The winter meeting of the Mississippi Trial Advocates (MTA) was held each year in Jackson, in early February while the legislature was still in session.
It was usually a weekend affair with speeches, seminars, political updates, and the like. Because the Paytons currently had the hottest verdict in the state, the trial lawyers wanted to hear from them. Mary Grace demurred1. She was an active member, but it wasn't her scene. The gatherings2 typically included long cocktail3 hours and war stories from the trenches4. Girls were not excluded, but they didn't exactly fit in, either. And someone needed to stay home with Mack and Liza.
Wes reluctantly volunteered. He, too, was an active member, but the winter meetings were usually boring. The summer conventions at the beach were more fun and family oriented, and the Payton clan5 had attended two of them.
Wes drove to Jackson on a Saturday morning and found the mini-convention at a downtown hotel. He parked far away so none of his fellow trial lawyers would see what he was driving these days. They were noted6 for their flashy cars and other toys, and Wes, at the moment, was embarrassed by the ragged7 Taurus that had survived the trip from Hattiesburg.
He would not spend the night, because he could not afford a hundred bucks8 for a room.
It could be argued that he was a millionaire, in someone's calculation, but three months after the verdict he was still squeezing every dime9. Any payday from the Bowmore mess was a distant dream. Even with the verdict, he still questioned his sanity10 in getting involved with the litigation.
Lunch was in the grand ballroom11 with seating for two hundred, an impressive crowd.
As the preliminaries dragged on, Wes, from his seat on the dais, studied the crowd.
Trial lawyers, always a colorful and eclectic bunch. Cowboys, rogues12, radicals13, longhairs, corporate14 suits, flamboyant15 mavericks16, bikers, deacons, good ole boys, street hustlers, pure ambulance chasers, faces from billboards17 and yellow pages and early morning television. They were anything but boring. They fought among themselves like a violent family, yet they had the ability to stop bickering18, circle the wagons19, and attack their enemies. They came from the cities, where they feuded20 over cases and clients, and they came from the small towns, where they honed their skills before simple jurors reluctant to part with anyone's money. Some had jets and buzzed around the country piecing together the latest class action in the latest mass tort. Others were repulsed21 by the mass tort game and clung proudly to the tradition of trying legitimate22 cases one at a time. The new breed were entrepreneurs who filed cases in bulk and settled them that way, rarely facing a jury. Others lived for the thrill of the courtroom.
A few did their work in firms where they pooled money and talent, but firms of trial lawyers were notoriously difficult to keep together. Most were lone23 gunmen too eccentric to keep much of a staff. Some made millions each year, others scraped by, most were in the $250,000 range. A few were broke at the moment. Many were up one year and down the next, always on the roller coaster and always willing to roll the dice24.
If they shared anything, it was a streak25 of fierce independence and the thrill of representing David against Goliath.
On the political right, there is the establishment, the money, and big business and the myriad26 groups it finances. On the left, there are the minorities, labor27 unions, schoolteachers, and the trial lawyers. Only the trial lawyers have money, and it's pocket change compared with big business.
Though there were times when Wes wanted to choke them as a whole, he felt at home here. These were his colleagues, his fellow warriors28, and he admired them. They could be arrogant30, bullish, dogmatic, and they were often their own worst enemies. But no one fought as hard for the little guy.
As they lunched on cold chicken and even colder broccoli31, the chairman of the legislative32 affairs committee delivered a rather bleak33 update on various bills that were still alive over at the capitol. The tort reformers were back and pushing hard to enact34 measures designed to curtail35 liability and close courthouse doors. He was followed by the chairman of political affairs, who was more upbeat. Judicial36 elections were in November, and though it was too early in the year to be sure, it appeared as though their "good" judges at both the trial and the appellate levels would not draw serious opposition37.
After frozen pie and coffee, Wes Payton was introduced and received a rousing welcome.
He began by apologizing for the absence of his co-counsel, the real brains behind the Bowmore litigation. She hated to miss the event but believed she was needed more at home with the kids. Wes then launched into a long recap of the Baker38 trial, the verdict, and the current state of other lawsuits39 against Krane Chemical.
Among such a crowd, a $41 million verdict was a much-revered trophy40, and they could have listened for hours to the man who obtained it. Only a few had felt firsthand the thrill of such a victory, and all of them had swallowed the bitter pill of a bad verdict.
When he finished, there was another round of boisterous41 applause, then an impromptu42 question-and-answer session. Which experts had been effective? How much were the litigation expenses? (Wes politely refused to give the amount. Even in a room of big spenders, the sum was too painful to discuss.) What was the status of settlement talks, if any? How would the class action affect the defendant43? What about the appeal?
Wes could have talked for hours and kept his audience.
Later that afternoon, during an early cocktail hour, he held court again, answering more questions, deflecting44 more gossip. A group that was circling a toxic45 dump in the northern part of the state descended46 on him and wheedled47 advice.
Would he take a look at their file? Recommend some experts? Come visit the site?
He finally escaped by going to the bar, and there he bumped into Barbara MeUinger, the savvy48 and battle-weary executive director of the MTA and its chief lobbyist.
"Got a minute?" she asked, and they retreated to a corner where no one could hear them.
"I've picked up a frightening rumor49," she said, sipping50 gin and watching the crowd.
MeUinger had spent twenty years in the halls of the capitol and could read the terrain51 like no other. And she was not prone52 to gossip. She heard more than anyone, but when she passed along a rumor, it was usually more than just that.
"They're coming after McCarthy," she said.
"They?" Wes was standing53 next to her, also watching the crowd.
"The usual suspects-Commerce Council and that group of thugs.”
"They can't beat McCarthy.”
"Well, they can certainly try.”
"Does she know it?" Wes had lost interest in his diet soda54.
"I don't think so. No one knows it.”
"Do they have a candidate?”
"If they do, I don't know who it is. But they have a knack55 for finding people to run.”
What, exactly, was Wes supposed to say or do? Campaign funding was the only defense56, and he couldn't contribute a dime.
"Do these guys know?" he asked, nodding at the little pockets of conversation.
"Not yet. We're lying low right now, waiting. McCarthy, typically, has no money in the bank. The Supremes think they're invincible58, above politics and all that, and by the time an opponent pops up, they've been lulled59 to sleep.”
"You got a plan?”
"No. It's wait and see for now. And pray that it's only a rumor.
Two years ago, in the McElwayne race, they waited until the last minute to announce, and by then they had a million plus in the bank.”
"But we won that race.”
"Indeed. But tell me you were not terrified.”
"Beyond terrified.”
An aging hippie with a ponytail lurched forward and boomed, "Y'all kicked their asses61 down there." His opening gave every impression that he would consume at least the next half hour of Wes's life. Barbara began her escape. "To be continued," she whispered.
Driving home, Wes savored62 the occasion for a few miles, then slipped into a dark funk over the McCarthy rumor. He kept nothing from Mary Grace, and after dinner that night they slipped out of the apartment and went for a long walk. Ramona and the children were watching an old movie.
Like all good lawyers, they had always watched the supreme57 court carefully. They read and discussed every opinion, a habit they started when their partnership63 began and one they clung to with conviction. In the old days, membership on the court changed little. Openings were created by deaths, and the temporary appointments usually became permanent. Over the years, the governors had wisely chosen the fill-ins, and the court was respected. Noisy campaigns were unheard-of. The court took pride in keeping politics out of its agenda and rulings. But the genteel days were changing.
"But we beat them with McElwayne," she said more than once.
"By three thousand votes.”
"It's a win.”
Two years earlier, when Justice Jimmy McElwayne got himself ambushed64, the Paytons had been too mired29 in the Bowmore litigation to contribute financially. Instead, they had devoted65 what little spare time they had to a local committee. They had even worked the polls on Election Day.
"We've won the trial, Wes, and we're not losing the appeal," she said.
"Agreed.”
"It's probably just a rumor.”
The following Monday afternoon, Ron and Doreen Fisk sneaked66 away from Brookhaven and drove to Jackson for a late meeting with Tony Zachary. There were some people they needed to meet.
It had been agreed that Tony would serve as the official director of the campaign.
The first person he brought into the conference room was the proposed director of finance, a sharply dressed young man with a long history of statewide campaigns, in a dozen states no less. His name was Vancona, and he quickly, and confidently, laid out the basic structure of their financial plan. He used a laptop and a projector67 and everything was flashed against a white screen, in vivid color. On the income side, the coalition68 of supporters would contribute $2.5 million. Many of these were the folks Ron had met in Washington, and for good measure Vancona presented a long list of groups. The names were a blur69, but the sheer number was impressive. They could expect another $500,000 from individual donors70 around the district, moneys that would be generated when Ron hit the stump71 and began to win friends and impress folks.
"I know how to raise the money," Vancona said more than once, but without being offensive.
Three million dollars was the magic number, and it virtually guaranteed a win. Ron and Doreen were overwhelmed.
Tony watched them carefully. They weren't stupid. They were just as easily misled as anyone else would be under the circumstances. They asked a few questions, but only because they had to.
On the expense side, Vancona had all the numbers. Television, radio, and newspaper ads, direct mail, travel, salaries (his would be $90,000 for the venture), office rental72, all the way down to bumper73 stickers, yard signs, billboards, and rental cars.
His grand total was $2.8 million, which left some wiggle room.
Tony slid over two thick binders74, each majestically76 labeled: "SUPREME COURT, SOUTHERN DISTRICT, RON FISK VERSUS77 SHEILA MCCARTHY CONFIDENTIAL78.”
"It's all in there," he said.
Ron flipped79 some pages, asked a few benign80 questions.
Tony nodded gravely as if his boy had genuine insight.
The next visitor-Vancona stayed in the room, a member of the team now-was a saucy81 sixty-year-old woman from D.C. whose specialty82 was advertising83. She introduced herself as Kat something or other. Ron had to glance at his notebook to confirm-Broussard.
Next to her name was her title: Director of Advertising.
Where had Tony found all these people?
Kat was filled with big-city hyperactivity. Her firm specialized84 in state races and had worked in over a hundred.
What's your winning percentage? Ron wanted to ask, but Kat left few openings for questions. She adored his face and voice and felt confident they would put together the "visuals" that would adequately convey his depth and sincerity85. Wisely, she spent most of her time looking at Doreen as she talked, and the girls connected. Kat took a seat.
Communications would be handled by a Jackson firm. Its boss was another fast-talking lady named Candace Grume, and, not surprisingly, she had vast experience in these matters. She explained that a successful campaign must coordinate86 in communications at all times. "Loose lips sink ships," she chirped87. "They also lose elections." The current governor was a client, and she saved the best for last. Her firm had represented Senator Rudd for over a decade. Enough said.
She yielded the floor to the pollster, a brainy statistician named Tedford who managed to claim, in less than five minutes, that he had correctly predicted the outcome of virtually every race in recent history. He was from Atlanta. If you're from the big city of Atlanta and you find yourself in the outback, then it's important to remind everyone there that you are indeed from Atlanta. After twenty minutes they were tired of Tedford.
The field coordinator88 was not from Atlanta but from Jackson. His name was Hobbs, and Hobbs looked vaguely89 familiar, at least to Ron. He boasted that he had been running successful campaigns in the state- sometimes out front, sometimes in the background-for fifteen years. He threw out the names of his winners without a thought of mentioning his losers. He preached about the necessity of local organization, grassroots democracy, knocking on doors, turning out the vote, and so on. He had an oily voice, and at times his eyes glowed with the fervor90 of a street preacher.
Ron disliked him immediately. Later, Doreen would admit she found him charming.
Two hours after the parade began, Doreen was almost catatonic, and Ron's notepad was bristling91 with the drivel he wrote in an effort to remain engaged.
The team was now complete. Five well-paid professionals. Six including Tony, but his salary would be covered by Judicial Vision. Ron, poring through his notebook while Hobbs was ranting92, found the column that projected "professional salaries” at $200,000 and "consultants93" at $175,000. He made a note to quiz Tony about these amounts later. They seemed much too high, but then what did he know about the ins and outs of a high-powered campaign?
They broke for coffee, and Tony herded94 the others out of the room. They left with warm farewells, excitement about the thrilling race ahead, and promises to meet again as soon as possible.
When Tony was alone again with his clients, he suddenly looked tired. "Look, I know this is a lot. Forgive me, but everybody is busy and time is crucial. I thought one big meeting would work better than a bunch of smaller ones.”
"No problem," Ron managed to say. The coffee was working.
"Remember, this is your campaign," Tony continued, straight-faced.
"Are you sure about that?" Doreen asked. "Doesn't really feel like it.”
"Oh yes, Doreen. I've assembled the best team available, but you can cut any one of them right now. Just say the word, and I'll be on the phone finding a replacement95.
Someone you don't like?”
"No, it's just that-”
"It's overwhelming," Ron admitted. "That's all.”
"Of course it is. It's a major campaign.”
"Major campaigns don't have to be overwhelming. I realize I'm a novice96 here, but I'm not naive97. Two years ago in the McElwayne race, the challenger raised and spent about two million dollars and ran a great race. Now we're tossing around numbers that are far more than that. Where is the money coming from?”
Tony snapped on his reading glasses and reached for a binder75. "Well, I thought we covered that," he said. "Vancona went over the numbers.”
"I can read, Tony," Ron shot across the table. "I see the names and amounts. That's not the question. I want to know why these people are willing to pony60 up three million bucks to support someone they've never heard of.”
Tony slowly peeled off his reading glasses with an air of exasperation98. "Ron, haven't we covered this a dozen times? Last year, Judicial Vision spent almost four million to elect a guy in Illinois. We spent close to six million in Texas. These numbers are outrageous99, but winning has become very expensive. Who's writing the checks?
The folks you met in Washington. The economic development movement. The conservative Christians100. Doctors who are being abused by the system. These are people who are demanding change, and they are willing to pay for it.”
Ron drank some more coffee and looked at Doreen. A long, silent moment passed.
Tony re-shifted, cleared his throat, and said softly, "Look, if you want out, then just say the word. It's not too late.”
"I'm not quitting, Tony," Ron said. "But this is too much for one day. All these professional consultants and-”
"I'll handle these people. That's my job. Yours is to hit the stump and convince the voters you're the man. The voters, Ron and Doreen, will never see these people.
They will never see me, thank God. You are the candidate. It's your face, your ideas, your youth and enthusiasm that will convince them. Not me. Not a bunch of staff members.”
Fatigue101 overcame them and the conversation lagged. Ron and Doreen gathered up the bulky notebooks and said their goodbyes. The drive home was quiet, but not unpleasant. By the time they drove through an empty downtown Brookhaven, they were once again excited by the challenge.
The Honorable Ronald M. Fisk, Justice, Mississippi Supreme Court.
收听单词发音 |
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demurred
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| v.表示异议，反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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cocktail
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| n.鸡尾酒；餐前开胃小吃；混合物 | |
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trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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clan
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| n.氏族，部落，宗族，家族，宗派 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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rogues
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| n.流氓( rogue的名词复数 )；无赖；调皮捣蛋的人；离群的野兽 | |
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radicals
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| n.激进分子( radical的名词复数 )；根基；基本原理；[数学]根数 | |
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corporate
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| adj.共同的，全体的；公司的，企业的 | |
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flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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mavericks
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| 未烙印的牲畜( maverick的名词复数 )； 标新立异的人，不合常规的人 | |
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billboards
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| n.广告牌( billboard的名词复数 ) | |
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bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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feuded
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| vi.长期不和（feud的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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legitimate
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| adj.合法的，合理的，合乎逻辑的；v.使合法 | |
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lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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dice
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| n.骰子；vt.把（食物）切成小方块，冒险 | |
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streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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myriad
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| adj.无数的；n.无数，极大数量 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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mired
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| abbr.microreciprocal degree 迈尔德（色温单位）v.深陷( mire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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broccoli
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| n.绿菜花，花椰菜 | |
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legislative
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| n.立法机构，立法权；adj.立法的，有立法权的 | |
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bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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enact
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| vt.制定(法律)；上演，扮演 | |
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curtail
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| vt.截短，缩短；削减 | |
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judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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lawsuits
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| n.诉讼( lawsuit的名词复数 ) | |
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trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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impromptu
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| adj.即席的，即兴的；adv.即兴的(地)，无准备的(地) | |
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defendant
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| n.被告；adj.处于被告地位的 | |
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deflecting
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| （使）偏斜， （使）偏离， （使）转向( deflect的现在分词 ) | |
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toxic
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| adj.有毒的，因中毒引起的 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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wheedled
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| v.骗取（某物），哄骗（某人干某事）( wheedle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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savvy
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| v.知道，了解；n.理解能力，机智，悟性；adj.有见识的，懂实际知识的，通情达理的 | |
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rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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terrain
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| n.地面，地形，地图 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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invincible
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| adj.不可征服的，难以制服的 | |
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lulled
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| vt.使镇静，使安静（lull的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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asses
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| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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savored
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| v.意味，带有…的性质( savor的过去式和过去分词 )；给…加调味品；使有风味；品尝 | |
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partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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ambushed
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| v.埋伏( ambush的过去式和过去分词 )；埋伏着 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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sneaked
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| v.潜行( sneak的过去式和过去分词 )；偷偷溜走；（儿童向成人）打小报告；告状 | |
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projector
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| n.投影机，放映机，幻灯机 | |
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coalition
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| n.结合体，同盟，结合，联合 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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70
donors
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| n.捐赠者( donor的名词复数 )；献血者；捐血者；器官捐献者 | |
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71
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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rental
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| n.租赁，出租，出租业 | |
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bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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binders
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| n.（司机行话）刹车器；（书籍的）装订机( binder的名词复数 )；（购买不动产时包括预付订金在内的）保证书；割捆机；活页封面 | |
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75
binder
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| n.包扎物，包扎工具；[法]临时契约；粘合剂；装订工 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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78
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
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80
benign
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| adj.善良的，慈祥的；良性的，无危险的 | |
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81
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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82
specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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83
advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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specialized
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| adj.专门的，专业化的 | |
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85
sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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86
coordinate
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| adj.同等的，协调的；n.同等者；vt.协作，协调 | |
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chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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88
coordinator
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| n.协调人 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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ranting
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| v.夸夸其谈( rant的现在分词 )；大叫大嚷地以…说教；气愤地)大叫大嚷；不停地大声抱怨 | |
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consultants
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| 顾问( consultant的名词复数 )； 高级顾问医生，会诊医生 | |
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94
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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replacement
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| n.取代，替换，交换；替代品，代用品 | |
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novice
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| adj.新手的，生手的 | |
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naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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98
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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99
outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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100
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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101
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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