the judge would prefer to explain.”
Ringing Winston and Genevieve in their hotel rooms, where they actually were for once, Nina drove over to the courthouse with minutes to spare. She linked up with her team outside, and as a group they pushed past the curious reporters stationed outside the doors.
“What’s going on?” Winston demanded, but Nina just shrugged. He looked like hell, just like the rest of them. Jeff Riesner caught up with them in the hall. His sallow face and the bags under his eyes showed he wasn’t sleeping either.
“A verdict?”
“We’ll know in a minute.”
28
“Be seated,” announced the clerk.
They sat while the jury filed in. Nina searched their faces. But . . . where was Clifford Wright? There were only thirteen. Judging from their troubled expressions, something major had happened.
Looking grave, Milne took the bench. “Sorry to call you all out in such haste. There has been an unfortunate event in connection with the deliberations. Apparently Mr. Wright, one of our jurors, has had an allergic reaction to something he ate. He has had to be admitted to Boulder Hospital.
“It appears unlikely that he will be released in time to resume his work on the jury. Therefore, I must seat alternate juror number thirteen. At this time, we ask if there is any objection to the seating of the alternate. Order! Order! You people in the back, be quiet or you’ll be outside.”
“Just a moment, Your Honor,” Nina said. She tore open her juror file and Winston looked over her shoulder. Genevieve was looking at her own notes.
“Patti Zobel,” Genevieve whispered. “Divorced, in her forties, works for a resort time-share company. Her husband was having an affair. Fantastic. Don’t look happy. The jury won’t like it.”
“We’re sorry to hear this, Your Honor,” Nina said. “We have no objection to the substitution.”
Riesner looked stunned. He conferred with Rebecca in urgent whispers. Finally he said, “We would request a recess of a day to monitor Mr. Wright’s progress, Your Honor. Perhaps it’s just an upset stomach, and he can resume tomorrow. Let’s not be too hasty here.”
The phone rang at Deputy Kimura’s desk. Still standing and watching the crowd sternly, he picked up the receiver and listened. In a moment he made a sign to the clerk and began writing down something. The clerk made a sign to Milne, who said, “We will take a five minute recess. The jury will remain seated.” He left the bench in a flurry of robes. The deputy and his clerk followed him.
The legal affairs reporter from the San Francisco Chronicle, who had arrived late in the trial, came up to Nina right away and asked, “Who’s the alternate?” Nina gave him the name but little else. Patti Zobel, a plain woman in a running suit with frizzy hair, sitting in her spot with the other jurors, was trying to look calm but was obviously very excited. She had spent weeks as an understudy and had just been given a leading role.
Five minutes passed. Nina glanced at Patti Zobel. Patti Zobel looked back at her. Did she have a hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth? Could she be trying to say, I’m on your side? Nina looked away, afraid one of the other jurors would notice, intoxicated with hope.
Milne came back, his face long, and a hush fell over the courtroom.
“I regret to advise you that juror number six, Mr. Clifford Wright, passed away a few minutes ago at Boulder Hospital,” he said.
Gasps and stifled cries came from the jurors. Kris Schmidt buried her face in her hands. Nina and Winston looked at each other in astonishment. Genevieve scribbled a note. Hot dog! it said.
Milne seemed genuinely sad. “I have never had a juror die during a trial, and I have been a judge for seventeen years,” he went on. “I and the other court personnel would like to express our deep sympathy to Mr. Wright’s family and friends, and to express our appreciation for the work he has do
ne in this case.”
He turned to the jury. “While I appreciate the sadness that you must feel, having worked very closely with Mr. Wright over the past weeks, I must ask you to return to your task. I believe Mr. Wright would have wanted you to do that.”
Riesner asked to approach the bench, and Nina went up there with him. Out of the hearing of the jury, Riesner said, “I move for a mistrial. This jury can’t carry on. It’s one thing to replace a sick juror, but this is too traumatic. They can’t be asked to calmly consider the evidence—”
Milne was nodding. “I agree to some extent,” he said. “This can’t be easy for the rest of them.”
“It’s not easy,” Nina said, “but look at the time and resources that have gone into this trial. The jury should be allowed to reach a verdict. The whole reason for the alternate juror system is to handle just this kind of situation, to save the work that’s been done. Please, Your Honor. Consider the judicial resources already expended. The parties, the attorneys—having to go through all this again is too—too awful to contemplate.”
Milne waved away Riesner’s next attempt to talk, and the lawyers stood there and waited while he thought. At last he said, “I would like to poll the jurors individually in my chambers to see if they feel able to continue. How does that sound?”
Nina nodded, but Riesner said, “No. It doesn’t matter what they say. I request a mistrial.”
“I’ll take that request under submission and meanwhile talk to the jury members,” Milne said. “All right, let’s do it.”
Another recess. The jurors returned to the jury room, waiting for their turn to be called in to see the judge. The lawyers fortified themselves with more caffeine downstairs. The reporters talked excitedly among themselves. Lindy went outside for a quick walk.
An hour passed, the most agonizing hour yet. While they drank coffee, Milne’s clerk, Edith, came down and Genevieve tried to get some more information. When she came back to the table, she said, “Wow. Trouble here in River City. Edith says the doc at the hospital is pretty sure Cliff was allergic to something he ate off the lunch tray provided by the court. They ate Chinese. The rest of the jury must be shook all to pieces.”
“If he told the court he was severely allergic to something and they let it be served to him anyway, his family’s got a lawsuit I would love to handle,” said Winston.
BREACH OF PROMISE Page 30