Legally Wasted (32 page)

“Thank you, Ms. Meeks,” said Larkin.  He
looked to Wendy.  “I have no further questions for this
witness.”

“Ms. McAdams?” asked the Judge. 
“Questions?”

“None.” Wendy scribbled some notes on her
legal pad.

“Aww!” said Ryan as she made her way down
from the stand before the Judge had even excused her.  “You
could have asked me
something
!” She winked at Larkin before
heading back to the gallery to sit with her mother.

“Your call, Mr. Monroe.”

“I call . . . Justice Lloyd Byrd, your
Honor.”  The courtroom buzzed with excitement. 

“Calm down, everyone,” said the Judge, “or
I’ll remove every single person from this room.”  Judge Wexler
had more or less allowed the tittering during the Meeks family
revue, but with Justice Byrd entering the show, a new tone was
needed. She whispered into the deputy clerk’s ear again and after a
full minute, the doors opened and Justice Byrd walked briskly into
the courtroom. His countenance appeared deadly serious, his face
carved of granite.

“Please approach the witness stand, Justice
Byrd,” said the Judge.  “Do you promise to tell the truth, the
whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”  The
Justice gave the federal Judge a peculiar look before answering
“yes.”  He took his seat.

“Please state your name for the record,” said
Larkin.

“I am Lloyd Harrison Byrd, III, Justice of
the Supreme Court of Virginia.”

“As a Justice of the Supreme Court,” said
Larkin, “are you appropriated a staff?”

“Yes.”

“Can you describe your staff to the
court?”

The Justice sighed.  “Yes.  I’m
presuming that your question was not engineered to provoke a list
seriatim
of my support staff, but rather that of my judicial
clerks.”

Larkin raised his eyebrows and nodded. 
“Uh, yes, your Honor.”

“I have, or I had, two law clerks.  Each
Justice may select two law clerks to assist in legal research and
so forth.  This year I had been working with Anthony Swain and
Alex Jordan.”

“And Ms. Jordan was killed recently, isn’t
that correct?”

Wendy stood as if to object to Larkin’s
leading question, but the basilisk glare from Justice Byrd sent her
back to her seat. She leaned forward from her chair and stared at
the Justice, utterly confused.

“Yes,” he said sadly.  “She was
murdered.  Her body was found at the lake.  A beautiful
and talented young person.”

“A tragedy,” said Larkin.

“The greatest kind,” said the Justice.

“Are you familiar with the case of
Bedford
County v. Tans-Appalachian Rail
?”

“Yes.  It involves the creation of a
large train terminal in Bedford.  The court,” the Justice
turned to Judge Wexler, “the
supreme
court,” he said as he
looked at Judge Wexler, “was split on this case.”

“Who was charged with writing the
opinion?”

“I have that charge,” said the Justice.

“Did you have your law clerks help you with
this case?”

“Initially, the case was sent to Alex for a
draft opinion.  She drafted an opinion and provided it to me
for my review. But she was killed before we ever discussed her
work.  I then assigned the work to Mr. Swain.”

“Your Honor,” said Larkin, “at this time I
would like the bailiff to publish to the witness the two draft
opinions that have already been filed with this Court.”  The
Judge nodded and handed the draft opinions to the bailiff. 
The bailiff placed them in front of Justice Byrd.  “Are these
the opinions that your law clerks created?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you stole these from my house. 
You smashed my Stickley roll top.”

“Apologies, your Honor.”

“For what?” asked Judge Wexler.

“Oh,” said Larkin, “not you, Judge. 
Apologies to the Justice for smashing his roll top.”

“Which one did Alex write?” asked Larkin.

“This one,” said Justice Byrd as he held up
the smaller opinion.

“What is the result of that opinion?”

The Justice sighed again. He looked to Judge
Wexler for a moment.  “I was having difficulty weighing this
one.  I truly was.  The issues were complicated. 
But Alex drafted this very simple opinion that clearly advocated
for the County.”

“I see,” said Larkin.  “And the
other?”

“The other Anthony wrote.  He expressed
great disdain to me for initially assigning the case to Alex. 
When I asked him to supplement her work, he gave me this.” He
tapped his long finger against the larger opinion.

“What is the end result of that opinion, your
Honor? The one that Anthony Swain wrote.”

“It’s for the railway.  I had initially
leaned toward the railway, but Alex’s logic was both persuasive and
coherent.  After I read her work . . . it was difficult to
make the call.”

“Would it be safe to say that you were on the
fence?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” said the
Justice.

Christ
, thought Larkin. Time to speak
lawyer. “Would it be safe to say that your final decision was
pending, under advisement, until further analysis?”

The Justice paused. “I would say that.”

“So you were on the fence,” said Larkin, but
he asked his next question too quickly and the Justice could not
respond to his remark.  “Do you see the written words on the
back of Alex’s draft opinion?”

The Justice flipped the document over. 
“Yes.”

“Is that Alex Jordan’s handwriting?”

“Yes.  I’ve seen it many times.”

“What does that language say?”

“It says ‘Trans-App Atty’s: Havish Cromwell –
BIG BNS.’”

“Who were the attorneys representing the
railroad in this case?”

“Havish Cromwell,” said the Justice. 
“New York office.”

“So, the law firm of Havish Cromwell had been
retained to make sure that the Supreme Court would allow this
multi-million dollar rail station to be constructed in
Bedford?”

The Justice nodded.  “Yes.”

“You currently have a home at Smith Mountain
Lake, don’t you, your Honor?”

“I do.”

“Do you have a security system in place?”

“Yes, I do. I pay for a very nice security
system at my home.”

“Does this system have a pass code?”

“Yes it is does.”

“And does Mr. Anthony Swain - -”

“Both of my law clerks know the pass code,”
said the Justice. “I frequently do work out there in the summer
months and it is necessary from time to time to have my law clerks
enter my property.”

“Thank you, Justice,” said Larkin, “I don’t
have anything - -”

“Aren’t you forgetting something,
counselor?”

Larkin paused.  “Am I?”

“Yes,” said the Justice.  “Ask me about
the letters, ‘BIG BNS.’”

Larkin turned and looked at Wendy, but both
she and everyone else in the room seemed frozen.  “Do you know
what that language means?” Larkin asked. 

“Yes” replied the Justice.  “Now ask me
how.”

“How?”

“After we spoke earlier today, I had a
conversation with an attorney from Havish Cromwell.  I wanted
to confirm the bonus structure being offered to Anthony
Swain.  It seems that Mr. Swain had been hired by Havish
Cromwell, a fact that I did not know when I asked for his
assistance on this case.  Mr. Swain never reported that to
me.  I also learned that Mr. Swain was to be given a $175,000
bonus.”

“You learned all of that with a phone call in
the last few minutes?” asked Larkin.

“It helps when your title is Justice.”

“I see,” said Larkin.  “Is that amount,”
Larkin looked to the Judge, “$175,000” he repeated before turning
back to the Justice, “out of line for a normal clerkship
bonus?”

“Far out of line,” said the Justice.

Larkin turned to the prosecutor’s
table.  “Questions, Ms. McAdams?”

Wendy slowly stood and shook her
head. 

“You are excused, Justice Byrd.”  The
Justice elegantly stood, straightened his suit coat and departed
the stand.

“Any more evidence, Mr. Monroe?”

“Yes, your Honor.  I call Anthony
Swain.”

“Marshals,” announced the Judge, “I would
like two of you to personally escort Mr. Swain to this witness
stand.”

“Yes, sir,” one of the Marshals
enthusiastically replied before double-timing into the lobby. 
He came back a moment later with his large hands securely wrapped
around the left arm of Anthony Swain.  Like Ryan had just
described, his cheeks shone bright red.  His thick glasses
fogged as if he had stepped into a sauna.

The Judge gave Anthony the oath and his
“yes,” was so soft, it was barely audible.  Anthony stared
around the courtroom.  His eyes fixated on the cameras.

“Take a seat, Mr. Swain,” said the
Judge.  Anthony complied.  He clasped his hands together
tightly and breathed heavily.

“Mr. Swain,” said Larkin.  “Do you
currently work for Justice Byrd on the Supreme Court of
Virginia?”

“I . . . yes I do.”

“And do you currently have a job offer with
Havish Cromwell in New York?”

“You’re under oath, Mr. Swain,” said the
Judge as Anthony cleaned his glasses.

“I would like a lawyer,” said Anthony. “No. I
demand a lawyer.”

“This is,” said the Judge and Larkin
simultaneously, but Larkin let the Judge finish, “a civil matter.
Not a criminal matter.”

“I have been given an offer, yes,” said
Anthony under his breath.

“What was that?” asked Larkin.

“Yes,” stated Anthony.

“Did Alex Jordan know about this offer?”

Anthony remained quiet.

“Did Alex Jordan confront you about
this?  Did Alex Jordan discover that you had agreed to a
$175,000 payout and a job if you could get the Judge on the
railroad’s side?  Did you kill Alex Jordan?”

Anthony looked at the cameras. His cheeks
shone crimson. “I want a lawyer,” he said after far too long. He
bowed his head. “I need to take the Fifth,” he finally
said. 

“Why?” demanded Larkin. “We’re talking about
a job you applied for, right? Just what would you be incriminated
of if you kept talking?”

Larkin stood still. Anthony placed his hands
over his face. His body shook as if he had begun to cry. The throng
of people seated on the edge of their benches behind Larkin
remained still. The whole room seemed to hold its breathe.

“I take the Fifth,” said Anthony.

“This is a civil case,” said Larkin, “not a
criminal one. If you take the Fifth in a civil matter, the Judge is
allowed to draw a negative inference from your lack of
testimony.”

Anthony’s body raised and sank rapidly with
his breath. “I take the Fifth.”

Larkin could find nothing else to say.

Judge Wexler stood and somehow a woman who
seemed barely five feet tall towered over the entire room. She
scowled at Anthony. “I know what crime he committed. You did this?”
she asked as her right hand jutted outward, her index finger
stabbing the air. “You committed murder for a job?”

Anthony looked up. His eyes watered. “I . .
.”

“I know,” said the Judge. “You took the
Fifth. Ms. McAdams?”

“Yes?” she asked. She was too stunned to even
stand.

“I presume you will want to drop the charges
against Mr. Monroe and Mr. Meeks?” Wendy looked at Larkin. The
glare of the overhead lights shone upon her glasses and for a
moment, it was impossible to tell her true expression. But her face
soon shifted back to the Judge and it was clear that her eyes were
wide, her mouth frozen in bewilderment. “And your answer is yes,”
said the Judge. “Do I have that on the record, Ms. McAdams?” Wendy
nodded. The Judge looked down at her clerk. “Let the record reflect
that the Commonwealth of Virginia is dismissing all charges against
Mr. Monroe and Mr. Meeks.”

The sounds of tiny frenzied hands punctuated
the courtroom. Larkin turned to see Ryan standing on the tips of
her toes applauding furiously. Others followed suit.

“I further direct,” said the Judge over the
rising applause, “that the United States Marshal Service release
Mr. Meeks and Mr. Monroe from custody and take Mr. Swain into
custody pending charges.” She raised her hand to her brow and
searched the gallery. Kincaid raised his hand and the Judge nodded.
The applause grew. “All separated witnesses may return to the
courtroom if they wish,” stated the Judge although no one could
hear her.

Two Marshals grabbed Anthony beneath his
armpits. His legs hung limp as they hauled him through the back
door into the holding area. As the door swung open, those nearest
the door could hear Trevor laughing at the sight of Anthony. Trevor
soon reappeared, unescorted, in the doorway. The applause was
deafening. Trevor waved to his constituents. He approached Larkin
and grabbed his friend’s right hand. Like a referee after a
championship bout, he raised Larkin’s right hand high in the air.
Everyone in the Court was on their feet. The applause
continued.

The double doors leading to the lobby opened
and Madeline stepped into the courtroom. Upon seeing the crowd of
cheering people, she retreated a step before locking eyes with
Larkin. Her hand cupped her mouth.

“Come on!” shouted Trevor to the crowd. “Let
him hear it!” He jerked Larkin’s arm even higher. The cameras
rolled as people laughed and cheered. Ryan squealed. Larkin stepped
away from Trevor and, unhindered by the U.S. Marshals Service,
pushed open the wooden gate bisecting the courtroom. Madeline met
him halfway, tears filled her eyes. Larkin hugged his wife.

“Monroe and Monroe,” said the secretary into
the phone. “Do you need to be directed to the real estate office or
the law office?”

Larkin listened to his secretary ask the same
question he had heard her ask for the past several months. Part of
him knew that efficiency and productivity demanded separate phone
lines for the businesses. But the thought of sharing so much of his
life with Madeline made him hesitate to get the second phone line.
He twisted his chair and looked out the floor to ceiling window.
The sun hung low in the sky and Big Lick’s star shone brightly atop
the nearby mountain.