THE STATUS CONFERENCE HAD BEEN moved to the largest courtroom in the federal courthouse. Apparently, Jordyn Duarte would speak for all the plaintiffs, but all the interested parties had insisted on their counsel’s presence in the courtroom, costing the consortium more than a pretty penny. The government never shows up in court without a cadre of lawyers, paralegals, and assistants. The poor defendant, David Ruple, had yours truly and his paralegal, Brian. Duke was a no-show when the marshal called us to the bar. I was surprised to see that the gallery was empty; I was soon to learn why.
The judge entered the courtroom with a flourish. Before I could object to my client having to wear the orange jumpsuit and shackles in court, Jordyn was on her feet to address the court.
“Your Honor, thank you for closing this hearing to the press and public. Several of our clients would have liked to be here in person, but they appreciate the sensitive nature of these two cases. I believe you have already reviewed the motion and brief filed by the U.S. government about how this case is critical to this country’s national security.” It wasn’t a question.
Normally I would have immediately stood to object to a motion that was filed without my receiving a copy or having a chance to respond. But since I was supposed to be throwing the case, I didn’t.
Jordyn proceeded as if I weren’t even in the room. “Your Honor, normally when both a civil and criminal case arise out of the same set of facts, the criminal case takes priority. However, for reasons outlined in my motion, I suggest we go to trial on the civil case first. Mr. Stanford has authorized me to say that the U.S. government has no objection.”
The judge queried, “Is that true?”
‘It is, Your Honor. These cases are essentially the same in nature; it matters not who proceeds first.”
The old me would be screaming bloody murder. There is almost no circumstance in which a civil case should take precedence over a criminal case. Fifth amendment rights were the first and foremost reason for objecting. When the judge asked me if I had anything to say, I replied meekly that I had no objection. Both the judge and my client, neither of whom had any idea what was happening, looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
At that very moment, I was saved by the bell. Or should I say, saved by a cowboy.
Duke shouted from the back of the courtroom, “I object, Your Honor.”
Almost in unison, the judge, Jordyn, and Stanford spouted, “Who are you?”
“Duke Madigan, Your Honor. I represent the defendant’s mother, Gloria Ruple. Earlier this afternoon I filed a motion to intervene on her behalf in the civil case pending before this court. My client has an economic interest in the intellectual property at issue. Moreover, she has no confidence that Mr. Patterson has either the qualifications or expertise to protect my client’s interest. His failure to object to what Ms. Duarte has requested is clear evidence of his incompetence.”
Duke walked through the rail and over to our table with a swagger, pulled up a chair and gave me a wink. The judge looked at Jordyn to rescue him.
“Your Honor, we’re not privy to Mr. Madigan’s filing or whether it has any merit. I suggest that Mr. Madigan be allowed to sit with Mr. Patterson on this side of the rail, but that we proceed without his participation until you’ve ruled on his motion.”
Judge Moorman was upset that the script had been altered, but he recovered well.
“Mr. Madigan. Once all the parties have had an opportunity to review your motion and file a response, I will rule on it in a timely fashion. You may sit at the defendant’s table, but I suggest you limit your participation unless and until I say otherwise. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself escorted out of the courtroom. One last thing: I expect you to appear before this court in proper attire. Jeans and a string tie may be appropriate in a beer hall, but not in my courtroom. Do you understand?”
I couldn’t help but wonder if he was as old and stodgy as he sounded. I’d figured him to be about forty-five, but his testy voice sounded much older.
Even Duke knew he had overstepped. His meek response of “Yes, Your Honor” was all he could say. Now came Duarte’s next surprise.
“Your Honor, for reasons set forth in our motion we suggest an expedited trial. There is no need for discovery. My clients will expedite any document request the defendant might make.”
“We concur, Your Honor,” Stanford announced. It was disheartening to hear the Justice Department concur in this railroad job.
The judge looked at me. “I suppose we should get your input, Mr. Patterson.”
I wanted to scream, “Get my input?” We had been given no opportunity for discovery, were facing a criminal indictment, and had yet to even see the various motions filed by Jordyn and the government. I took a minute to think maybe the rush to judgment could play into my hands.
Hans wasn’t present, but I think even he would have been surprised to hear me say, “No objection, Your Honor. We are ready for trial whenever you empanel the jury.”
I had just thrown the first grenade into my opponent’s carefully orchestrated strategy. I felt sure that asking for a jury trial would catch Jordyn, Stanford, and the judge off guard. Any reasonably competent lawyer would want the court to try a complex intellectual property case. They had forgotten that I wasn’t supposed to be a competent lawyer. I was a lawyer who had been told to do his best to lose the case.
Duke interrupted again. My opinion of him was beginning to change.
“Your Honor, why the rush to judgment? My motion to intervene is still pending. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Mr. Patterson simply wants to collect his fee and head off into the sunset. We need months if not years of discovery, depositions, and motions.”
Normally I would have been outraged by Duke’s characterization of my motives, but he was doing a bang-up job of convincing anyone who was listening that my client had a fool for a lawyer. I caught Jordyn and Judge Moorman exchanging a furtive look. Neither one wanted this case to drag out for years.
She gave the judge the out he needed.
“Your Honor, my clients want this matter resolved as soon as possible, but Mr. Madigan is entitled to have his motion heard before we go to trial. We can review his motion this afternoon and respond expeditiously. Could the court hold a hearing on his motion this Friday? In the meantime, both parties can work to find trial dates that don’t conflict with anyone’s schedule.”
She was buying time, and probably giving Hans time to pay me a visit. I didn’t want that to happen. Duke rose again to address the court, thankfully giving me a minute to think.
“Your Honor, with all due respect, what she has proposed is outrageous. Mr. Patterson should be on his feet objecting to high heaven. This is a complex intellectual property case that requires the testimony of experts. Mr. Patterson is acting like it’s a fender bender.”
Duke had given me the perfect opportunity.
“Your Honor, now I object. Mr. Madigan has impugned my integrity and thrown doubt on my competence. I know exactly what I’m doing. The plaintiffs claim the software in question belongs to them. So let them prove it. I don’t think Ms. Duarte would have filed her complaint unless she had all her ducks in a row. If she and her clients think the software in question belongs to them, let’s tee it up. If they aren’t ready to prove the software is theirs, they should never have filed the complaint.
“My client is sitting in jail, waiting for justice. If Ms. Duarte and Mr. Stanford want to trade places, I have no objection to slow walking to trial one day. But if Mr. Ruple is to remain behind bars, I demand a quick trial, whether it be the civil or criminal case.
“Moreover, since I’m already standing, how about setting a reasonable bail for my client? He’s no axe murderer.”
The judge looked to Stanford for rescue, and he complied.
“Your Honor, I regret that I may be responsible for the confusion regarding bail. I had hoped Mr. Patterson and I could agree to a reasonable bail, and I told him so. But information has recently come to our attention that confirms Mr. Ruple is a risk to our national security. I fully intended to advise Mr. Patterson that the U.S. government would oppose bail for his client. If he wants a bail hearing, I suggest he file a motion. We will respond, and the court can set a hearing on the matter in due course.”
Suddenly the government wanted to slow walk bail. I wondered why, but I wasn’t going to object. As I had explained to his grandfather, David was safer in jail than out on the streets. However, it was time for me to act the incompetent lawyer again.
“Hogwash, Your Honor.”
“Pardon me,” responded the judge in glacial tones.
“Hogwash. David Ruple is as much a national security risk as I am. Opposing counsel is doing everything she can to slow down the inevitable jury verdict that David’s software belongs to him. If they were so confident about their case, they would consent to Mr. Madigan’s intervention and join me in asking that the court set this matter for a jury trial as soon as possible.”
“Sit down, Mr. Patterson. You are out of order. You are not in charge of the court’s calendar—I am.” Judge Moorman had finally decided to take charge.
“If you want bail for your client, file a motion. If you want a trial, file a motion. Even Mr. Madigan understands that’s how things work in this court. Do you?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I do. May I ask how to get access to my client?”
“File a motion,” the judge repeated. “Speaking of motions, Ms. Duarte I believe you have several motions pending.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Your Honor, my office has not received one motion from Ms. Duarte.”
“May I explain, Your Honor?” she asked.
“I certainly hope so,” Moorman answered, idly flipping through the pages of his calendar.
“As Mr. Stanford has advised the court, we are dealing with a defendant who is a national security risk and computer software that is proprietary. We’ve filed several motions to ensure that matters before this court don’t find their way onto the front page of the Post or in the hands of our nation’s enemies. The court might note that so far there has been no publicity about either the civil or criminal matter.
“We did not want to serve Mr. Patterson with our motions until after this hearing. We’ve asked that he be placed under a gag order. The same will apply to Mr. Madigan, now of course, as well as all other parties involved. We appreciate the court closing the courtroom to the press per our motion.”
I wasn’t concerned about a gag order. I don’t believe in trying one’s case in the press. Duke, on the other hand, loves the cameras. I did wonder what other motions had been filed under seal. I had a feeling I was about to find out.
Duke stood. “Your Honor, may I respond.”
“No, we are going to proceed my way. I am going to rule on the plaintiff’s motions which are all procedural. After you and Mr. Patterson have reviewed the motions, either of you may file a motion to reconsider. I assure you that I will keep an open mind.”
Duke sat down. He knew neither he nor I were going to get anywhere with this toady of a judge.
“First, as to the plaintiff’s motion for a gag order, the motion is granted. The details will follow the recommendations outlined in Ms. Duarte’s motion. The gag order applies to all parties, counsels, and employees of the respective law firms. Let me warn counsel that this court will not look favorably on any breach. What is said and done in this courtroom stays in this courtroom. Am I clear?”
We all heard a surreptitious, “Crystal, Your Honor.”
Even Moorman laughed, clearly tickled by Duke’s movie reference. He waited for the obligatory chuckles to die down. “All pleadings, motions, etc. will be filed under seal. Mr. Madigan, your motion will be sealed, and any other motions or pleadings you wish to file will be as well, even though you aren’t yet a party. The gag order applies to you and your client, as well.”
The train was leaving the station.
“Plaintiff’s motion that Mr. Ruple’s applications for intellectual property protections before the U.S. Copyright Office and the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office be stayed is granted. An order consistent with Ms. Duarte’s motion will be forthcoming and served on Mr. Patterson in due course.
“As per Ms. Duarte’s motion to close the courtroom to the press, my earlier order will remain in place. Only the parties, counsel, and critical law firm employees will be allowed to gain entrance for any reason regarding this case.
“Finally, Mr. Patterson. you have implied that this court is in no hurry to resolve this case. Nothing could be further from the truth. I fully intend to set this case for trial at a time that’s not prejudicial to any party. If you really want me to convene a jury, I expect a motion complete with authority for a jury trial on my desk post haste. This court will not tolerate delay tactics or frivolous motions.”
I thought to myself, “Truth is this court won’t tolerate motions or delays unless the request come from Ms. Duarte or Mr. Sanford.”
Duke nudged me under the table, rose, and asked, “Your Honor, would the court entertain a motion to remove Mr. Patterson as counsel for the defendant? He’s clearly in over his head.”
Moorman had had it up to his ears.
“Until your motion to intervene is granted, this court will not accept or entertain any motion you file, Mr. Madigan.”
With a bang of his gavel, Moorman gathered his robes and left the bench for his chambers.