Randy Singer - The Justice Game

Kelly’s experience had not been like that. A nurse at Hillside had made it clear that the RU-486 pill was not convenient and painless. She had carefully explained the differences between chemical abortion and surgical abortion with patience and sensitivity. Kelly’s impression, which proved to be right, was that the RU-486 pill would be like a miscarriage with bleeding and cramping and a sense of loneliness.

And plenty of guilt, something the nurse had not talked about.

Most women said they chose the pill rather than surgery because it seemed more natural and allowed them to have a semblance of control. These were definitely factors in Kelly’s thinking. She could start the process at home, on her schedule. And it felt like something she did to herself, rather than something somebody else did to her.

But in hindsight, Kelly realized that she had also picked RU-486 precisely because it was not easy and quick and painless. In a convoluted way that Kelly couldn’t quite express, it felt right to suffer, as if the process itself should be the beginning of her penance.

Six years old. Her baby would have started first grade this year.

She blinked back tears and forced herself to focus on the job at hand. She had turned this over and over in her mind, always reaching the same conclusion. The leak must have come from someone at the clinic. She would walk in and demand a meeting with her doctor, refusing to leave until he gave her a few minutes of his time. She would tell him that somebody had threatened to disclose the fact that she had been pregnant. She would explain that she had talked to no one outside the clinic about it. She would demand that he investigate.

But even as she rehearsed the conversation in her mind, she recognized the problems with this approach. There was a good chance her doctor would become defensive. Even if he initiated an investigation, it would probably be clumsy and ineffective, serving no purpose other than to make the blackmailer more circumspect. If the doctor brought in outside authorities, it would only increase the number of people who knew about Kelly’s abortion.

Kelly knew she might temporarily feel better if she gave the doctor a piece of her mind, but it would solve nothing. Everyone at the clinic had treated her with kindness and respect. In her heart, it was hard to believe that somebody in there was working with the blackmailer.

She stared at the clinic and tried to honestly assess her own motives. Was she hesitating because she was scared? Or was this genuinely a bad idea?

Either way, she couldn’t make herself go in there.

She put her car in drive and pulled out of the parking spot. She would find out who was behind the blackmail; her resolve hadn’t been weakened one bit.

But this was not the way.

Jason had heard that the ability of opposing lawyers to get along decreased exponentially as trial approached. Now he knew it was true. Throw in a high-profile case, a frosty relationship at the outset, and two young lawyers both trying to make a name for themselves, and the result was a constant parade to the courthouse so the judge could resolve petty disagreements.

The first two Fridays in March found Kelly and Jason arguing over various discovery disputes. They took turns accusing each other of improperly withholding information, operating in bad faith, filing burdensome and harassing discovery requests, and other forms of underhanded lawyering and general thuggery. Judge Garrison ruled for Kelly on some points and for Jason on others, frustrating everybody.

On the third Friday, the lawyers found themselves in Garrison’s courtroom again, this time arguing over Kelly’s desire to take a follow-up deposition of Melissa Davids. “I won’t need more than two hours,” she claimed. “There are some things I know now that I didn’t know when I first deposed her.”

“Like what?” Jason asked.

“I’m not required to divulge my deposition strategy,” Kelly responded.

After twenty minutes of heated argument, Judge Garrison banged his gavel and told the lawyers he’d heard enough. He started with a lecture aimed at Kelly-he wasn’t going to keep letting her have a second and third shot at the defendant every time she thought of something new. But then he talked about the purpose of discovery and how both sides should have more than adequate opportunity to question the other party on all matters relevant to the case.

Jason could see where the ruling was headed and wanted to scream. He understood the rules of full and open discovery, but Melissa Davids had already answered questions for nearly six hours. His client was going to have a fit.

“You’re only getting two more hours with the witness,” Garrison told Kelly. “Not a minute more.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

“And you’ll have to fly to Atlanta at your expense. I’m not making Ms. Davids come back here for two hours.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Anything else?” Judge Garrison asked.

“No, Your Honor,” Kelly said cheerfully.

Jason shook his head, refusing to give Judge Garrison the satisfaction of a verbal reply. At first, Jason had thought Garrison was a good draw for the case. The judge had risen through the ranks of the Republican party and was certifiably conservative. But now the information provided by Rafael Johansen was never far from Jason’s mind. The judge had issues… Maybe somebody on the other side was pulling his strings. Jason didn’t think Kelly was capable of such a thing, but there were a lot of strident gun-control groups with an active interest in the case.

Or maybe it was something less nefarious. Maybe Garrison just subconsciously favored nice-looking female attorneys.

Either way, there wasn’t much Jason could do about it right now. After the hearing, he would call Case McAllister and tell him to get Melissa Davids ready for another two hours of deposition. What new angle did Kelly Starling want to pursue?

Ten days later, Jason stopped by his office early in the morning on his way to the airport. Not surprisingly, Bella was there. She had his trip folder organized and ready to go, including directions from the airport to MD Firearms, the prior deposition of Davids indexed and summarized, and every other possible item Jason might need on his trip, including the phone number for Judge Garrison’s chambers if the court needed to rule on something during the deposition.

Jason thought about the day he had interviewed Bella, how he had almost hired that other woman-what was her name? Going with grit, girth, and experience over beauty and seduction had been one of the smartest decisions of his young legal career.

But on this particular morning, Bella’s one major weakness was also in full bloom. She wasn’t satisfied just running her own life; she had to mother Jason, too.

She did it from a familiar vantage point-blocking the door to Jason’s office, her arms folded across her chest, clutching manila folder files and legal documents.

“Brad Carson used to always say a trial is a marathon,” Bella pontificated. “You can’t keep up this pace for a marathon.”

“What pace?” Jason asked without looking up. He didn’t have time for this.

“Let’s see… at 11:30 last night, you e-mailed me the first draft of a Motion to Compel in the MD Firearms case; two hours later, a draft of our expert’s opinions on the McAfee case-so now we’re looking at nearly two in the morning. Four hours later, I’m getting more e-mails about the need to set up appointments with fact witnesses for each of these hair cases.”

Jason shrugged. “I’m nocturnal.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Bella said, as if Jason’s answer had somehow confirmed her point. “When’s the last time you went to the beach?”