BRENT’S CASE IS ALL WET
By Jason Maddon
If you want a lawyer who can think on her feet, look no further than Tish McKenna.
The attorney for Cynthia Riggs took a comment made by Judge Rebecca Winston and turned it into what might be the signature moment of the Brent Industries trial. After the judge warned reporters that any cell phone which rang during the trial would end up in her water pitcher, McKenna wrapped up her opening argument by dropping Brent Industries’ signature product into her own pitcher while calling it stolen merchandise.
And during day one of the most high profile trials of the year, the item remained underwater, like a wet elephant in the room.
While McKenna declined comment at the end of the day, legal analysts all agreed that her action set the tone for the trial. “It sucked the air out of the room,” said law Professor Henry Jordan. “She basically created a visual for the national boycott, showing that Americans are throwing away Brent Industries as a company they support. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. And what makes it more amazing is that she obviously came up with it on the fly.”
Court Channel senior commentator Ed Harrison agreed. “Nothing says you’re disgusted with a technology product more than dropping a two hundred dollar device into water. Even more impressive than simply throwing it in a wastebasket. How she came up with that out of a throwaway line by the judge is incredible. That image is now seared into the brain of everyone who saw it. It will be hard for opposing counsel to get those optics out of the minds of the jurors.”
The rest of the day was almost anti-climactic, as McKenna paraded a batch of witnesses who gave glowing testimonials of Riggs as a brilliant inventor, manager and a person. Peter Brent’s attorney, Spencer Capshaw, had little to gain through cross examination, and is obviously saving his attacks for Ms. Riggs, scheduled to take the stand today. He also declined comment at the end of the day.
Notable was that Ms. McKenna fished the device out of the pitcher at the end of the day, dried it off, and put it in her purse. Will it return on day two? Inquiring minds want to know.
Spencer couldn’t help but laugh as he passed the newsstand.
The front page of every newspaper featured a photo of the device sitting in the water pitcher. The headlines jumped out in bold type.
Splish, Splash. Brent’s Takin’ a Bath… in Court
Attorney Gives Brent Cold Shower
Brent’s Case Takes a Dive
He headed for Benny’s cart, not seeing Tish and wondering what she might say if she happened to show up. Then again, she seemed so terrified of the media catching them in the same place, it was doubtful she would drop by at all.
Benny spotted him and studied his face. “You okay, Spence?”
“Yeah. Day two in hell.”
“So I read. Brilliant strategy on her part, droppin’ the thing in the water.”
“She’s an incredible lawyer, Benny. Has she, uh, been by today?”
“Yeah, trailed by about a dozen reporters. So we didn’t have a chance to talk.”
“How did she act?”
“Not at all like the woman we know. Honestly, she had a look that made me want to call a priest.”
“The woman is passionate about her work.”
“You’re worried this is going to be a problem, aren’t you?”
“It already is. Just when the relationship was really rolling it has to come to a screeching halt. It’s like getting an ice cold shower, then having to sit ten feet away from her all day and not be able to talk to her.”
“You can pick up where you left off after the trial is over.”
“I hope so, Benny. I keep thinking about a trial I had years ago when I went up against a good friend. Things got ugly in court and he hasn’t spoken to me since.”
“Guess he wasn’t that good of a friend. Tish will be okay. Besides, I have her ear. Don’t worry, this will all be over and you two can have a nice Christmas together. Speaking of which, you got a gift for her?”
“I have several but not sure which one to give her. Everything went on the back burner when I got stuck with this trial. And now I’m not even sure what to do as far as a present is concerned.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, sometimes a woman can get scared off if the gift is too extravagant. I wouldn’t want to give her anything that would be too much. Or seem like I’m moving too fast.”
“I don’t think that’s possible, Spence. I think you’re old enough to know if your feelings are real. And how she feels about you.”
“It’s how she’ll feel about me after the trial that worries me.”
*
Spencer glanced at the clock as he chatted with the bailiff, having already run the gauntlet of media people outside the courthouse and in the hallway. He’d also arrived early, not wishing to be seen walking in with Peter Brent. While guilt by association was inevitable, giving the television cameras a little less might soften the blow.
The bailiff suddenly looked over Spence’s shoulder. “Buh-dum. Buh-dum.”
Spencer furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”
“Bum bum bum bum… buh da daaaaaahhhhhh!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He cocked his head toward the door. “Great white shark at twelve o’clock. Jaws has entered the building.”
He turned and saw Tish power-walking side by side with her client, head held high as her heel clicks echoed off the ancient white marble floor. She locked eyes with him but did not offer a smile or even the slightest bit of recognition. He opened the gate for them. “Good morning, Ms. McKenna. Ms. Riggs.”
She gave him a slight nod. “Morning, Mr. Capshaw.” Her client said nothing and looked away.
Peter Brent gave Spencer a gentle elbow at one minute to nine. “She put the thing back in the water.” He pointed at the pitcher in front of Tish.
Sure enough, Tish had brought the viral image back into the courtroom for a return engagement. Spencer shrugged. “Whatever. That trick is already played.”
“It looks bad. Ask the judge to make her take it out.”
“I’m not—”
“I’m paying your firm a fortune. I want you to ask for it to be removed. Either that or I’ll stand up and do it myself.”
“And you’ll piss off the judge. She got no tolerance for that kind of stuff.”
“I don’t care. Either you do it or I will. And if you don’t I’ll tell the media that you’re not adequately representing me.”
Spencer exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll bring it up.”
“Damn right you will. Remember, you work for me.”
Judge Winston brought the room to order at precisely nine o’clock. “Good morning everyone. Let’s get started. Ms. McKenna, call your next witness.”
Spencer stood up. “Your honor, before we begin today, may I bring up one point of order.”
“Yes, Mr. Capshaw?”
“It has been brought to my attention that opposing counsel has placed the product central to this case back in her water pitcher. I think she made her point yesterday as evidenced by the fact a photo is on the front page of just about every newspaper in America. I would respectfully ask the court to direct Ms. McKenna to remove it.”
The judge turned, slid her glasses down to the end of her nose and looked at the pitcher, then Tish. “Ms. McKenna, I believe Mr. Capshaw has a point in that you’ve made yours. Either remove it from the pitcher, or I’d better see you drinking some water from said pitcher.”
Tish nodded, reached into the pitcher with two fingers and removed the device. “No problem, your honor.” She slightly turned her head and glared at Spencer.
Brent smiled and leaned toward Spencer, whispering in his ear. “See, it worked. Just do as you’re told.”
*
Tish took the entire morning with Cynthia Riggs on the witness stand telling her story. Since she finished up just before noon, Judge Winston called for the lunch recess till one-thirty.
Spencer spent his entire lunch hour in the courtroom going over his notes. But mostly because he didn’t want to be anywhere near Peter Brent and had no desire to face the media, which Brent was happy to accommodate at every opportunity.
At one-thirty sharp the judge entered the courtroom as the witness returned to the stand. “Your turn, Mr. Capshaw.”
“Thank you, your honor.” He got up and approached the witness, noting she had a white knuckle grip on her chair while the color had drained from her face. “Ms. Riggs, are you okay?”
“I’m really nervous. I’m sorry, but I’m shy and this is the first time I’ve ever been a witness.”
“Well, nothing to apologize for. Take a breath, try to relax and take a drink of water. We’re just going to have a conversation, okay. I’m not going to attack you. You’re not Jack Nicholson and I’m not Tom Cruise yelling at you. You’re Cynthia and I’m Spencer and this is not a court-martial.”
The room filled with chuckles as the woman smiled and relaxed a bit, then took a drink of water. “Thank you.”
“Okay, since we’ve already established that you’re the inventor of the product and the defendant does not dispute that, we don’t need to go over all that again. So let’s talk about the whole basis of this lawsuit, work product.” He handed her the sheet of paper. “I just gave you a standard Brent Industries contract. Is that your signature at the bottom?”
She looked at it. “Yes.”
He started walking around the courtroom, then leaned casually on Tish’s desk. He saw her glare at him in his peripheral vision. “Would you please read paragraph four for the jury. Just the first line will be fine.”
“Sure. It says, anything produced while under the employ of Brent Industries is the property of Brent Industries.”
“And by signing that contract when you first started working there, you agreed to that, correct?”
“Yes, but—”
“A yes or no is fine, Cynthia.”
“I’m so sorry. Yes.”
“Again, you’re new at this, so nothing to apologize for. We’re just having a polite conversation.”
“Sure.”
“Okay. Now, would you agree that you were under the employ of Brent Industries when you came up with the idea for this product?”
“Yes, but—”
“I just need a yes or no, so the yes was fine. And would you agree that you were under the employ of Brent Industries during the time you developed the product. Just a yes or no will suffice, Cynthia.”
“Objection!” Tish stood up.
Judge Winston furrowed her brow as she looked at Tish. “What exactly are you objecting to, Ms. McKenna?”
“I would appreciate it if Mr. Capshaw would refer to my client as Ms. Riggs instead of acting like her friend and calling her Cynthia. He represents Peter Brent, who is definitely not her friend.”
Spence nodded. “I apologize, your honor, and Ms. Riggs. I was trying to put the witness at ease.”
“And I would appreciate it if he would lean on something other than my desk,” said Tish.
Spence stood up. “Not a problem.” He moved toward the jury box and leaned on the rail. “How’s this?” He turned to the jury. “Do you guys have a problem with me over here?” He smiled at the jury and a few of them laughed. The transit worker slapped his thigh, and Spence couldn’t help but notice the guy wore a gorgeous watch. Guess he blows all his salary on jewelry.
“Okay,” said the Judge, “now that we’ve gotten rid of first names and the leaning arrangements, continue, Mr. Capshaw.”
*
Tish stormed past Shelley into her office, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, as she put her briefcase on a chair and started stacking cardboard file boxes next to the bookcase.
Shelley followed her into the office. “Good God, Tish, what happened?”
“I’ll tell you what happened!” She continued stacking boxes. “Spence happened. I cannot believe what he did to my client.”
“So…you’re remodeling?”
“No, I’m blocking access to the air vent so Socks can’t get to him. If he thinks he’s going to spend time with my cat after that stunt he pulled, he’s got another thing coming.”
Shelley moved forward and took her hands. “Hey, calm down. Now take a deep breath, sit down and tell me what happened.”
Tish plopped into the chair behind her desk as she tried to exhale her tension, then picked up Socks and put the cat on her lap. “I spend three hours questioning my client and then after lunch he starts cross-examining her. But he’s polite to her. Calls her Cynthia and gets her to relax. Questions her for about fifteen minutes, never once yelling or acting like a jerk.”
“I guess I’m missing the point. You’re upset because he was respectful to your client and didn’t ask a lot of questions?”
“Any other lawyer would have badgered the hell out of her and worn her down for hours. But he manages to make his point in a very short time. Then, and get this, while he’s questioning her he leans on my desk.”
“Oh, how awful. I can see why you’re so upset.”
“So I object and tell the judge he needs to stop calling her by her first name and lean somewhere else. So he goes over to the jury box, leans on the rail, flashes those big green eyes at the jury and smiles at them. You should have seen the look on this gorgeous twenty-year-old size four sitting in the front row because this is the first time he’s gotten so close to the jury box. She actually licked her lips and looked like she wanted to devour him. Oh, and get this. I put the device back in the water pitcher before we started and he objects first thing and the judge makes me take it out.”
Shelley nodded as she sat across from Tish. “So, let me get this straight. You’re basically upset that your boyfriend did not beat up your client who is already seen as a victim by the entire country. What a lowlife. Meanwhile, in order to punish him for this heinous act you’re suspending visitation rights with your cat.”
Tish sulked and put out her lower lip as she scratched Socks under the chin. “It wasn’t fair. I was expecting him to go after her with both barrels and instead he comes off as sympathetic. The jury likes him more than me.”
“I see. And you really don’t like hot babe jurors lusting after him.”
“You shouldn’t be flirting with the jury.”
“Was he flirting with her?”
“No, he wasn’t looking directly at her, just the whole jury. He’s so damn cute with those gorgeous eyes and that boy-next-door persona I guess she couldn’t resist. And it’s not only her, but all the women on the jury. Even the older ones. It’s like watching a damn episode of The Bachelor.”
“So, recapping for those not scoring at home… You’re so ticked off at a guy who happens to be your boyfriend for being nice to your client and attractive to beautiful women that you are going to deprive your cat from seeing someone she likes.”
Tish looked down at Socks and lowered her voice. “He can get his own cat.”
And then she heard it.
Spence shaking the bag of treats.
Socks perked up and Tish released her. “Go ahead, kitty, but you’re not leaving this office. I’ll get you some treats.” Socks jumped from her lap, ran to the bookcase and was stopped by the tower of boxes. She turned back to Tish and meowed. “Sorry, kitty.”
Socks heard the bag shake again, turned, made an amazing leap to the top box, then jumped down and disappeared into the vent.
“Sonofabitch!”
Shelley couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, cats can jump real high. Who knew?”
*
Spencer had bolted from the courtroom without saying a word to Peter Brent as soon as they had adjourned for the weekend. He sneaked out the back door of the courthouse to avoid the media gauntlet and made it back to his office without being spotted.
He flipped on the TV and saw a video of Brent holding his usual daily news conference as he fed treats to Socks and played with her awhile. The cat took off after twenty minutes so he grabbed his coat to head off to the hospital to visit Ariel.
And walked right into Peter Brent entering his office. Not looking happy.
“We need to talk,” said Brent.
“We can do that before you testify. Right now I’m going to see Ariel and I need to get there before visiting hours are over.” He started out the door.
Brent put his hand on Spencer’s chest, stopping him. “No, we’re going to talk now.”
“Fine, but first take your damn hand off me.” He locked eyes with Brent, giving him a death stare. The man dropped his hand. “What’s your problem now?”
“The way you treated Cynthia Riggs. How the hell did you let her off the hook like that?”
“I didn’t let her off the hook. I got exactly what I wanted from her.”
“She’s a shy, sensitive woman. You should have beat the hell out of her.”
“Right, let’s take cheap shots at a single mother everyone sees as a victim.”
“She’s the victim? I’m the victim!”
“I can think of half a billion reasons why you’re not.”
“I want you to recall her.”
“There’s nothing left to ask. And that’s not your call.”
“I’m paying you—”
Spencer got in his face. “You either back off and let me handle this case my way or your wife is going to know about your affair.”
The color instantly drained from Brent’s face and his eyes grew wide.
Spencer flashed him a sinister grin. “Yeah, how about that, I actually vet my clients. So unless you want your wife to end up with two hundred and fifty million dollars and your favorability ratings to sink even lower, you will get off my case, stop telling me how to be a lawyer, shut the hell up and you will do what you’re told in that courtroom. Am I clear?”
Brent slowly nodded. “Very.”
“And by the way, for what it’s worth, you’re about the sleaziest damn client I’ve ever had—and that’s saying something. Now get the hell out of my office, be at the courthouse at eight and in the meantime don’t even think about calling me tonight.”
*
Ariel muted the TV as she saw Spencer walk into her room. “I already heard from him right after things recessed, so I don’t need the recap.”
“From who?”
“Your least favorite client. He’s not happy.”
“He’s really not happy now.”
“Why, what happened?”
“He was ticked off that I didn’t go hard after Cynthia Riggs.”
“Right, he talked my ear off about that.”
“But he won’t be any more trouble now. I’m basically blackmailing him to get him to shut up.”
She leaned up on one elbow. “Okay, this oughta be good.”
“I told him if he didn’t let me handle the case without his interference that I would tell his wife about his affair.”
Ariel’s eyes widened. “No kidding, he’s cheating on Martha?”
“No, I just took a shot that he was. You’d told me his wife was a shrew and Kayla brought me a whole bunch of photos from that corporate trip with him surrounded by bikinis, so I put two and two together. Shoulda seen his face when I told him. He went white as a ghost.”
“Damn, remind me never to play poker with you.”
“Hey, a guy who’s nearly a billionaire with a wife he can’t stand on vacation with a bunch of bimbos hanging all over him. It wasn’t exactly a stretch.” Spence shook his head. “Still, the guy acts like he’s bulletproof. Something’s not right. And I need to figure out what it is.”