T. Bunn - The Great Divide

Judge Nicols hesitated a long moment. Then, “I am going to allow this. But, Mr. Glenwood, I must warn you once more. A stronger tie must be shown.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Marcus said, turning away before either Logan or the judge could see what his adrenaline rush threatened to reveal. He did not have a tie, but at least Ashley had handed him some rope.

Through the rest of that morning and much of the afternoon, Marcus led the Richmond lawyer through his own research into New Horizons’ activities. A ream of court records was submitted as evidence, with Charlie Hayes passing out summaries to the jurors. Charlie greeted the jurors with silent nods, showing that even a retired federal judge was not above waiting on them. It was an unexpected boon, the old man working as a willing assistant, and one that did not go unnoticed by the defense. Logan watched with frowning intent as Charlie rose time after time, but could find no reason to object.

New Horizons’ pattern unfolded like a great and intricate fan. The company was shown to have a history of moving into an area and barely skirting the law. Taub described how he had been involved in a case he had first won, then watched as the New Horizons lawyers buried it with appeals. Marcus did not go further at that moment. Logan would first wield his knife and draw blood, there was no question of that. Then Marcus would try to stitch up the wound.

They moved on from the Richmond trial itself to patterns in other cases, the number of which totaled just over four dozen. Migrant-worker abuses, failure to pay overtime, minimum-wage violations, collective-bargaining problems, environmental infractions, assault and battery of union organizers, bribery of local officials.

Logan was up and out of his seat before Marcus could frame the words “No further questions.” Logan approached the witness stand with a predatory stalk. “Mr. Taub, let’s go back to some of the unfounded accusations you just leveled against my client. You seem so aware of everything. Would you be able to tell the jury precisely how many of the aforementioned cases were actually won by the plaintiffs involved?”

“New Horizons has very good lawyers.”

“That’s not what I asked. Answer the question, Mr. Taub. How many were won by the accusers?”

“My own, for a starter.”

“Your own, yes, we’ll come back to your case in just a moment. But how many of the others have been resolved in favor of the plaintiffs. It’s not a difficult question. Try and give us a straight answer this time.”

“The straight answer is that whenever the lower courts found for the plaintiff, the company tied up the decision in appeal.”

“That is not the answer, Mr. Taub. That is not the answer. Your Honor, I ask that you instruct the witness to pay attention.”

“You are an attorney, Mr. Taub,” Judge Nicols admonished. “You know the procedure here on cross.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Marshall Taub turned back to the defense attorney with an expression that was both weary and resigned. But his voice remained rock-steady. “I would imagine very few.”

“None at all is the correct answer, Mr. Taub. None at all. An interesting fact to escape your attention when you and the plaintiff’s lawyer were so intent on sullying my client’s good name. Not one of these cases has been resolved against my client. None. Zero. Zip.” Logan waited a moment, then added, “Do you have any idea how the number of cases against New Horizons compares with those brought against other companies its size?”

“No.”

“Interesting how this second vital statistic has been missed as well. But you are aware, are you not, that there is a steady rise in litigation aimed at big American businesses, as hungry lawyers and greedy plaintiffs seek to profit from nuisance cases like this one?”

“Objection, Your Honor.”

“Sustained. The jury is instructed to disregard those comments.”

Logan stepped away, distancing himself from the jury box and the fray. From the room’s far end he asked, “You have had some problems of your own, haven’t you, Mr. Taub.”

“Yes.” The man straightened his shoulders, though it cost him. He kept his voice strong, though it cost him more. “I have.”

“Indeed you have. Many problems.” Logan moved back to his table, accepted the paper handed him by Suzie Rikkers. “You were fired from your law firm, were you not?”

“I resigned.”

“They found you incompetent in your duties, is that not correct?”

“I resigned,” he repeated, looking at nothing.

“You declared personal bankruptcy, not once but twice. Is that not also correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you have been disciplined by the state bar on two separate occasions,” Logan’s voice rose in surprised incredulity. “For showing up drunk in court?”

Marshall Taub remained stoic, unbowed. “Yes.”

“Do you feel that leaves you in any position whatsoever to criticize my client, or to taint its reputation?”

“Objection!”

“I withdraw the remarks,” Logan said, retreating to his table. “No further questions.”

Marcus rose and slowly approached the stand. The shameful pain was etched deep on Taub’s unhealthy features. Marcus could offer nothing by way of comfort, except a single slow nod. The Richmond attorney had stood up well. “Mr. Taub, about the case you brought against New Horizons. How did the lower court find in that trial?”

“They found the company guilty on all counts, and awarded my clients seven million dollars.”

“Guilty on all counts,” Marcus replied slowly. “And how long ago was that?”

“Six years ago.”

“What has happened since then?”

“The company’s attorneys have appealed, and attached to the appeal more than forty different motions. I devoted all my time to arguing these motions. Fighting this case cost my partnership almost nine hundred thousand dollars.” His voice was toneless, his gaze aimed at all his past errors. “Finally they told me to either quit the case or quit the firm. I resigned. I put everything I had into fighting the case. I lost my family. I lost everything.”

“Do you have any idea how many other cases have resulted in such an avalanche of appeals?”

“I have been in direct contact with nine other lawyers, all of whom won in lower courts. None has received a single penny in compensation. Four have-”

“Objection!”

“I withdraw the question.” Marcus returned to his table, embittered by the exchange. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

“The witness is excused. Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” Judge Nicols paused for a moment before rising, long enough to issue Marcus a stern but silent warning. He gave her nothing but grimness in return. Charlie had requested fireworks. Fireworks there would be.

The sky was dark by the time Darren drove into the Halls’ development. The houses were so new they shone in the streetlights. Most, however, were adorned with whimsical Victorian flairs. Corner windows bowed around cupolas with high-paneled roofs. Porches were graced with intricate latticework. Light streamed out from almost every window he saw, gold and welcoming. Marcus found his tired mind wishing the unseen dwellers well, hoping they would never know the vagaries of unforeseen tragedy, yet suspecting even this fine scene withheld secrets of fear and need and woe.

As they pulled into the driveway, Alma Hall was already shutting the front door and buttoning her sweater. Marcus took this as a bad sign, and wished he had more energy to deal with the coming onslaught.

But the woman offered her own tired smile in greeting. “Austin’s fallen asleep on the living-room sofa. It’s the first real rest he’s had in weeks. Do you mind if we talk out here?”