Perri O’Shaughnessy - Breach Of Promise

“How wonderful for you to be able to eat like that and stay skinny,” said Genevieve when the waiter left. “I could never eat a big, heavy pasta meal in the middle of the day, although during trials I stick to comfort food. Peanut butter sandwiches, chocolate chip cookies, whole milk.”

“I order fancy when I eat out because I’m a lazy cook,” said Nina. “My son and I live on canned tomato soup.”

“Then you both ought to take supplements,” Genevieve said disapprovingly. “I take a multivitamin plus extra vitamin E and folic acid and ginseng every day.”

“And I suppose you like high doses of vitamin C for colds.”

“Yes, I do,” said Genevieve.

“And you think I should, too.”

“You are under a lot of stress,” said Genevieve in a supportive tone, “aren’t you?” And the little voice in Nina’s head started up, saying, uh-oh, better straighten up, you’re being assessed.

Genevieve had a Master’s degree in statistics from M.I.T. and a Ph.D. in psychology from Duke. She told Nina she had considered law school. Then, with a decidedly wicked smile, she said she had eventually settled for being the brains behind the brawn.

By overnight courier, along with Genevieve’s impressive resume, Winston had sent Nina a copy of her thesis on “crowd psychology,” with its special emphasis on the decision-making process of jurors in the American legal system. The whole thing looked mathematical, filled with charts and formulae and statistical gobbledygook that she couldn’t follow.

Taking a leaf of lettuce onto her fork and tasting it, Genevieve said, “This morning on the plane I read all the pleadings you sent down to Winston, and I talked to Winston late last night. If he wins his hospital malpractice case, I’m predicting one point seven to one point nine.”

“How can you make a guess like that?”

“Went for a split-the-difference jury, then had Winston ask for three point six.”

“But the standard jury instruction is that you can’t have a compromise verdict. Juries aren’t supposed to-”

“You know they do it all the time,” Genevieve said. “They just get cagey to avoid trouble. See, they’ll go one point seven because one point eight-exactly half of what we asked for-would be too obvious. Problem for him in this case is the judge, plus he got saddled with a couple of wild cards on the jury he couldn’t keep off,” she said, shrugging, but obviously more than irritated by the thought. “No matter how good you are, there’s still some risk.”

“Will he take time off after this is over?”

“Not Winston. He’s got trials back-to-back. The next one’s in San Diego, nonjury.” With the discipline of a drill instructor she ate another lettuce leaf, detouring around a nearby crouton. “He said to tell you Sandy faxed him the minute order with the trial date, and he’s freed up the two weeks after that. I like May twenty-first, too. I’ve got a double murder case coming up next July.”

“I hope we can go with that date. Both sides want to get this over with. Mike Markov is furious that we’ve interfered in the business by getting a receiver and an accounting. Lindy Markov is broke for the first time in years. I’m fronting a lot of the costs myself…” including two hundred an hour for you, Nina thought. “I can’t afford to let it drag on.”

“From what I’ve read and what Winston tells me, this is your big one, Nina,” Genevieve said, smiling. “You could hit the jackpot with what I reckon your fee agreement must be. None of my business, of course, except I want to help you make it happen. Can we sit down with Miz Markov real soon? I’d like to ask her a few questions and get a good picture of her fixed in my mind.”

The soft voice, which occasionally slipped into a kind of countrified dialect Nina thought she must use for emphasis, coupled with the royal blue eyes, had distracted Nina for a second while she contemplated the extreme contrast between Genevieve’s savvy talk and the delicate girl sitting across the table. Genevieve probably made good use of that contrast when it suited her. Good. Maybe her looks would fool Riesner into underestimating her.

Genevieve was saying, “Right off the bat let me tell you women might not necessarily favor Lindy, unless we strike fast and make sure they do. They might think she got what she deserved. She knew what she was getting into. She knew he didn’t want to marry her. She knew he kept things in his own name to maintain his ownership. So we’ll need to be cunning as the little snake that slips through the grass and zaps the dragonfly before he even knows she’s there.”

“I understand you and Winston have worked together before.”

“Right. On a worker’s compensation case against a bank down in Long Beach. Remind me to tell you all about that sometime after I’ve had a few and we’ve got some time to burn. He’s quite a lawyer. In the beginning, nobody liked our client, but Winston spun their heads around and lined ’em up just the way we wanted by the end. I can’t wait to work with him again, and with you for the first time, Nina. I’ve read about you, which, if you think about it, is remarkable. L.A.’s about a million miles away from Tahoe, psychologically speaking.”

“You live in Los Angeles?”

“I grew up in New Orleans. Now I live in Redondo Beach, a half block from the ocean on Catalina Avenue in a little Spanish bungalow.”

“Any family?”

“No. My parents are both dead, and I don’t seem to have time for a steady guy. Just another lonely gal, lookin’ for love,” she said. Dimples peeked through her cheeks. “When I first got there, I learned to surf. Had to give it up when I started workin’ twenty-hour days.”

“You did? So did I. In a wet suit of course. I grew up in Monterey.”

“Well, it’s warmer in Redondo, but my favorite spot was the wedge in Newport.”

They shared some stories. Nina couldn’t help liking Genevieve. She wouldn’t put it past her to be fibbing about surfing, although she couldn’t catch her in an outright lie. But wouldn’t it be just like a person with her speciality to research Nina’s background, seeking some common ground before showing up for an interview? She enjoyed the conversation and had to admire Genevieve’s strategy, if that’s what it was.

“I have to tell you, I’ve never used a jury consultant before. And I have my doubts about it.”

“I’m your first,” said Genevieve. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You need to realize that you’re coming on as a consultant. I want you to give me the benefit of all of your knowledge, but I reserve the right to make my own decisions.”

“You’ll listen to me if you plan to win. What exactly do you know about jury consulting?”

“Very little.”

“It all started over twenty years ago with the trial of the Harrisburg Seven. That was the first time I know of when some of these techniques were used to help the defense team in selecting jurors.”

“Did they win?”

“That case was settled the night before the trial began,” said Genevieve. “But since then, social scientists have shown that, when employed by a knowledgeable pro, these techniques can work. Name any recent major trial, and I’ll give you five to one odds they used a jury consultant.”

“I’m not sure why it makes me uncomfortable,” Nina said. “Maybe I just don’t like the idea of manipulating a jury… but of course that’s exactly what I’m trying to do myself every single moment.”

“It’s war out there, honey. And it’s not like you know for sure how people will vote once those doors to the jury room shut behind them.”

“You’re right. There are always facts to muck up the works.”