[2013] Consequential Damages

by Joseph Hayes

  “Objection!” Rick’s voice boomed, cutting Mickey off in mid-sentence.

  Judge Gray turned toward Mickey and said sternly, “Mr. Quinn, please take your seat. I will not tolerate personal attacks in this courtroom. Just answer the questions your attorney is asking.”

  Mickey sat down, struggling to control himself. “I apologize, Your Honor.”

  Vern continued. “So, is it your testimony that Mr. Doyle’s termination had nothing to do with any sexual advances?”

  “He was terminated for the reasons I mentioned earlier. I never made any … sexual advances.” Mickey looked disgusted, and seemed to have difficulty even uttering the words.

  “Did you ever expose yourself to him, or touch him inappropriately?”

  “Absolutely not. Never.” He glared at Larry disdainfully. Larry was looking down, as he had been throughout Mickey’s testimony.

  “I have just one final question, Mr. Quinn. If you never did any of these things, why do you suppose Mr. Doyle would say you did? What motive would he have?”

  “Objection,” Rick shouted. “Calls for speculation.”

  “I’ll allow the witness to answer,” Judge Gray replied.

  “I don’t understand it,” Mickey replied sadly. “I don’t know what could be in a man’s heart to make him act that way. Revenge, I imagine. He’s angry that he lost his job. Beyond that, what motivates most people? Greed, I suppose. Like a lot of people, he must think that filing a lawsuit is a legitimate way to make money, whether you’re deserving or not.” Mickey was not looking at the jury now. He was looking down, trying to hide the tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. “This has destroyed my life. It’s a travesty,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “A travesty.”

  After breaking for lunch, Mickey returned to the witness stand. “Cross-examination, Mr. Black?” asked Judge Gray.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” said Rick, standing and approaching the witness. “I have just a few questions, Mr. Quinn.” He folded his arms and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then he looked directly at Mickey. “You testified that my client’s job performance was unsatisfactory, is that correct?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Did you ever provide any disciplinary memo, or any other type of written communication, advising him of these alleged deficiencies and what he needed to do to correct them?”

  “I had plenty of conversations with Larry about his performance, and—”

  “That wasn’t my question, Mr. Quinn. Did you provide him anything in writing?”

  “In writing? No.”

  “Is there any written documentation at all describing these alleged deficiencies, a memo to his personnel file, perhaps?”

  Mickey looked puzzled. “No, I communicate with my employees face-to-face.”

  “So there’s not a shred of written evidence to corroborate your claim that my client had performance problems?”

  “Nothing in writing, but like I said—”

  Rick cut him off. “It was a yes or no question, Mr. Quinn. You’ve answered my question. Now, let me ask you this: Were you ever alone with my client in the workplace?”

  “I don’t know—probably. I’m at the store every day, all day long. Larry worked there for over four years. I’m sure there were any number of times when we were alone together. That would not have been unusual at all.”

  “Let me be more specific. Do you ever recall being alone with Larry in your office, with the door closed?”

  “Actually, yes, now that I think about it. When I had performance issues with an employee, I dealt with them face-to-face, in the privacy of my office.”

  “So you do acknowledge being alone with Larry in your office, behind closed doors.”

  “Yes.”

  “More than once?”

  “Several times, I’m sure. Like I said, I had plenty of problems with Larry. He –”

  “On any of those occasions, did you expose your genitals to my client?”

  “I most certainly did not!”

  “Are you a homosexual, Mr. Quinn?”

  Vern stood up. “Objection.” It sounded more like a question than a forceful interjection.

  “Absolutely not!” Mickey blurted out simultaneously, before the judge could respond.

  “Withdrawn,” Rick replied. “Mr. Quinn, have you ever instructed any employee to do something unethical?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Have you ever told any employee to keep quiet about your own unethical behavior at the risk of losing their job?”

  Mickey looked irritated and confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I would never do any such thing.”

  “So you never told my client to keep quiet about your overtures to him?”

  “Certainly not. Like I said, I never made any overtures.”

  “And you never asked any other employee to keep quiet about any other type of inappropriate conduct on your part?”

  Vern looked as puzzled as Mickey. “Your Honor, I object. I don’t see the relevance, and besides, that question has already been asked and answered.”

  “He’s right, Mr. Black. Move on, please,” instructed Judge Gray.

  “I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor.”

  “Very well,” replied Judge Gray. “You may step down, Mr. Quinn. You may proceed with your next witness, Mr. Snyder.”

  “I have no further witnesses, Your Honor,” Vern replied.

  “Any rebuttal witnesses, Mr. Black?” asked the judge.

  “Yes, Your Honor. I have one rebuttal witness. We call Kenny Oliver to the stand.”

  Jake was taken by surprise. By the look of it, Vern and Mickey were surprised as well. Kenny was a current employee of Mickey’s. His primary job was stocking the shelves, but he also handled deliveries when the regular driver was off or when he needed assistance on busy days. Jake and Kenny had known each other since fifth grade, and had started working at Quinn’s about the same time. Jake had his doubts when Kenny began working at the store because he had gotten into more than his share of trouble when he was younger. It wasn’t that Kenny was a bad kid at heart, but more that he was eager to please and easily led astray by the rougher crowd—and not smart enough to avoid getting caught. Despite that history, Kenny wasn’t a bad employee. He was lazy—no question about that – and not particularly bright, but he was amiable and reasonably reliable.

  Vern spoke up in a hesitant voice. “Your Honor, this person is not on the plaintiff’s witness list, and I’d like to know what relevance his testimony will have to these proceedings.”

  Judge Gray looked at Rick. “Certainly,” Rick replied. “Mr. Quinn has testified that he has never previously engaged in inappropriate conduct and then asked an employee to conceal it. This witness will testify about behavior of exactly that nature on the part of Mr. Quinn. It shows a pattern of behavior, and therefore is highly relevant.”

  “Alright, I’ll allow it,” said the judge.

  Jake slipped a note to Vern, suggesting he ask the judge for a recess, so that he would have time to prepare. Since Kenny was not on the witness list, the judge would almost certainly be open to such a request.

  Vern showed the note to Mickey. Although they were whispering, Jake could clearly hear Mickey say, “I want to finish this—now!”

  Kenny walked ponderously to the witness stand, breathing heavily as if the walk required too much exertion. He was considerably overweight, his expansive belly hanging over his belt. He had thinning brown hair, combed over a large bald spot on the top of his head.

  Rick began with a number of routine questions about Kenny’s background, primarily his job duties and his employment history with Quinn’s Fine Foods. Mickey, Vern and Jake were all on the edge of their seats, listening intently and wondering where this was going.

  “Mr. Oliver, when was your last day of employment with Mr. Quinn’s store?” Rick asked.

  “I haven’t worked since last week, and
I don’t plan on going back.”

  “Why not?”

  Kenny looked from Rick to Mickey and back to Rick. “Because of him,” he said, looking back at Mickey.

  “Do you mean Mr. Quinn?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Would you please explain what you mean by that?”

  “He was doing things—things that weren’t right.”

  Every eye in the courtroom was riveted on Kenny Oliver.

  “What things?”

  “I have a video.”

  Rick turned to Judge Gray. “With your permission, Your Honor, I would like to show the jury Mr. Oliver’s video recording.”

  “Any objection, Mr. Snyder?”

  Vern conferred with Mickey. It was clear that neither of them had any idea what this was about. “No objection,” Vern mumbled, after Mickey again made it clear that he wanted the trial concluded quickly.

  Rick wheeled in a large TV on a black metal stand, positioning it near the jury, but on an angle so that everyone in the courtroom could see it. “Mr. Oliver, please narrate for the jury as we play this video.”

  “Okay. This is Quinn’s,” Kenny began, as the video showed the front of the store. The picture became jerky, as the cameraman walked into the store and down the first aisle.

  “Who’s filming this?” Rick asked.

  “I am.” Kenny replied, as the screen showed a typical looking grocery store aisle with canned foods on one side and cereal on the other. At the end of the aisle, was a narrow pathway that extended past a refrigeration unit containing lunchmeats and cheeses. The image stopped briefly before a swinging double door, then turned sideways into the wall as a cameraman had apparently turned and opened the door with his body rather than his hands, so that he could keep filming. The image moved past a sink and a couple of restrooms, and showed a counter along a wall with a number of tall stools under it. “This is the back room,” Kenny explained. “This is where the staff has lunch and takes their coffee breaks.” The floors were gray concrete and the walls were cinderblocks, painted a pale yellow. The image rounded a corner and moved into another room. The middle of that room was a large empty space. The camera panned to a rear door with a red exit sign hanging over it. “That’s the back door leading to the loading dock in the alley. The door next to it is the dairy cooler. The next door, right here, is the freezer, where we store the frozen food, and that little door there is Mickey’s office.” The camera moved in the direction of the office, the image bouncing as the camera moved. The camera ran continuously, with no breaks in the footage. No people were visible anywhere.

  The video then displayed the interior of the office. There were pictures of Mickey on the desk with local political figures, and the walls were adorned with plaques paying tribute to Mickey for his involvement in various civic and charitable causes. A hand could be seen moving some books off the shelf above the desk and reaching behind them to remove a shoebox. The shoebox was placed on the desk and the hand could be seen removing the lid. “This was filmed last week. I had been in the store late a few days earlier after my delivery run. I was supposed to lock up that night and I couldn’t find the keys so I began looking through the office. I found this box.”

  The camera remained fixed on the contents of the box. There were several credit cards, a few pads of blank checks, a string of pearls, a necklace, and several rings. The hand lifted up the credit cards and checks one at a time and placed them before the camera. The images went from blurry to clear as the camera automatically adjusted its focus. Kenny read the names: “Esther Hamill. Lucy Palmer. Margaret Finn.”

  “Do you know these names?” Rick asked.

  “These were delivery customers,” Kenny replied.

  “Do you know anything about the jewelry?”

  “I’ve seen Mrs. Hamill wearing pearls before. I think those might be hers. I believe that necklace and the rings are Mrs. Finn’s. Anyway, I was looking through this box, and Mickey walked in behind me. He surprised me, and I think I surprised him too.”

  “Did he say anything to you at that time?”

  “He asked me what I was doing and I told him I was looking for the keys to lock up. He grabbed the box and told me that I could go home, and that he would lock up.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Not that night. The next morning, he called me to his office and told me I shouldn’t mention that box to anyone else. He told me to keep it to myself.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “Yeah. I started to ask him why he had those things and he cut me off and said ‘Kenny, you’ve worked here a long time. I’ve been good to you. You have a good job here – don’t piss it away.’”

  “What was your reaction to that?”

  “I didn’t know what to think. At first, I thought there must be a good explanation for why he had those things, but the more I thought about it, the more nervous I got. I remembered that, more and more, he had been making deliveries himself. When people called in their orders late in the day, he would drop them off on his way home. He also asked me to try to get keys from the customers. He said I should tell them it would be convenient if they were not home or were unable to get to the door. Then when he told me to keep quiet about the box, and that I might lose my job if I didn’t, I knew something wasn’t right.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I quit. I didn’t want to be part of anything shady.”

  “By the way, did any of those delivery customers give you keys to their apartments?”

  “A few did. Most were nervous about it and wouldn’t do it.”

  “Do you remember which customers gave you keys?”

  “Mrs. Hamill and Mrs. Finn did. One or two others, but I’m not sure which ones. But those two for sure.”

  “Was there anything else that made you think something wasn’t right?”

  “I remember Mickey grumbling a lot lately about how these people owed him. He’d been delivering to them for years and losing money on it. They owed him, he kept saying.”

  Rick looked triumphant. “No further questions,” he said.

  Judge Gray looked at his watch. It was nearly five o’clock, and he rarely asked the jury to stay beyond that time. “Mr. Snyder, would you like to begin your cross-examination, or shall we pick this up tomorrow?” It was an obvious invitation to take some time to prepare for this cross-examination, since this testimony was clearly a surprise.

  “I’ll proceed now, if I may, Your Honor. This shouldn’t take long.”

  Vern paused for an uncomfortably long time, staring at his yellow legal pad, then stood up and slowly approached the witness stand. “Mr. Oliver, were there any eyewitnesses to these conversations with Mr. Quinn you just described?”

  “No, we were alone.”

  “Did Mr. Quinn explain to you why these items were in his possession?”

  “No.”

  “Did you tell anyone about these conversations immediately after they occurred—excuse me, allegedly occurred?”

  “Not at first. I didn’t want anyone to think I was mixed up with something bad. Then I ran into Larry and he told me about his case, so I told him what happened to me. Then I met with Larry’s attorney just a few days ago to talk about testifying here.”

  “Do you know for a fact how Mr. Quinn acquired the items in the box?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know for a fact that he should not have been in possession of those items?”

  “No, but why would he be holding some old ladies’ jewelry, and hiding it?”

  “Just answer the question, Mr. Oliver. The fact is that you don’t know how or why these items came to be in Mr. Quinn’s possession, isn’t that right?”

  Kenny glanced quickly at Rick, who ignored him. “That’s correct,” Kenny replied.

  Mickey had been struggling to control himself, fidgeting and shaking his head and muttering quietly to himself every time Kenny finished a response. Finally, he exploded, red-faced, rising
from his chair and pointing at Kenny.

  “Of course he doesn’t know because it never happened! This whole thing is a set- up! I’ve never laid eyes on that stuff. That man’s a liar, just like his friend!”

  “Order! Order!” shouted the judge, pounding his gavel. “Mr. Snyder, control your client! I will not tolerate any more outbursts, Mr. Quinn. You’ll have your turn to speak. Now sit down and let your lawyer do the talking!”

  Vern gently put his hand on Mickey’s shoulder and guided him back into his chair. Mickey silently fumed as Vern quietly stressed the importance of heeding the judge’s admonishment.

  “One last question. Mr. Oliver, did you plant this evidence?”

  Rick was on his feet in a flash. “Objection!” he shouted angrily.

  “I’ll allow it,” replied the judge.

  Kenny looked at Rick again, hesitating. Judge Gray looked hard at the witness. “Mr. Oliver, I have overruled the objection. Answer the question, please.”

  Kenny hesitated another moment, and then, looking offended by the question, replied, “I didn’t plant anything. It happened just like I said.”

  “I have no further questions,” Vern said.

  “Mr. Oliver, you are excused,” Judge Gray announced. “Do you have any further witnesses, Mr. Black?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  Mr. Snyder, your client may take the stand again first thing tomorrow if he wishes to respond to Mr. Oliver’s testimony. After that, we will proceed with closing arguments.”

  Rick Black strode into his office, feeling excited and confident. The day’s testimony had gone even better than he had hoped. He felt like he was back on the basketball court, leading a late game rally that was about to result in a huge upset. He loved that feeling.

  His secretary followed him into his office, handing him a handful of phone messages. “Hold all my calls,” he instructed her. “Call these people back and tell them I’m in trial. I’ll get back to them later in the week.”

  “Yes, Mr. Black. But there’s one person who insisted that you call her tonight. A Mrs. Helen Wright. She said it was urgent.”

  “I don’t know her. I’ll get back to her later in the week.”