Clete Coley's colorful launch landed with perfect timing1. There was not another interesting story throughout the entire state. The press seized Coley's announcement and beat it like a drum. And who could blame them? How often does the public get to see vivid footage of a lawyer getting handcuffed and dragged away while yelling about those "liberal bastards2." And such a loud, large lawyer at that? His haunting display of dead faces was irresistible3. His volunteers, especially the relatives of the victims, were more than happy to chat with the reporters and tell their stories. His gall4 in holding the rally directly under the noses of the supreme5 court was humorous, even admirable.
He was rushed downtown to central headquarters, and there he was booked, fingerprinted6, and photographed. He assumed, correctly, that his mug shot would find its way to the press in short order, and so he had a few moments to think about its message.
An angry scowl7 might confirm the suspicion that this guy was a bit off his rocker.
A goofy smile might lead to questions about his sincerity-who smiles when he's just arrived at the jail? He settled on a simple blank face, with just a trace of a curious glare, as if to say, "Why are they picking on me?”
Procedures called for every inmate8 to strip, shower, and change into an orange jumpsuit, and this usually happened before the mug shot. But Clete would have none of it. The charge was simple trespass9, with a maximum fine of $250. Bail10 was twice that, and Clete, his pockets bulging11 with $100 bills, flashed enough money around to let the authorities know he was on his way out of jail, not the other way around. So they skipped the shower and the jumpsuit, and Clete was photographed in his nicest brown suit, starched12 white shirt, paisley silk tie in a perfect knot. His long, graying hair was in place.
The process took less than an hour, and when he emerged a free man, he was thrilled to see that most of the reporters had followed him. On a city sidewalk, he answered their questions until they finally grew weary.
On the evening news, he was the lead story, with all the drama of the day. On the late night news, he was back. He watched it all on a wide-screen TV in a bikers' bar in south Jackson, where he was holed up for the night, buying drinks for everyone who could get in the door. His tab was over $1,400. A campaign expense.
The bikers loved him and promised to turn out in droves to get him elected. Of course, not a single one was a registered voter. When the bar closed, Clete was driven away in a bright red Cadillac Escalade, just leased by the campaign at a thousand dollars a month. Behind the wheel was one of his new bodyguards13, the white one, a young man only slightly more sober than his boss. They made it to the motel without further arrest.
At the offices of the Mississippi Trial Advocates on State Street, Barbara Mellinger, executive director and chief lobbyist, met for an early round of coffee with her assistant, Skip Sanchez. For the first cup, they mulled over the morning newspapers.
They had copies of four of the dailies from the southern district-Biloxi, Hattiesburg, Laurel, and Natchez- and Mr. Coley's face was on the front page of all four. The Jackson paper reported little else. The Times-Picayune out of New Orleans had a readership along the Coast, and it ran an AP story, with photo (hand cuffs) on page 4.
"Perhaps we should advise all our candidates to get themselves arrested when they do their announcements," Barbara said drily and with no attempt at humor. She hadn't smiled in twenty-four hours. She drained her first cup and went for more.
"Who the hell is Clete Coley?" Sanchez asked, staring at the various photos of the man. Jackson and Biloxi had the mug shot-the look of a man who would throw a punch and ask questions after it landed.
"I called Walter last night, down in Natchez," she was saying. "He says Coley has been around for years, always on the edge of something shady but smart enough not to get caught. He thinks that at one time he did oil and gas work. There was a bad deal with some small business loans. Now he fancies himself a gambler. Never been seen within six blocks of the courthouse. He's unknown.”
"Not anymore.”
Barbara got up and moved slowly around the office. She refilled the cups, then sat down and resumed her study of the newspapers.
"He's not a tort reformer," Skip said, though not without some doubt. "He doesn't fit their mold. He's got too much baggage for a hard campaign. There's at least one DUI, at least two divorces.”
"I think I agree, but if he's never been involved before, then why is he suddenly screaming about the death penalty? Where does this conviction come from? This passion?
Plus, his show yesterday was well organized. He's got people. Where do they come from?”
"Do we really care? Sheila McCarthy beats him two to one. We should be thrilled he is what he is-a buffoon15 who, we think, is not being financed by the Commerce Council and all the corporate16 boys. Why aren't we happy?”
"Because we're trial lawyers.”
Skip turned gloomy again.
"Should we arrange a meeting with Judge McCarthy?" Barbara asked after a long, heavy pause.
"In a couple of days. Let the dust settle.”
Judge McCarthy was up early, and why not? She certainly couldn't sleep. At 7:30 she was seen leaving her condo. She was trailed to the Belhaven section of Jackson, an older neighborhood. She parked in the driveway of the Honorable Justice James Henry McElwayne.
Tony was hardly surprised by this little get-together17.
Mrs. McElwayne greeted her warmly and invited her inside, through the den14 and kitchen and all the way back to his study. Jimmy, as he was known to his friends, was just finishing the morning papers.
McElwayne and McCarthy. Big Mac and Little Mac, as they were sometimes referred to.
They spent a few minutes chatting about Mr. Coley and his astounding18 press coverage19, then got down to business.
"Last night, I went through my campaign files," McElwayne said as he handed over a folder20 an inch thick. "The first section is a list of contributors, beginning with the heavy hitters and going south. All the big checks were written by trial lawyers.”
The next section summarized his campaign's expenses, numbers that Sheila found hard to believe. After that there were reports from consultants21, sample ads, poll results, a dozen other campaign-related reports.
"This brings back bad memories," he said.
"Sorry. This is not what I wanted, believe me.”
"You have my sympathy.”
"Who's behind this guy?”
"I thought about it all night. He could be a decoy. He's definitely a nut. Whatever he is, you can't take him lightly. If he's your only opponent, sooner or later the bad guys will find their way into his camp. They'll bring their money. And this guy with a fat checkbook could really be frightening.”
McElwayne had once been a state senator, then an elected chancery court judge. He'd fought the political wars. Two years earlier, Sheila watched helplessly as he was savaged22 and abused in a bitter campaign. At its lowest point, when his opponent's television ads (later known to be financed by the American Rifle Association) accused him of being in favor of gun control (there is no greater sin in Mississippi), she had told herself that she would never, under any circumstances, allow herself to be so degraded. It wasn't worth it. She would scamper23 back to Biloxi, open a little boutique firm, and see her grandchildren every other day Someone else could have the job.
Now she wasn't so sure. She was angered by Coley's attacks. Her blood was not yet boiling, but it wouldn't take much more. At fifty-one, she was too young to quit and too old to start over.
They talked politics for over an hour. McElwayne spun24 yarns25 of old elections and colorful politicians, and Sheila gently nudged him back to the battles she now faced.
His campaign had been expertly run by a young lawyer who took a leave of absence from a large Jackson firm. McElwayne promised to call him later in the day and check his pulse. He promised to call the big donors26 and the local operatives. He knew the editors of the newspapers. He would do whatever he could to protect her seat on the bench.
Sheila left at 9:14, drove nonstop to the Gartin building, and parked.
The Coley announcement was noted27 at Payton & Payton, but little was said. On April 18, the day after, three important events occurred, and the firm had no interest in other news. The first event was well received. The others were not.
The good news was that a young lawyer from the tiny town of Bogue Chitto stopped by and cut a deal with Wes. The lawyer, an office practitioner28 with no personal injury experience, had somehow managed to become the attorney for the survivors29 of a pulpwood cutter who'd been killed in a horrible accident on Interstate 55 near the Louisiana line. According to the highway patrol, the accident had been caused by the recklessness of the driver of an eighteen-wheeler owned by a large company. An eyewitness30 was already on record stating that the truck passed her in a wild rush, and she was doing "around" seventy miles per hour. The lawyer had a contingency31 agreement that would give him 30 percent of any recovery. He and Wes agreed to equally split it. The pulpwood cutter was thirty-six years old and earned about $40,000 a year. The math was easy. A million-dollar settlement was quite possible. Wes drew up a lawsuit32 in less than an hour and was ready to file.
The case was especially gratifying because the young lawyer chose the Payton firm on account of its recent reputation. The Baker33 verdict had finally attracted a worthwhile client.
The depressing news was the arrival of Krane's appellant brief. It was 102 pages long-twice the limit-and gave every impression of being beautifully researched and written by an entire team of very bright lawyers. It was too long and two months late, but the concessions34 had been granted by the court. Jared Kurtin and his men had been very persuasive35 in their arguments for more time and more pages. It was, obviously, not a routine case.
Mary Grace would have sixty days to respond. After the brief was gawked at by the rest of the firm, she hauled it to her desk for the first reading. Krane was claiming a grand total of twenty-four errors at trial, each worthy36 of correction on appeal.
It began pleasantly enough with an exhaustive review of all the comments and rulings by Judge Harrison that allegedly revealed his intense bias37 against the defendant38.
Then it challenged the selection of the jury. It attacked the experts called on behalf of Jeannette Baker: the toxicologist who testified as to the near-record levels of BCL and cartolyx and aklar in Bowmore's drinking water; the pathologist who described the highly carcinogenic nature of these chemicals; the medical researcher who described the record rate of cancer in and around Bowmore; the geologist40 who tracked the toxic39 wastes through the ground and into the aquifer41 under the town's well; the driller who drilled the test holes; the doctors who performed the autopsies42 on both Chad and Pete Baker; the scientist who studied pesticides43 and said ghastly things about pillamar 5; and the most crucial expert, the medical researcher who linked BCL and cartolyx to the cancerous cells found in the bodies. The Paytons had used fourteen expert witnesses, and each was criticized at length and declared unqualified. Three were described as charlatans44. Judge Harrison was wrong time and again for allowing them to testify. Their reports, entered into evidence after lengthy45 fights, were picked apart, condemned46 in scholarly language, and labeled as "junk science." The verdict itself was against the overwhelming weight of the evidence and a clear indication of undue47 sympathy on the part of the jury. Harsh but skillful words were used to attack the punitive48 element. The plaintiff fell far short in her efforts to prove that Krane had contaminated the drinking water either by gross negligence49 or by outright50 intent. Finally, the brief ended with a strident plea for a reversal and new trial, or, better yet, an outright dismissal by the supreme court. "This outrageous51 and unjustified verdict should be reversed and rendered," it read in closing. In other words, throw it out forever.
The brief was well written, well reasoned, and persuasive, and after two hours of nonstop reading Mary Grace finished it with a splitting headache. She took three Advil, then gave it to Sherman, who eyed it with all the caution he would have given a rattlesnake.
The third event, and the most alarming news, came in a phone call from Pastor52 Denny Ott. Wes took it after dark, then walked to his wife's office and closed the door.
"That was Denny," he said.
As Mary Grace looked at her husband's face, her first thought was that another client had passed away. There had been so many sad phone calls from Bowmore that she could almost anticipate one. "What is it?”
"He talked to the sheriff. Mr. Leon Gatewood is missing.”
Though they had no affection whatsoever53 for the man, the news was still troubling.
Gatewood was an industrial engineer who had worked at the Krane plant in Bowmore for thirty-four years. A company man to the core, he had retired54 when Krane fled to Mexico, and had admitted, in deposition55 and on cross-examination at trial, that the company had given him a termination package worth three years' salary, or about $190,000. Krane was not known for such generosity56. The Paytons had found no other employee with such a sweet deal.
Gatewood had retired to a little sheep farm in the southwest corner of Cary County, about as far from Bowmore and its water as one could possibly get and still reside in the county. During his three-day deposition, he steadfastly57 denied any dumping at the plant. At trial, with a stack of documents, Wes had grilled58 him without mercy.
Gatewood called the other Krane employees liars59. He refused to believe records that showed tons of toxic by-products had, in fact, not been hauled away from the plant, but had simply gone missing. He laughed at incriminating photographs of some of the six hundred decomposed60 BCL drums dug up from the ravine behind the plant. "You doctored those," he shot back at Wes. His testimony61 was so blatantly62 fabricated that Judge Harrison talked openly, in chambers63, of perjury64 charges. Gatewood was arrogant65, belligerent66, and short-tempered and made the jury despise Krane Chemical. He was a powerful witness for the plaintiff, though he testified only after being dragged to court by a subpoena67.
Jared Kurtin could have choked him.
"When did this happen?" she asked.
"He went fishing alone two days ago. His wife is still waiting.”
The disappearance68 of Earl Crouch69 in Texas two years earlier was still an unsolved mystery. Crouch had been Gatewood's boss. Both had vehemently70 defended Krane and denied what had become obvious. Both had complained of harassment71, even death threats.
And they weren't alone. Many of the people who worked there, who made the pesticides and dumped the poisons, had been threatened. Most had drifted away from Bowmore, to escape the drinking water, to look for other jobs, and to avoid getting sucked into the coming storm of litigation. At least four had died of cancer.
Others had testified and told the truth. Others, including Crouch, Gatewood, and Buck72 Burleson, had testified and lied. Each group hated the other, and collectively they were hated by the remainder of Cary County.
"I guess the Stones are at it again," Wes said.
"You don't know that.”
"No one will ever know. I'm just happy they're our clients.”
"Our clients are restless down there," she said. "It's time for a meeting.”
"It's time for dinner. Who's cooking?”
"Ramona.”
"Tortillas or enchiladas?”
"Spaghetti.”
"Let's go find a bar and have a drink, just the two of us. We need to celebrate, dear. This little case from Bogue Chitto might just be a quick million-dollar settlement.”
"I'll drink to that.”
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timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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bastards
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| 私生子( bastard的名词复数 )； 坏蛋； 讨厌的事物； 麻烦事 （认为别人走运或不幸时说）家伙 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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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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fingerprinted
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| v.指纹( fingerprint的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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trespass
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| n./v.侵犯，闯入私人领地 | |
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bail
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| v.舀（水），保释；n.保证金，保释，保释人 | |
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bulging
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| 膨胀； 凸出（部）； 打气； 折皱 | |
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starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bodyguards
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| n.保镖，卫士，警卫员( bodyguard的名词复数 ) | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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buffoon
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| n.演出时的丑角 | |
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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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get-together
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| n.(使)聚集；(使)集合 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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coverage
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| n.报导，保险范围，保险额，范围，覆盖 | |
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folder
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| n.纸夹，文件夹 | |
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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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savaged
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| （动物）凶狠地攻击（或伤害）( savage的过去式和过去分词 )； 残害； 猛烈批评； 激烈抨击 | |
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scamper
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| v.奔跑，快跑 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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yarns
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| n.纱( yarn的名词复数 )；纱线；奇闻漫谈；旅行轶事 | |
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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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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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practitioner
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| n.实践者，从事者；(医生或律师等)开业者 | |
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survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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eyewitness
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| n.目击者，见证人 | |
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contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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lawsuit
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| n.诉讼，控诉 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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concessions
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| n.（尤指由政府或雇主给予的）特许权( concession的名词复数 )；承认；减价；（在某地的）特许经营权 | |
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persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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bias
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| n.偏见，偏心，偏袒；vt.使有偏见 | |
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defendant
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| n.被告；adj.处于被告地位的 | |
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toxic
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| adj.有毒的，因中毒引起的 | |
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geologist
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| n.地质学家 | |
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aquifer
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| n.含水土层 | |
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autopsies
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| n.尸体解剖( autopsy的名词复数 )；验尸；现场验证；实地观察 | |
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pesticides
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| n.杀虫剂( pesticide的名词复数 )；除害药物 | |
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charlatans
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| n.冒充内行者，骗子( charlatan的名词复数 ) | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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undue
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| adj.过分的；不适当的；未到期的 | |
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punitive
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| adj.惩罚的，刑罚的 | |
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negligence
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| n.疏忽，玩忽，粗心大意 | |
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outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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pastor
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| n.牧师，牧人 | |
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whatsoever
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| adv.（用于否定句中以加强语气）任何；pron.无论什么 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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steadfastly
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| adv.踏实地，不变地；岿然；坚定不渝 | |
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grilled
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| adj. 烤的, 炙过的, 有格子的 动词grill的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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decomposed
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| 已分解的，已腐烂的 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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blatantly
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| ad.公开地 | |
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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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perjury
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| n.伪证；伪证罪 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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subpoena
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| n.（法律）传票；v.传讯 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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vehemently
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| adv. 热烈地 | |
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71
harassment
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| n.骚扰，扰乱，烦恼，烦乱 | |
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72
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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