Patrick McLean - How To Succeed in Evil

R. Lee McEllroy, representing Excelsior, comes from a long line of silver-tongued devils. He is well respected as a defense attorney, and highly regarded as a fixer. Topper knows him well, and has, at various times, carried a marker on him for debts he has acquired from him in a regular card game run by the Clerk of Court. McEllroy is an ideal choice as local counsel for the government’s defense of Excelsior.

At first, R. Lee is a little in awe of Excelsior. After all, this is the man who had stopped the Sprawl invasion almost single-handedly. But as soon as the great man opens his mouth, McEllroy realizes that he is a client just like any other. Maybe more so.

“It’s bullshit that I even have to be here,” Excelsior says, “What good are you if you can’t even get me out of this bullshit court case?”

“Mr. Uh, Excelsior, uh, we’ve passed the point in the process where the case can be dismissed by the judge. Since you’re not willing to settle –"

“It’s not me, it’s him. Them, the government.” With a jerk of a gauntleted hand, he indicates Gus sitting the corner. Gus hooks a lung rocket in the corner of his ragged mouth.

“Uh, there’s no smoking in my office,” says McEllroy.

“Of course, we could settle,” Gus says as he lights up anyway. He takes a long draw, then rolls the cigarette around between his thumb and forefinger. “But then we’ll just have to keep paying. And paying. And paying. No, if we are going to fight this fight, we’re going to fight it and win it so it stays won. So nobody else ever thinks to come looking for money.”

“I’m not going to do it,” says Excelsior.

“What do you mean you’re not going to do it?” asks Gus. “You don’t have to do anything. You just show up in a nice— I mean, your suit and sit there. It’s got to be the easiest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.”

“It’s a sham. What are you going to do if I don’t? Are you going to lock up me? With what? Where? I’m tired of this bullshit. That Cromoglodon thing destroys buildings and kills people and you leave him alone. Why? Because he’s powerful. He gets to do whatever he wants because he’s powerful. And I don’t get to do anything I want? It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.”

“It’s not fair,” Gus says, mocking Excelsior. “You sound just like a three-year old girl. Pull it together. Pretend like you’re a man.”

“Screw you and your tough-guy talk. It’s all talk. That’s all it is. What are you going to do tough guy? Who’s gonna stop me? You? Him?”

R. Lee McEllroy swallows uncomfortably. He wishes he were elsewhere.

“Don’t let him scare you. He’s an idiot,” says Gus. McEllroy is not reassured. “Go on. Get out of here. I need a word in private with your client.” McEllroy scurries from his own office.

Gus stubs out his cigarette on the sole of his boot. Then he looks at Excelsior for a long time. Excelsior breaks first.

“What? Why are you looking at me and not talking?”

“You know, soon I’ll be dead. And since you don’t seem to be getting any older, or wiser, I think you’re going to outlive me. Outlive me and a whole bunch of others. And if you live long enough you’re gonna be free of it. And then you can do what you want.” Gus struggles to rise from the plush leather chair. His entire frame quivers with anger, “But I know what you did. I was there! We gave you your pass. We gave you the chance to earn it. To prove you were worth it.”

Excelsior gets a faraway look in his eye and sinks into a couch. Gus advances on him.

“So you can play hero all you want. But I know. And unless you get your head on straight, unless you get back in this game, everybody else is gonna know too. You read me boy?”

After a moment Excelsior nods.

“You want that? You want all those people out there to know what kind of a person you really are?”

Excelsior shakes his head.

Gus walks to the office door and calls McEllroy back. “It’s all right son, I gentled him down a might. He’ll behave now.”

“All rise for the honorable Judge Perkins.”

As the packed courtroom gets to its feet. Topper looks over at Excelsior. Jesus, he looks good in that silly costume. Red, white and blue. That full head of hair, strong jutting chin. He looks like all that is best about America stacked up in one place. And the sonofabitch is tall too. Where does this guy get off looking so young? He has to be 70 at least?

In that moment, Topper regrets taking the case. He feels like he is going to throw up. The jury is already swooning over Excelsior. This is hopeless.

“Would the counsel for the plaintiff please rise?” says the Bailiff.

A flash of anger brings Topper back to himself. “Larry, if you got a real job, maybe you could buy a new joke,” Topper fires back.

The judge enters the courtroom. All business. Judge Perkins is not a man to tolerate nonsense. This kind of judge has cost Topper in the past. But this time Topper thinks it will work in his favor. If anyone is going to make nonsense speeches in this case it will be Captain Red White and Blue. Or better yet, his overblown legal counsel, McEllroy.

Topper looks over, and up, at Edwin. His tall friend looks positively Gothic in this setting. His grey suit is immaculate. He looks like the agent of all the ordinary, right and regular commerce of the world; the everyday events and assurances that keep it all on course.

Edwin’s exceptional mind sees the law as a complicated intellectual machinery. It was the right approach for contracts and corporate law, but, not for litigation. Topper thinks that Edwin has never really been able to get his mind around litigation. Edwin is all finesse. He doesn’t realize that sometimes facts make sense only when you when you beat them into shape. And that is what litigation is for.

Edwin certainly doesn’t understand what role appearance and opinion play in the courtroom. How easily and subtly a jury can be swayed/seduced from one point of view to another. No, it was all an equation to Edwin. A very complicated and useful equation. Like a machine. Input here, output there. But this view left no room for magic. And legal magic is what Topper does best.

As he looks back and forth between Edwin and Excelsior, his stomach settles down. He remembers why he took this case. And how he can win it. Next to Edwin, this guy looks like a cross between a clown and a boyscout. Both are great figures for children. But for adults, for the modern world, for the continued progress of civilization, boy scouts are obsolete.

He also wants to do well by his friend. Edwin and Topper are very different. But the world never really fit either of them. And misfits have to stick together, don’t they? Or else all the ordinary people will band together and stomp them flat.

Sometimes Topper feels very stupid around Edwin. But this, this trial, is something that he can do. And do better than the tall man. This is Topper’s chance to come through. To do his part. To pay back all of the favors Edwin has done him over the years. The guy has thrown him an entire practice worth of business. Topper owes. And this is his chance to make good.

“Gentleman,” begins Judge Perkins, “I’m going to give both of you the same advice — I don’t care who you are, or the circumstances of how you got here. This is a court of law. You will respect it as such. As prejudicial to my character as it will be to hold such a great servant of this country as Excelsior to account at my bench or in contempt of this court, I will do it. Here we hold men equal before the law.”

Excelsior nods gravely.

“And the plaintiff, Mr. Windsor. This is an unusual, one might say outrageous, suit you bring. But you have grievances and they will be heard. But I instruct you and your counsel to remember that we are not putting a hero on trial. We are settling a civil matter. It is a question of responsibility and, perhaps, compensation.”