The judge nodded his head with an exaggerated bobbing motion. “Oh, the ol’ it-just-isn’t-fair objection.” He laughed, and Sokolosky laughed quietly with him. Opportunistic bastard, Ben thought. “I don’t think I’m familiar with that one, Mr. Kincaid. Perhaps I need to reread the Oklahoma Rules of Evidence.” Even Derek got a laugh out of that one.
After the courtroom settled down, the judge returned his attention to Bertha. “Overruled. The witness will answer the question.”
“I don’t remember it,” Bertha said, in a trembling voice.
Sokolosky chirped in to refresh her memory. “I asked you if you can honestly say that Emily has formed a deep attachment to you. Unlike Mr. Kincaid here, I don’t think it would be so outrageous to find that two people who have lived together for nearly a year are fond of one another. Has she ever told you she loves you?”
“No,” Bertha said softly.
“I don’t think the court heard that.”
“No,” she said, much louder, her head turned down. Tears were streaming from her eyes.
“Does she invite other children over to meet you?”
“No.”
“Does she ever wake up in the morning and call your name?”
“Of course not,” Bertha said. “She isn’t able to—”
“Yes or ho, Mrs. Adams.”
Ben steeled himself. “Objection.”
Sokolosky cast a downward glance at Ben. “Again, Mr. Kincaid?”
He knows, Ben thought, glaring across the room at Sokolosky. The bastard. He knows and he won’t let her explain. “Your honor, the witness has a right to explain her answer. The court can’t force her to answer yes or no.
The judge spoke, his voice tinged with irritation. Ben immediately realized it was a mistake to tell the court what it couldn’t do. “This is cross-examination, Mr. Kincaid, not direct. You may recall some discussion of cross-examination in law school. Mr. Sokolosky has the right to ask yes-or-no questions, and when he does, she is obliged to answer them in a like fashion.” He leaned back in his chair. “You’ve already had ample opportunity to develop the facts on direct, Mr. Kincaid.”
Sokolosky didn’t miss a beat. “Mrs. Adams, I repeat: Does Emily ever wake up in the morning and call out your name?”
“No,” Bertha whispered. She was crying full force now. Her makeup was smeared hideously. She was totally broken.
Ben swore silently to himself. The fact was she looked guilty. And incompetent. Like someone who got caught. No one you’d trust a little girl to.
Sokolosky paused yet another significant moment, then said, “I think that’s enough, your honor.”
Judge Mayberry rustled a few papers in his hands. “I am prepared to rule.”
“But, your honor,” Ben said, rising to his feet. “My redirect—”
“Not necessary. I’ve reached a decision.”
“Your honor, I have a right to rehabilitate my witness.”
The judge’s voice rose to a shout. “Son, you don’t have a right to anything! This court sits in equity, and it can do damn near anything it pleases. It’s time for you to cease this whining every time you don’t get your way. You sound like a two-year-old, not an officer of the court.” He mimicked Ben in a squealing voice. “ ‘I have a right, I have a right.’ ” He pointed his finger directly at Ben. “If you’re going to practice law in my court, son, you’re going to have to grow up.”
Ben was frozen in silence.
The judge, took a deep breath. “You have some nerve even protesting this decision, which we all knew damn well was inevitable. Your client has broken every regulation in the book. Feel fortunate I have decided not to issue sanctions, due to her advanced age. I think it’s pretty clear what took place here. I don’t like it a bit, and there’s no law firm in the world big enough to make me think otherwise.”
Bertha, still sitting in the witness’ box, had dissolved into uncontrolled sobs.
“The DHS motion is granted. Bertha Adams’s motion is denied. The child Emily X is to be placed in the custody of the DHS immediately.”
Immediately. Ben was stunned. Emily was practically being ripped from Bertha’s arms.
“Your honor.” A voice came from the back of the courtroom. “My name is Richard Derek. I also represent Mrs. Adams.”
The judge nodded. He was obviously acquainted with Derek.
“Your honor, I understand that your decision is made, and I don’t contest it. But this child has lived in Mrs. Adams’s home nearly a year. All her belongings are there. All her acquaintances are there. Surely it would be more humane to give her a week to make her goodbyes.”
The judge considered this for a moment. He obviously liked the part that implied he would surely act humanely. Derek had a talent for judicial manipulation Ben obviously lacked.
“Very well. The DHS will pick the child up at Mrs. Adams’s place of residence one week from today, nine o’clock in the morning. But I hold you responsible, Mr. Derek, to see that she is there and ready.”
“Understood. Thank you, your honor.”
All parties rose, and the judge left the courtroom. Shakily, Bertha tried to stand and walk away from the witness chair. Ben knew he should help her, but he couldn’t. He could barely help himself. Before Derek came to counsel table to speak to him, he raced out of the courtroom and into the nearest bathroom, where he was sick as he had never been sick before.
25
NO ONE SAID A word as they walked back from the courthouse to the Raven offices. Ben went directly to his office and closed the door. He sat in the chair behind his desk, lights off, not moving a muscle.
After several minutes passed, there was a knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, Derek came in, frowned for a moment, and turned on the lights.
“Don’t worry about reporting to the client,” Derek said. “I’ve already taken care of that.”
“You talked to Emily?”
“I talked to our client, Joseph Sanguine,” Derek answered evenly. “He was sorry we were unsuccessful, but he has realized from the outset that the case was a losing proposition. All in all, I don’t think he was dissatisfied with our services.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Ben muttered under his breath.
Derek plopped a heavy brown file onto Ben’s desk. “Here’s your next assignment. Another Sanguine matter. I’ll be supervising your work, but it’s your baby. Take it and run with it. And feel privileged—this case is a gem. Lots of money at stake. It was originally going to Bryce Chambers.”
Reassigned from Chambers? Ben glanced at the file. Chambers was a senior associate. He’d been with the firm for five or six years. “Why would I get a good case originally designated for Bryce Chambers?”
Derek shrugged. “It was Sanguine’s idea. Maybe he wants to make up for the dog you just tried.”
“What about our appeal?” Ben asked.
“No appeal. What would we appeal anyway? The judge acted within his discretion.”
“Due process violation,” Ben said quickly. “Procedural errors. He denied us the right to redirect—”
“Forget it. You have a right to tell your story and a right to confront those who speak against you. The Constitution doesn’t say anything about the right to redirect.”
“But it’s not fair.” Ben’s voice quavered. “The judge can’t change the rules in the middle of the game. We anticipated the right to redirect.”
“Ben. Let me give you some advice. Don’t dwell on this case. It’s in your best interest. In fact, it’s in everyone’s best interest to simply forget about it. Move on to something else. Better luck next time and all that.” He paused. “And that includes all your cloak-and-dagger stuff. Don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on. It would be different if our client wanted to press the issue. But he doesn’t. He’s ready to move on to something else, and we should be, too.”