TO WIT: POOR BABY
It had to happen sooner or later. I mean, we've been together five years, three of them as partners, and sooner or later she was going to lose a case. We had a long run of good luck since we've been together, and so when the inevitable finally occurred, she took it badly.
I have to accept most of the responsibility for this. I got her two used to winning. Today, we've tried all our cases together. It has been a remarkable symbiosis. She's relied on me for my expertise in these matters, my 30 years of experience, my Kenny instincts, asking the right questions, making the right arguments, and I relied on her and her youthful vigor to remember what day it is, what courtroom were in and what's the first name of our client.
Here, we had not lost a single case. As a result, the possibility of losing simply had not occurred to her at all. Oh, there was that one trial when our key witness suffered and acute attack of aphasia on the witness stand. First, she got her name wrong. Then when I asked her when the key Vente card, she got the date wrong. She got the century wrong too.
We did not prevail in that matter, but that wasn't so much a loss. In fact, I have come to consider the whole thing pretty much a draw.
But this particular case was the perfect case for her to go solo —-a rear-end collision, uncontested liability, only an issue of damages. So when it first appeared on the trial list, I told her she could try this case alone.
"Oh, I'm not sure I'm ready, " she replied as small rivulets of sweat began to congregate on her furrowed brow.
“Of course you are,” I replied. “We’ve tried a half dozen cases together; you know what to do; your’e ready.”
"Oh, I'm not sure I'm ready, " she replied.
“Oh, come on, it's like you're the baby Bird I'm the mama Bird and you need a little push to get out of the nest.”
“Yeah, well, why don't you just shove worms down my throat,” she said, not quite softly enough under her breath.
But the matter was settled. she would be fine. Opposing counsel was a first gentleman who would not take advantage of her modest experience, unless it was really helpful to his case, and I promised her I would sit with her during trial to help her if the unlikely need arose.
Right before trial, the defense offered $15,000. “Turn it down,” I instructed her," “it's worth more than that.”
Now, I am one of those of those attorneys who think that cases of this sort are one or lost and voir dire. Admittedly, we don't get to ask a lot of questions, none actually, but if the years have taught me anything, it's that you can learn a lot about a potential juror by studying him or her.
“Take the Pakistani,” I whispered to her.
“It says here on the sheet that he works for an insurance company,” she protested.
"Yeah, but he doesn't like it. Look at the expression on his face; that's the look of an unhappy employee. Take him.”
“Should I strike the nurse?” she asked.
“No way. She’lll understand the heartbreak of soft-tissue injury better than anyone.”
“But is says here she’s in obstetrics.”
“Perfect.” I replied.
As the judge made his introductory remarks to the impaneled jury, I studied each one of them like a hawk. "Take off your wedding band before you open, " I counseled her, "and wink at juror No. 7 during your opening. “
“Jeez, isn’t he the minister?”
“Yeah, but he’s also single.”
I thought her opening was terrific. I had cautioned her to keep it short to the point. OK, maybe 15 seconds was too short, but still, I think she got their attention.
“Listen, I said as the videotape deposition of defendants doctor began, “I want you to snicker occasionally throughout his testimony, and when he gets to the part where he says he could find nothing wrong with your client, I want you to guffaw”
“Listen,” I said as she got up to start her closing—but she put her hand forcefully over my mouth. I took that to me and she was starting to feel her oats and really wanted to go it alone. Good for her.
Her closing was wonderful. OK, so she didn't use the word '“liar” as often as I would have. In fact, I don't think she used it at all. But she was cogent, compelling and concise, and when she sat down, I gave her a well-deserved pat on the back.
I took a piece of paper from the table, wrote “$75,000” on it, folded it and put it in her pocket. “Look at this after the jury comes back,” I said knowingly.
I don't know what happened. The jury gave our client $100. We conducted a postmortem with some jurors, and it turns out that was a compromise. Both the nurse and the Pakistani wanted to give him nothing at all. But, to a person, they all agreed that they have given him nothing but for her wonderful closing.
Well, as I said, she was devastated. “Oh now, don't take it so badly,” I said. “I know this hurts now, but someday when you've had as much experience as I've had, you'll be much better at this, you really will.”
Now if I can only get back that piece of paper.
©2001 S. Sponte, Esq.