T. Bunn - Winner Take All

Judge Rachel Sears offered Marcus a tight smile of approval as he set his briefcase upon the table. “Are we alone this morning, Mr. Glenwood?”

“Apparently so, your honor.” Marcus turned to inspect his new foe. Opposing counsel’s table was occupied by a Health and Human Services lawyer. This one was white and male and had a slick nervous sheen to his skin. He wore a button-down Oxford blue shirt with a stained wool tie. Normally the HHS attorneys were the least prepared of all local counsel. They generally worked between fifty and seventy active cases at any one time. Their paperwork was notoriously shoddy. Family court judges usually granted them enormous leeway. If an HHS attorney requested a stay, that was generally enough for the court to require a medical assessment. Where children were concerned, most judges preferred to err on the side of extreme caution.

The HHS attorney opened with “Your honor, we have learned over the weekend that Erin Brandt has died. We are here to request that her child immediately be made a ward of the court.”

Marcus demanded, “Let’s get this straight. You’re pointing the finger at my client? You are? Or Hamper Caisse?”

The HHS guy kept his gaze locked on the judge. “Your honor, we have reason to believe that Dale Steadman has proven himself to be an unfit father. The father is under indictment for the murder of his former spouse. Plus there are numerous other issues that raise warning flags.” He fumbled with his own case and drew out three bound portfolios. “We have prepared a brief outlining our concerns.” He plunked a copy on Marcus’ table and walked forward with another.

The judge eyed his work with consternation. She flipped through the pages. She looked at him. “What is your caseload at this time?”

He struggled with the knot of his tie. “Hard to say, your honor.”

“Ballpark figure.”

“Around three hundred. Of which about fifty are active.”

“Three hundred cases.” She rifled through the pages. “How many staff?”

“Just me and my secretary.”

“And you put together a brief that runs to,” Judge Sears checked the top of the last page. “Two hundred and twelve pages?”

“We are aware that the child is about to come home, your honor.”

“Is that so? And just exactly how did you learn this?”

Marcus could hear the guy swallow from across the room. “It stands to reason, judge. The mother is dead, the child has nowhere else to go. We are asking that the baby be made a ward-”

“Hold that thought. First I want to get a fix on what’s brought us to this point.” She crossed her robed arms over the closed brief. “In all my time on the bench I’ve never seen anyone from HHS come in here so prepared. Normally I have to be satisfied if you’ve bothered to interview the neighbors to either side. When did you have time to prepare these documents?”

“Yesterday.” He swiped at his hair. “As I said, your honor, we are deeply concerned about this boy’s well-being.”

Judge Sears slowly repeated, “This boy.”

The lawyer almost turned to where Hamper had taken a choke hold on the railing. He caught himself just in time. “Did I say that? Sorry, your honor. I meant the girl.”

“Are you sure? What is the child’s name?” She halted his motion with a tightly aimed gavel. “Don’t you open that brief, sir. Anybody who’s gone to all this trouble over a weekend is bound to at least know how the child is called.”

The lawyer was caught flat-footed. Judge Sears let the silence hang a moment, then said, “You may open your brief if need be.”

The young man almost dove for the pages. “Celeste, your honor. Celeste Steadman, no middle name. Sorry, it just slipped my mind there.”

Judge Sears shot Marcus a silent heads-up, then asked the young attorney, “I assume you have included the child’s birth certificate?”

“Ah …” The attorney’s search of the pages became more frantic. Hamper looked ready to explode from his seat.

“That’s all right.” Sears at her mildest. “No doubt you have a copy in your files.”

When the attorney’s search through his briefcase came up with nothing more than sweat and bumbling fingers, Hamper Caisse sifted through his own papers, then reached forward and rammed it into the HHS lawyer’s outstretched hand. The HHS attorney spun about and announced, “Here it is, your honor.”

Marcus was already rising to his feet. “Your honor, I feel it is in the court’s interest to know what else Mr. Caisse has in his briefcase.”

Hamper gave his best imitation of a man severely electrocuted. “What?”

Sears gave him a tiny nod of approval as Marcus continued, “If Mr. Caisse has an attorney-client relationship here, he has to assert it. Otherwise, he’s just a witness. If he’s a witness, I want to call him to the stand.”

Hamper bolted to his feet. “Judge, I protest! There’s nothing more sinister here than a lawyer who’s been hooked up with this case for weeks now, worried about this child.”

Sears aimed the gavel at his face. “What I see is an individual on the wrong side of the bar addressing this court.”

“But-”

“Either sit yourself down and be quiet, or come up before me here and declare yourself!”

When Hamper reluctantly forced himself back down, Marcus announced, “Your honor, I ask that you issue a bench subpoena. Mr. Caisse must not be permitted to leave the courtroom until the subpoena is served.”

A bench subpoena would act as a search warrant on Hamper’s person and his briefcase, granting the court power to seize any documents deemed pertinent to the case. Another brief nod told Marcus he had handed Judge Sears the ammo she required. “Step forward, Mr. Caisse.”

Hamper was loath to move. “Do I need to have the bailiff assist you?”

When Hamper stood before the judge’s podium, Judge Sears used both hands to pull her hair back in a gesture of tight animosity. “All right, give. What’s your role in this petition?”

“Interested third party, your honor.”

She turned to Marcus, inviting his response. “I’m here about the child, your honor. Everything else is secondary. Including whatever tricks opposing counsel is up to now.”

“Your honor, I object in the strongest possible terms!”

Marcus continued to address the judge. “This child is a United States citizen. She has the right to grow up here among her people. Right now she’s lost to us. First her mother abducted her. Then she hid her away somewhere. She obviously was planning something. I want to know what. I want to know why .”

“Wait a second now,” Caisse sneered. “You’re not suggesting Erin Brandt had a hand in her own demise.”

“How are we to know what happened so long as the facts remain hidden?” Marcus stabbed the air between them. “Whatever Hamper has secreted away, I feel the court has a right to know!”

“Spare us the histrionics,” Hamper shot back.

“Mr. Caisse, do you know where the child is?”

“No, your honor, I do not.”

“Do I need to put you under oath?”

“It would not change my response one whit, your honor. I’m telling you the dead solid truth here.”

“In that case, I hereby am issuing forthwith a subpoena to search your briefcase. I wish to see if you are withholding any documents of vital concern.” She waved to where the deputy sat in the empty jury box. “Bailiff.”

Hamper used both arms to hug the case to his chest. “You can’t do that!”

“You’re about to witness,” she declared grimly, “just how wrong you are.”

Hamper danced a step away from the approaching deputy. “Your honor, this is proprietary information!”