T. Bunn - Winner Take All

As the young woman led him away, the foreman called over, “God bless you, Mr. Dale.”

Judge Sears waited until the old man departed to ask, “Do I have all the pertinent evidence to hand at this point?”

Hamper had remained on his feet. “I wish to draw your honor’s attention back to what we discussed on Friday. There has been a drastic change to the agreement which he himself drew up with his wife.” Hamper extracted his copy of the custody agreement, and waved it for effect. “He wrote it out himself, seated at the dining table with his soon-to-be ex-wife.”

Marcus suggested, “You want to add it was done in his own blood? That would heighten your drama.”

“That will do, Mr. Glenwood.”

“Your honor, I have discussed this at length with my client. He claims never to have seen this document before.”

Hamper was ready for that. “We have his signature on a notarized agreement.” He waved the sheaf of papers once more. “Is he claiming he was blind drunk then as well?”

Marcus knew this was the direction Hamper would take, as he would have done himself. But the statement needed to go on record. “Not only that, but an agreement which was not even mentioned in the initial proceedings can’t possibly be considered either binding on this court or enforceable.”

“Not true, your honor,” Hamper responded. “The records will show that there never was a formal custody hearing, merely an uncontested divorce granted in chambers. Anyone in their right mind would know the mother wouldn’t dream of such a thing unless there was something like this arrangement on the side.”

“Where are your signed affidavits of sworn testimony from this woman?” Marcus shot back. “Better still, where is your client?”

“Unclog your ears, counsel. If you’d been listening, I’ve already covered that matter. Furthermore, your honor, there is the unresolved issue of jurisdiction. The child is in Germany. This court has no right to make any order binding upon the government of Germany.”

“But the child was abducted, your honor. Surely-”

“That may be something for a criminal court to consider, which I very much doubt. But this court has no jurisdiction.”

“Not true, your honor. The divorce matter was here. The child was named in the divorce proceedings. That makes for continuing jurisdiction for this court.”

“Only if it is in the best interest of the child. Which this is not.”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” Judge Sears took a long moment to study her own notes, then said, “The original order is valid on its face. It was tried in this court and heard by me. I see no reason at this point to overturn the original court findings. Therefore the original order stands as valid. Mr. Caisse, your motion to set this order aside is denied. Mr. Glenwood, your request for an ex partae order, requiring the mother to present herself and the child before this court on Thursday, is hereby issued.”

Hamper’s face twisted in very real pain. “That presents an intolerable burden to my client, your honor. Her schedule-”

“If her schedule will not permit her to appear before this court, perhaps she is also not able to find the time to properly see to a child.” She leaned across the bench. “We are going to have a hearing so that I can listen to live testimony from both sides. Your client has until this Thursday to comply. Is that clear, Mr. Caisse?”

“Yes, your honor.”

“It better be.” Rachel Sears’ face was as unyielding as Marcus could ever recall. “In every single case where I’ve issued an ex partae order, live testimony has revealed that the situation is nothing close to what was represented initially.”

Hamper did his best to look affronted. “I have given you nothing but the absolute verified facts of the matter, your honor.”

“Save it. You both know the court’s standing at this point. I am legally obliged to put the child’s welfare before everything else. I therefore expect you both to be here, with your respective clients and the child, at nine o’clock Thursday morning.” She applied the gavel with vehemence. “Next case.”

Once outside the courtroom, Marcus planted himself directly in the opposing attorney’s path. “I can’t believe you started in with those sleight-of-hand tactics.”

Hamper Caisse touched the knot of his tie, nodded to a passing attorney, and replied with a casual sneer. “What is this, you don’t have a case so you go after me?”

“I’ve been around this block with you before. You’ve got a statewide rep for tactics that would make a streetwalker blush.”

“You’re the one who resorted to shabby tactics in there. You’re grabbing at straws and wasting everybody’s time.”

“What happened to the common courtesy of picking up the phone and informing opposing counsel what you intend? Has backstabbing and deception become your modus operandi?”

“We’re not gathered here for a tea dance. I didn’t get dressed up so I could ask you to waltz. Your client is a menace. For all I know he’s done something horrible to that little girl.”

By now every eye in the lobby was upon them. “You know as well as I do there’s nothing behind those accusations except your own overheated imagination.”

“That’s just the sort of allegation that’ll have you begging the review board to let you keep hold of what career you’ve got left.”

“Not to mention those outrageous claims about a custodial agreement.” A thought occurred to him then. Marcus decided there was no reason not to probe. “When was the last time you had contact with Sephus Jones?”

There might have been a flicker in those flat gray eyes. “Who?”

Maybe Marcus was just looking too hard. But he continued just the same. “A no ’count chicken thief who works over at the quarry. I wonder if there’d be any mention of the man among your former clients.”

“If he’s a habitual offender, probably. Since I deal with twelve, maybe thirteen hundred cases a year. Can you even count that high, counselor? Do you even remember what it’s like to carry a full caseload?”

“You wouldn’t also happen to count among your associates somebody who knows how to forge a corporate check? I’m asking on account of how some things don’t add up unless I factor you into the equation.”

Hamper slung his briefcase within a hairbreadth of Marcus’ nose. “You don’t have the first tiny idea of the hornet’s nest you got yourself stuck into. I intend to stake your client out in the dirt, strip him bare, and flay him alive! And you’re gonna be sprawled in the dirt right there alongside him!”

Marcus remained in the courtroom foyer and endured the solemn condolences of the legal fraternity because he had to. The fact that so many were sincere in what they had to say about Charlie Hayes only made his torment worse. With some relief Marcus spotted Omar Dell hovering on the group’s fringe, and excused himself to walk over.

The court reporter wore a form-fitted navy suit with a pale blue chalk-stripe and matching knit silk tie. “Glad to see you able to make it today, counselor.”

“You wrote up the story?”

“ ‘Local Attorney Escapes Assassination Attempt.’ By Omar Dell, staff reporter and man on the rise.”

“There’s no indication the bomb was directed at me. If it was a bomb at all.”

“Police think it was. Especially since the explosion happened the week you started another attack on New Horizons.” To his credit, Omar failed to show a reporter’s objective distance. “I’m very sorry about the loss of your friend. Charlie Hayes was one special man.”

“He was that.”

“Seeing as how you were one of his closest friends, I expect people want to tell you stories about him, draw him closer in the process. I’d guess that is hard to take sometimes.”