Ellison nodded. “A fitting coda.”
“Coda?” Sweeney laughed. “No. Prelude. First we destroy him. First we crush him beneath my feet and leave him broken and penniless, turning tricks in bathroom stalls for chump change.” Sweeney rubbed his hands together, a smile finally returning to his face. “And then, once the public eye is turned in a different direction...then we kill him.”
Chapter 6
Dan loved being in the courtroom. Even when the stakes were enormous, even when he was worried to death about the outcome, a part of him loved being here. It was his home away from home—in a real sense, the only home he’d had since he was fourteen and his entire life fell apart in a single day.
Of course, he was normally here on criminal cases, which most people thought were far more interesting, more exciting. Civil courts were just people suing each other, arguing over money. But in criminal courts, lives were on the line. Futures. Freedom.
That might be the conventional wisdom, but today, even though no one was accused of murder, the stakes were sky high.
Maria tugged him toward the plaintiff’s table. “Just in case you’ve forgotten since last time, let me remind you of the courtroom protocol. I’m the lawyer. You’re the client. I talk. You sit quietly with a pleasant expression on your face.”
“I’m having a strong feeling of déjà vu,” he grumbled.
“Did it work last time? Did we win?”
“Technically, the charges were dropped.”
“That’s a win.” She pulled two chairs out and they both took their seats.
“You know,” Dan said, “I agreed that it was crazy to represent myself against criminal charges. But in a civil case? Not the same.”
“You’re the plaintiff. You have no semblance of impartiality.”
“You’re not partial.”
“It’s different. Judges and juries expect lawyers to say or do whatever is necessary to help their clients. That’s doing the job right. When clients act that way on their own behalf, they look like they’re buttering their own bread.”
“But we’re members of the same law firm. We know each other personally.”
“The court doesn’t know you’ve been lusting after me since the first moment you laid eyes on me.”
He gave her a look. “What I meant was, we work together. We share financial interests.”
“No one cares about that. Sex, sure, that’s interesting. Money is boring. Law firms are even more boring.”
“I think our law firm is anything but boring. But...” Out the corner of his eye, he saw the back doors open. “Some are.”
Two lawyers strode up the middle aisle, brandishing briefcases like they were cudgels. Dan knew them both—because he had worked with them in his previous life at Friedman & Collins, one of the largest firms in the city. Fancy offices, corporate clients, big egos. They were Caldwell Caldwell and Richard Drake, both senior partners, the kind of big shots who rarely made personal appearances in the courtroom, especially for preliminary hearings. Of course, Sweeney’s ego demanded that he have the most expensive lawyers in town. And that everyone knew it.
Dan nodded cordially. “Caldwell. Richard. Good to see you.”
Caldwell did not smile, but neither did she frown. Her affect was so completely flat and emotionless that he sometimes suspected she was an android. Small blue earrings. Smudge on the right side of her neck. Tag out at the back of her blouse. “Daniel. It’s been several months since we saw you last. In this same courtroom, if I recall correctly.”
“You do. Apparently Judge Fernandez gets all the best cases.”
“You do realize that you have no chance of success, right?”
Dan didn’t take it personally. It would be like arguing with Siri. “As a matter of fact, I do not realize that.”
“I understand that you want to generate favorable publicity for yourself. I don’t blame you. If I’d been accused of murder, associating with a South American cartel, and sleeping with a murderer, I’d probably need to rehabilitate my reputation as well.” She paused. “Not that I would even allow any of those things to happen to me. We don’t go in for that sort of thing at Friedman & Collins.”
“I don’t care about publicity,” Dan said. “All I care about it the truth.”
Drake inched a little closer. Skinny. Protruding Adam’s apple. Expensive but ill-fitting suit. Like he had tons of money but didn’t know what to do with it. “Truth, huh?” He smirked. Apparently he was the member of the team responsible for having a personality. “Don’t forget justice and the American Way, Dan.”
“I won’t.”
“Newsflash. Courtrooms have nothing to do with truth. Especially in the civil arena. They’re a way of resolving disputes. Better than, say, trial by combat. Or holding accused witches underwater to see if they drown. But it has nothing to do with truth.”
“That speech explains why Sweeney hired you. Where is the big guy, anyway?”
“I saw no reason for him to attend this hearing. He’s a busy man.”
“He’ll have to appear eventually.”
More smirk. “Not if we get the case dismissed today. That’s the difference between us Dan. And why you’re no longer at Friedman & Collins.”
“Leaving your firm was the best move I ever made.”
“Translation: After being kicked out on your ass, you managed a decent rebound. But you’re messing with criminals and lowlifes, while we’re representing the finest members of the community.”
“And Sweeney is an example of these model citizens you represent?”
“Biggest philanthropist in the city. Has done more good for the community than anyone else on earth.”
“It’s a cover. He’s scum.”
“Says you. I spoke with Dr. Sweeney this morning. I’ve never known him to be so...not completely even-tempered. You’ve gotten away with a great deal in the past, but the line must be drawn somewhere, and he’s drawing it right here, on this case. You’re going to be sorry you filed this action. You’ve bitten off more than you can possibly chew. And you’re going to pay the price for your folly.” Drake glanced at Maria. “You, and everyone associated with you.”
Without another word, Drake and Caldwell crossed to their table.
Maria gave Dan an arched eyebrow. “Classy bunch you worked with.”
“You can see why I didn’t fit in.”
“Because you have a soul?”
He couldn’t stifle the laugh. ”Something like that.”
* * *
Judge Fernandez entered the courtroom with the usual fanfare. He was an elderly gentlemen of mixed Hawaiian and Hispanic descent. Reasonably fair, though with a decided conservative, pro-business bent. Dan had last appeared before him when he represented Ossie Coleman’s quest to establish his identity as an heir to a fortune.
Fernandez raced through the preliminaries associated with a case’s first appearance on the court docket. His clerk set deadlines for the completion of discovery and for a pretrial hearing. The dates were considerably sooner than Dan had expected, but Fernandez had a reputation for running a tight ship.
“And we already have a motion before us.” Fernandez stared at the briefs as if he had never seen them before. “A motion to dismiss. Before discovery has been completed. Or even initiated. I assume you have a legal basis, counsel?”
Caldwell rose. Apparently she was taking the lead. “Yes, your honor. Failure to state a claim.”
“You don’t feel any of the statements alleged in the Petition are actionable?”
“Certainly not, your honor. Truth is a defense. You can’t run around suing people for stating facts just because you don’t like them. The plaintiff’s father was convicted of murder. He received a life sentence and died behind bars. Sad, to be sure, and hard on a teenage boy, I’m sure. But hardly slanderous.”
Fernandez nodded, then turned to the other table. “And responding to this motion we have...”
“Maria Morales.” She sto
od.
“I assume you have a few words to say. Remembering that we are not here to argue the facts at this time. Only the law.”
“Your honor, I think Ms. Caldwell is well aware that our case is not based solely upon allegations pertaining to my client’s father. He is sadly deceased, so a tort claim on his behalf would have no chance of success. This claim is based upon the false and defamatory statements made about my client.”
Fernandez nodded. “Which are?”
“The defendant Conrad Sweeney, who is not in the courtroom today, implied that my client is a murderer and that he has affiliations with organized crime.”
Fernandez pulled down his readers, scanning the documents. “Now that’s a serious accusation.”
“And as far from the truth as it’s possible to be. My client is a defense attorney. His associations with criminals, if you want to call it that, have arisen from his constitutionally protected duty as a member of the bar to provide a reasonable defense to the accused.”
“That is how the system works.”
“There’s more to it than that,” Caldwell said, cutting in. “Mr. Sweeney was preferring to the fact that time and again Mr. Pike has been associated with criminals. Smugglers and sex traffickers.”
“Again,” Maria said, “this is so not true it hurts to hear it. In fact, my client recently worked with the local police and the FBI on a sting operation to apprehend four men involved in an organ-smuggling ring. My client was present in the courtroom when one of them was executed.”
“I did hear about that, of course,” Fernandez said. “Horrible thing.”
“Agreed,” Maria continued. “but the point is, my client has always worked on the side of the angels. Sweeney tried to turn him into a devil. That’s slander. Worse, it’s an act of defamation that could have a direct impact on my client’s ability to earn a living.”
“It’s my understanding,” Caldwell said, “that her client has not worked as a lawyer for months.”
“Which is not relevant in the least.”
“We also understand that he receives a salary from the head of his law firm which has not been interrupted.”
“Also irrelevant.”
“I disagree. If he’s still getting a salary, he’s suffered no damage.”
“Your honor, courts can take into account future damages. He can’t keep his job forever if he doesn’t have any clients. And Mr. Sweeney’s comments have damaged his ability to obtain clients. That much is clear.”
“What’s clear,” Caldwell said, “is that this whole case is trumped-up nonsense conceived for the purpose of giving an egomaniac a public forum to vent his spleen.”
Fernandez raised a hand. “No, what’s clear is that are many factual issues that need to be heard. So dismissal at this time would be premature. The motion is denied.”
“Your honor,” Caldwell said, “If I may—”
Fernandez gave her a stern look. “I’ve ruled, counsel. That means you stop talking.”
Caldwell drew in her breath. “Yes, your honor.”
“Discovery will proceed. After it has been completed, counsel, if you see fit to file a motion for summary judgment because the plaintiff cannot possibly prevail, I will entertain the motion. Is there anything else?”
Maria reached for a folder on the table. “Yes, your honor. Since you raised the issue of discovery, I’ve prepared a list of witnesses we would like to depose. I’d like to present it to defendant’s counsel at this time, if I may. I also will submit a copy to the court.”
The judge nodded. “Of course.”
Maria crossed to the other side. “We will also be sending written interrogatories and document requests. We believe the defendant has many written materials pertaining to this matter that are not in the public record.”
Caldwell grabbed the list and almost make a facial expression. “Your honor, this is more than twenty people.”
Maria nodded. “And there may be twenty more after that.”
“We will not comply.”
The judge intervened. “Counsel, I hope you’re not suggesting you’re planning a lot of discovery difficulties. Nothing on earth I hate more than endless discovery disputes. I take a liberal approach to—”
“We will comply with all reasonable requests, your honor. Not unreasonable ones.”
Judge Fernandez drew in his breath. “Counsel...did you just interrupt the court?”
“I knew what you were going to say.”
He drummed his fingers on the bench. “So there was no reason to let me say it?”
“Just trying to move things along, sir.”
Drake stood. “Your honor, we’re aware that opposing counsel has a history of courtroom tricks. Theatrics. Dragging things out. Abusing the process.”
“Excuse me?” Maria said. “I’m not the big firm lawyer billing four hundred bucks an hour. I’m just trying to expose the slander. Which you are clearly trying to cover up by refusing to produce witnesses for deposition.”
Drake started to speak again, but the judge raised his hands. “Stop. Both of you. Right now. I will not have this. Ms. Caldwell, if you have a specific objection or a need for discovery protection, you may file a motion. But failing that, I expect you to comply with standard procedures and to produce witnesses upon request. If you can’t manage this voluntarily, the court will issue subpoenas. Either way, your witnesses will still have to talk. So don’t cause unnecessary problems. Be a professional and show opposing counsel the collegiality they deserve.”
Caldwell lowered her head. “Understood, your honor.”
The judge glanced at his watch. He was obviously ready for this to be over. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes.” If Caldwell felt at all chastened by what had happened before, she didn’t let it show. “We would like to give notice to the court and opposing counsel that we will be filing counterclaims on behalf of our client. Significant counterclaims.”
“I’m sure we all saw that coming. Another defamation claim?”
“Yes, your honor.” Caldwell drew in her breath. “Plus tortious interference with business relations.”
The judge’s chin lowered. “Tortious interference? Are you familiar with the law of the state of Florida, counsel?”
“Of course, your honor. We know this is a rare claim—”
“Rarely successful.”
“But these are extreme circumstances. Our client, Conrad Sweeney, typically grosses more than a billion dollars a year. A great deal of that goes to charitable enterprises. Nonetheless, the plaintiff sought him out and intentionally staged a public scene for the sole purpose of humiliating, which inevitably will cause people to be reluctant to enter into business or charitable activities with our client in the future. The damages here could be in the tens of millions. Perhaps even billions.”
“And who exactly will you be suing?”
“The plaintiff, of course. Daniel Pike. And every member of his firm. Ms. Morales. Mr. Armstrong. Mr. Wainwright.” She paused. “And the leader of the firm, whose name is not known to us. We will identify him as a John Doe, but through discovery, we hope to learn his true identity. We believe he is the deep pocket who has financed these slanderous activities and, as a result, it’s only right that he should be held responsible for them.”
“This is outrageous,” Dan muttered, just loud enough to be heard.
The judge pointed his gavel. “I will ask the plaintiff to keep his comments to himself.”
He rose. “Judge, surely you can see that this is just blackmail. Sweeney’s trying to get us to back off by threatening to use his economic power to destroy our business.”
The judge’s eyebrows creased. “That may or may not be true, but if you have an argument to make, you make it through your lawyer. I will not tolerate any disrespect in this courtroom. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care who any of you are. You will follow the rules or you will be found in contempt of court. Am I clear?”
Dan nodd
ed.
“Very good. We are finished here. I will see you all next time you’re on the docket.” He rose, smoothing his robe. “Though I can’t say that I’m looking forward to it.”
* * *
After the judge left the courtroom, Dan tried to beat Maria to the punch. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. You were right. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry.”
“You should be. Now not another word till we’re back at the office. These walls have ears.”
He scooped up his backpack and followed her out the door, ignoring the smirks from opposing counsel.
They were in trouble. Already. He knew Sweeney would come after him hard and fast. But it was clear now he wasn’t stopping at that. He was going after Maria, Jimmy, Garrett. Even Mr. K. Probably everyone he knew. Sweeney was taking the slash-and-burn approach and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had economically salted the earth for everyone who ever made the mistake of associating with Daniel Pike.
Yes, he wanted to learn the truth about his father. But the question Garrett posed earlier haunted him. At what cost?
Chapter 7
Fabian Fuentes sat at his table in the darkest corner of Beachcombers nursing his Captain Morgan and waiting for his associates to report. Perhaps drinking a booze brand that used a pirate logo was a bit cliché, or too on-the-nose, but he couldn’t help it. He loved the stuff. And he suspected he was going to need a little pot-valor, if he was going to get through this forthcoming conversation. This was not a way of handling stress. This was a way of containing his temper.
Two men entered the bar, scanned the room, spotted him. The place was not that crowded. Even after the social distancing requirements brought on by the COVID-19 scare faded, people still seemed to space themselves in public places. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. He didn’t want anyone near him. But the isolation made him easier to spot, more likely to attract notice.
His associates took seats on the opposite side of the booth. They were dressed like Americans, blue jeans and t-shirts, nothing that stood out. The instant they opened their mouths, it would be clear that they were not originally from Florida. He would make sure they kept their voices low.
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