by Joseph Hayes
“She said she has information regarding the Quinn case that you’ll want to hear.”
That got Rick’s attention. He looked at the message slip, closed his door and dialed her number. The woman who answered the phone had the rough voice of a heavy smoker. “I’m glad you called, Mr. Black. I’ve got information about Mickey Quinn—information that proves what a devious, manipulating dirtbag he is. Can we meet?”
The next morning, Rick began the proceedings by asking the judge for permission to call another rebuttal witness. This time Vern objected, and the judge summoned the two attorneys to his chambers to discuss the issue outside of the jury’s presence. “Why are we just hearing about this witness now, Mr. Black, and what is the nature of her testimony?” Judge Gray was clearly annoyed.
“I just learned of this witness late yesterday, after court had adjourned,” Rick explained. “She will testify that the defendant took advantage of an elderly relative of hers.”
“Even if true, that has no relevance to the issues in this case,” Vern protested.
“With all due respect, I disagree, Your Honor,” Rick replied. “First, the evidence has probative value because it is consistent with the testimony of Mr. Oliver, thereby lending greater credence to his story. Second, the defense has made the defendant’s character a significant part of its case, through the character witnesses it has produced. We are entitled to rebut that evidence.”
Judge Gray looked sternly at both of them. “I don’t like last-minute surprises, Mr. Black. However, I will allow this one final witness. Mr. Black is correct, Mr. Snyder, you pushed the door wide open on the issue of character and the plaintiff is entitled to rebut on that point. Mr. Black, you may proceed with your witness. After that, Mr. Snyder, you may recall your client if he wishes to respond to any testimony from this witness or from Mr. Oliver.”
Rick called Helen Wright to the stand. She appeared to be in her early fifties, but working hard not to show it. Her hair was bleached blonde, and her makeup had been applied thickly, but couldn’t cover the wrinkles around her lips and the dark circles under her eyes, which spoke of hard living.
After she was sworn in, Rick flipped on a projector and displayed a picture for the entire courtroom to see. It was a picture of an elderly woman, propped up in a hospital bed, a toothless mouth wide open, drooling, as she stared vacantly ahead. The left side of her face sagged noticeably.
“Can you identify this woman, Ms. Wright?”
“Yes, that is my aunt, Nancy Shadel.”
“How old is she?”
“Eighty-two.”
“What is the state of her health?”
“Lousy. You can probably tell from the picture that she’s suffered a stroke. That was about three months ago. Her mind is gone—completely.”
“How was her health before her stroke?”
“Not good. She had dementia. Once in a while she was lucid, but mostly she was confused and really out of it.”
“How long had she been that way?”
“Several years.”
“Do you know Mickey Quinn?”
“I know who he is.”
“What was the relationship between Mr. Quinn and your aunt?”
“He was her grocer. She bought her groceries from his store and had them delivered to her apartment. She’s been too feeble to get out and do her own shopping for a long time. I understand that he started visiting her on Sundays not long before she had her stroke.”
“What do you know about your aunt’s will?”
“I just looked into that. Since she’s had a stroke and her health is declining, I thought I should make sure that all of her affairs were in order. I found her will in a file she kept on her desk. I have it right here.” She held up a document in her right hand.
“Anything unusual about it?”
Ms. Wright glared at Mickey. “I’ll say. Since I was her only living relative, her will provided that I was to be the sole beneficiary. Then, earlier this year, she changed it. I’ve been cut out of the will completely, and she’s left everything to him.” She pointed an accusing finger at Mickey.
“Why do you think she would do that?”
“I’ll tell you why. Because he coerced her. He manipulated her. She didn’t know what she was doing—her mind was gone. Visiting her every Sunday like that, pretending to be a good neighbor—right! He had only one thing on his mind and that was to get his greedy paws on her money.” She turned to face Mickey. “You won’t get a dime from her estate, mister,” she shouted. “I’ll see to that.”
Again, Mickey looked stunned, as did Vern. Most of the jury members had the same look of disgust that had framed their faces when they listened to Larry’s testimony.
Rick walked over to the picture of the decrepit old woman, and looked at her for a long time. The jury’s gaze followed his. “So, you don’t think she would have knowingly cut you out of her will and named Mr. Quinn as the beneficiary?”
“No way! Not a chance! Look at her, will you? She doesn’t even know her name!”
Rick turned to Vern. “Your witness, counselor.”
Vern asked for a few moments to examine the will, then approached Ms. Wright, studying the document as he did so. “Ms. Wright, would you please read Article Three of this will?”
He handed the document to Ms. Wright, who held it at arm’s length to bring the words into focus. She read it aloud, in a halting voice, “I hereby bequeath my entire estate to Michael J. Quinn. It is my suggestion that he distribute my estate among such charitable and religious organizations as he deems worthy; however, all decisions regarding the identity of such organizations and the amount of any such distributions, or whether to share my estate with any such organizations at all, shall be entirely within the sole and unfettered discretion of said Michael J. Quinn.”
“So, Ms. Wright, would you agree that your aunt’s motivation is to see that her estate be distributed to charity and that she is entrusting Mr. Quinn with the responsibility for identifying appropriate recipients?”
“I don’t agree with that at all. It’s just a sneaky way for him to get his hands on the money. He’s free to keep everything for himself, and I’m sure that’s his plan. But I have no intention of letting that happen!”
Vern was able to get Ms. Wright to grudgingly admit that the date of her aunt’s most recent will was prior to the time of her stroke, although she insisted that her aunt did not have the mental capacity to understand the consequences of her actions, even at that time. After that, Vern excused her and brought Mickey back to the witness stand.
Guided by Vern’s questioning, Mickey explained that he had no idea that he had been named as a beneficiary under Mrs. Shadel’s will. He mentioned that he was a special minister at St. Francis Church, and that, as such, he took Holy Communion on Sunday afternoons to parishioners who were unable to attend Mass, including Mrs. Shadel. He had been visiting her for that purpose for well over a year before her stroke. Since he had known her as a customer for over twenty years, and since she was obviously lonely, he frequently stayed and visited with her for an hour or so each Sunday. During many of those visits, Mrs. Shadel complained about being alone, and mentioned that her only living relative was a niece who never called or visited except when she needed money. Mickey testified that, on one occasion, Mrs. Shadel indicated that she wanted to change her will so that all of her property would go to charity rather than to her niece, but that she did not know what charities were deserving. Mickey testified that he had suggested to Mrs. Shadel that she discuss the matter with her attorney, and stated that there were no other discussions between him and Mrs. Shadel on that subject.
Jake thought Mickey looked defeated and resigned to a bad outcome as he finished his testimony. He spoke softly, without passion. That demeanor became more pronounced when Vern questioned him about Kenny Oliver. Mickey looked utterly bewildered. He denied any knowledge of the hidden shoebox or its contents. He denied any conversations with Kenny about that subject
. He denied any threats or even suggestions that Kenny’s job was at risk, and claimed that he didn’t even know that Kenny had quit until hearing him say so in the courtroom.
Rick was entitled to one final cross-examination of Mickey regarding his latest round of testimony. His calm, folksy demeanor was gone. He had become the picture of bottled-up intensity. He approached the witness stand like a boxer in the late rounds of a prizefight, circling a wounded opponent, looking to finish him off with a devastating and decisive knockout punch. “Mr. Quinn, you just testified that you know nothing whatsoever about this shoebox and its contents, correct?” He touched the remote control and an image of the shoebox appeared on the screen.
“That’s correct,” Mickey replied softly.
“So in other words, Kenny Oliver is lying?”
“I don’t know why he would do that, but what he said is simply not true.”
“So he’s lying, right?”
“Yes.”
“And when Ms. Wright testified that you deliberately tried to take advantage of her aunt, she’s lying too?”
“She’s mistaken. She wasn’t there and can’t possibly know what happened.”
“But you’re saying that the version of events she described here in this courtroom is not true, is that correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You would have us believe that Larry Doyle is lying, Kenny Oliver is lying, and Helen Wright is lying. Basically, Mr. Quinn, you’re expecting this jury to believe that every person involved in this case is lying, except you, is that right?”
“I’m telling the truth, as God is my witness.”
Rick looked at Mickey with contempt. “We’ll let the jury decide that, Mr. Quinn. No further questions.”
“In that case, we will recess for lunch and begin closing arguments promptly at 1:30,” Judge Gray announced. The jury filed silently out of the room, heads down, avoiding any eye contact with the defendant.
Jake, Mickey and Vern walked across the street to a sandwich shop and ordered lunch. They nibbled at their food, none of them having any real appetite. Jake tried to be encouraging. “Let’s stay positive, Mickey. They have the burden of proving their case. They can’t win unless they do, and they haven’t come close to proving anything. You can’t just walk into court and present a bunch of completely uncorroborated bullshit to a jury and expect them to buy it.”
Mickey looked morose. “I don’t understand this. Why would Kenny turn on me? I understand Larry’s motive. He hopes the jury will award him a pile of money. But Kenny? He’s got no stake in this. And that wretched Helen Wright? Clearly, she’s got a beef because she was cut out of her aunt’s will, but what does that have to do with Larry Doyle’s lawsuit? Why was she allowed to come here and try to poison the jury with that nonsense?” He stared silently at his uneaten sandwich. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
“I just can’t believe any jury would buy into their story,” Vern said, trying to sound upbeat. “We have to have faith in these jurors. We have to trust that they’re not gullible or stupid and that they will see this case for exactly what it is—a calculated, unconscionable attempt to game the system at your expense. It’s not over yet, my friend.”
The judge granted each side one hour for closing arguments. Rick went first. He carefully led the jury through all of the key elements of the testimony from Larry Doyle, Kenny Oliver and Helen Wright. While summarizing Larry’s testimony, Rick pointed to a flip chart that listed, in bullet-point format, each of the alleged incidents with approximate dates of occurrence. The written summary of graphically described transgressions painted a compelling picture—a clear and disturbing pattern of highly offensive behavior. While recounting Kenny’s testimony, a blown-up photograph of the shoebox and its contents was displayed on the flip chart. During his reiteration of Helen Wright’s testimony, an enlarged picture of the drooling, decrepit old woman with the lifeless eyes was prominently displayed. The jurors’ eyes alternated between Rick and the pictures as he recounted the testimony.
After summarizing the evidence, Rick made his final appeal to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, as I mentioned at the outset of this trial, you have a vitally important task before you. The facts here are in dispute, and it’s your responsibility to sort through them and determine where the truth lies. I believe that when you carefully consider the evidence, the truth will be clear.
“Mr. Quinn would have you believe that everyone who testified here—other than himself—is a liar. Unfortunately, there are some people in this world who choose to disregard the truth, but I believe that most people are honest. Most people do not lie, particularly when they’re under oath. Trust your instincts here. Trust in the basic honesty within people, and the weight of the evidence points to one thing—there’s only one person in this courtroom who is trying to deceive you; only one person who has reason to conceal the truth; and that is the defendant. Don’t let him get away with that.
“In our society, we place a great deal of trust in certain people. Our bosses, for example. They have power over us, and we trust them to use that power fairly. We also place great trust in the people who occupy positions of responsibility within our churches, as well as the people who care for the elderly in our communities. We trust them not to abuse their positions and take advantage of those who have placed their faith in them. When that trust is betrayed, great harm can result. But who is there to protect the weak and the vulnerable against that harm? You are. Our legal system is. We protect those people by holding our leaders accountable. We make them pay for their mistakes and send a message to the world that such conduct will not be tolerated. You have that power, and it is your responsibility to wield it—justly and forcefully.
“Mr. Quinn occupied numerous positions of trust. He was an employer to many, including Larry Doyle and Kenny Oliver. He was a representative of St. Francis Church and interacted with elderly parishioners in that capacity. He served other elderly shut-ins with his delivery business. He enjoyed great trust from his community. Mr. Quinn abused that trust, and you must tell him and the world that type of behavior is not acceptable. How do you send that message? You do it by punishing him financially.
“You heard testimony about Mr. Quinn’s income and the value of his business. You should consider that as you reflect upon what it would take to send him a strong message, and to compensate Mr. Doyle for all he has endured. Larry Doyle has been unable to sustain gainful employment since this awful incident over two years ago. He’s been embarrassed and humiliated. He may be emotionally scarred for the rest of his life. He deserves to be compensated. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, do what you think is right. That’s all I can ask.”
Despite the feeling of revulsion over what was happening, Jake could not help but admire Rick’s skill as a litigator. He did a masterful job of succinctly and forcefully summarizing the evidence in the light most favorable to his client. He was smooth and articulate. He seemed genuinely sincere and passionate about his client and his case, and he was convincing. He never came across as nasty or arrogant or condescending, as so many trial lawyers with big egos are wont to do. Any jury would like this guy, and it was clear that this one did.
Vern was not possessed of the same ability to connect with the jury. He was neither articulate nor polished, and certainly did not come across as personable. In fact, he was boring. He spoke in a monotone, without passion. Despite his lack of flair, however, he did a decent job of summarizing his case.
He emphasized that there was not a shred of evidence to support Larry’s testimony. He portrayed Larry as a disgruntled former employee who was obviously angry over his termination and was out for revenge. As for Kenny, there was no independent evidence to support his story either, other than the video, which could easily have been a setup. Why would a man of Mickey’s means need to stoop to stealing jewelry from his customers? No explanation had been provided about what use, if any, had been made of t
he credit cards and blank checks. Clearly, Mickey could not expect to use them for illicit purposes without getting caught. It just didn’t make any sense, and it was highly suspicious that this story should surface for the first time, through an acquaintance of Larry, just days before the trial.
Vern proceeded to point out that Ms. Wright had her own motive for coming forward – she had been disinherited. Her theory that Mickey was somehow trying to coerce or manipulate her aunt for his own gain was pure conjecture. In fact, his reasons for visiting with her on Sunday afternoons were motivated solely by his desire to be a Good Samaritan, by bringing her Holy Communion and spending time with her to alleviate her loneliness – something her niece never bothered to do. Vern also emphasized that Mrs. Shadel changed her will before she had her stroke. At that time, she was not the helpless, mindless creature portrayed in the picture repeatedly shown to the jury.
After summarizing the evidence, Vern walked back to the counsel table, picked up a legal pad and studied it for a few minutes. Then he proceeded with his final pitch to the jury. “As you consider the evidence presented to you, I ask you to keep in mind that the plaintiff has the burden of proof here. That means that there must be a preponderance of the evidence in his favor. The fact is that he hasn’t proven anything. He has egregiously harmed Mr. Quinn and his business through these very scandalous and public allegations. He has done so for his own greedy and spiteful purposes, and he is counting on you to finish the job for him by forcing Mr. Quinn to pay him a considerable sum of money. There is a victim here, but it’s not Larry Doyle. It’s Mickey Quinn. Don’t let Mr. Doyle con you. Show him that our jury system really works.”
It was late Wednesday afternoon when Vern finished, and the judge instructed the jury to commence to deliberations first thing the following morning, and to continue deliberating until they had reached a verdict. He advised the attorneys that they would be contacted by telephone when the jury had reached its decision.
Late Friday afternoon, the call came in, and all parties scurried back to the courthouse. The tension was palpable, and evident in the faces of both parties and their attorneys as the jury filed into the courtroom. Jake tried to read their faces and body language, but could not pick up any clues.