Judge Gladys Nicols was a product of poor farming parents. By dint of driving ambition and scalpel-sharp intelligence she had lifted herself to the heights of UNC undergrad and Harvard law. She had returned to the South specifically because she wanted to make a name for herself as a Southern judge. Marcus knew this because she had told him. She made no bones about her ambition. She wanted to stand as a beacon for other young black women. She taught two classes each semester, one in judicial procedure at Duke Law School and the other in civil rights history to Carolina undergrads. She was tough as nails, and if she had a heart of gold she hid it very well.
Logan offered as sincere a smile as his battered features could manage. “May I offer my congratulations on your recent appointment.”
“Thank you.” She waited through the chorus of approval from Logan’s minions, then glanced at her watch and said, “We can adjourn this until after lunch or forge straight ahead.”
“We’re ready to proceed, Your Honor,” Logan responded.
When the judge’s gaze turned his way, Marcus handed her a slim file. “This is our list of requested subpoenas for New Horizons corporate officials.”
The strong features registered surprise. “How many are there?”
“Thirty-six. I realize this is more than the norm-”
“By a factor of ten.”
“Yes, Your Honor. But there are extenuating circumstances. All of the New Horizons board members and senior executives hold joint United States-Swiss residency status.”
That pulled her up short. “All of them?”
“Every one.”
Logan could hold himself back no longer. “That’s perfectly reasonable, Your Honor. New Horizons derives almost 40 percent of total revenue from its international operations. A number of these subsidiaries are incorporated in Switzerland.” He paused for a baleful glare at Marcus. “We continue to object to these proceedings, Your Honor. There has been no connection whatsoever drawn between the plaintiff’s allegations and my clients. We therefore move for a summary dismissal.”
Judge Nicols wore gold-rimmed reading glasses, which she lowered and stared over as she would a rifle scope. “No connection to the plaintiff’s allegations.”
“That is correct, Your Honor.”
“I seem to recall hearing how you told the magistrate there was no connection between your client and the Chinese factory.”
Logan coughed, shuffled his feet. “That happened to be the best of my knowledge at the time, Your Honor.”
The dark gaze continued to hold him. “But now you concur that there exists a relationship between New Horizons and this”-she paused to check her notes-“Factory 101.”
“Yes, Your Honor. A business relationship. They make, we buy. Nothing more.” A swift glance in Marcus’ direction. “Nothing so preposterous as what the plaintiff’s counsel has tried to suggest.”
Judge Nicols turned her attention to Marcus, who countered. “We intend to prove the relationship extends far beyond mere trade agreements, Your Honor. And that New Horizons and Factory 101 did indeed collude to make Gloria Hall and her dangerous investigation vanish. The documents and depositions we have requested will prove this connection.”
The judge’s gun-barrel gaze swiveled back to Logan, who sneered. “These motions are nothing more than a fishing expedition, Your Honor. Mr. Glenwood doesn’t have a thing to offer at this stage, so he wants to go dig through my client’s records to try to come up with some dirt.”
“It seems to me our meeting before the magistrate documented the first level of proof,” Marcus countered.
“Of what,” Logan shot back. “Of sales between a Chinese factory and a U.S. company? Not to mention the fact, Your Honor, that the plaintiff’s evidence consisted of confidential corporate documents. I feel we have a right to know how he got his hands on them.”
Judge Nicols demanded, “Are you so moving?”
Logan’s wince showed he had been fearing that question. Marcus understood why. To say yes meant proceeding beyond the frivolous-claim dismissal. To say no meant putting all his eggs in one basket a second time. Which he could not risk doing. “Yes, Your Honor,” he reluctantly allowed. “We move to question the propriety of these documents. Are there employees illegally involved? Has the plaintiff been in contact with hostile unions?”
“Absolutely not,” Marcus responded.
“Your Honor, we have a videotape of Mr. Glenwood presenting himself at corporate headquarters, claiming to be an attorney representing an unnamed union!”
Marcus shot back, “Does your videotape also show how company employees demolished my vehicle and threatened my life?”
This time Logan’s pain was theatrical. “Your Honor, this is typical of the kind of case this man is trying to bring against us, full of absurd allegations and bald-faced lies.”
“Mr. Glenwood?”
“I wanted to see their reaction. One of the allegations we will prove is a pattern of violent past practices. I wanted to view this for myself.”
She stared at Marcus. Hard. “You went to New Horizons with the intention of deliberately provoking them?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I had not decided whether to take the case. I wanted to see if New Horizons reacted in a manner that would suggest they were capable of kidnapping and severely abusing a young woman.”
“Your Honor, I object! This is just more fiction cooked up by a man desperate for publicity!”
“All right, Mr. Kendall.”
“This is trial by slander, Your Honor.”
“That’s enough, Mr. Kendall. I am turning down your motion to dismiss.” She picked up her pen. “Being new to the job, I find my docket is almost entirely free. I understand the defense is requesting a speedy trial?”
“It’s the only way to halt the plaintiff’s ludicrous plans to drag my client through the mud.”
“I said that was enough.” Mild this time, aware the defense was smarting from the news that the case was headed for the public eye. Her glare was now directed at Marcus, as was the sterner tone. “Mr. Glenwood, this is for the record. I am concerned to see you here, taking up the court’s time with such a matter, acting on your own. Are you sure you are up for this?”
“I think so, Your Honor.”
“Well, I have my doubts. I am very familiar with your background. While I might offer you sympathy outside this courtroom, in these chambers I am bound to uphold the law and the rights of everyone involved.” She leaned across her desk. “So I want you to think very hard about taking on this matter. I would hate to be forced to declare you incompetent.”
Marcus ignored the round-eyed glances among the defense team as best he could. “So would I, Your Honor.”
“If you violate the rules of this court, I will sanction you heavily. If you mishandle the litigants’ rights and claims in any way, I will personally see that your license comes up for review.” She let that sink in a moment, then leaned back and said, “The defense has requested we move forward with this. I agree. Final pretrial hearings will take place tomorrow morning at nine. Trial is set to begin next week. You people are dismissed.”
Marcus made his way slowly toward the door, allowing the defense team to draw well ahead. At the doorway he turned and said quietly, “Thank you very much, Judge.”
Gladys Nicols did not look up from her writing. “Now what do you suppose has got the defense in such an all-fired hurry?”
“I was just asking myself the same thing.”
The judge could very well have been speaking to herself. “Must be something mighty big, whatever it is.”
Marcus nodded and shut the door behind him.
TWENTY-ONE
The telephone call came in the middle of that same afternoon. Marcus bolted from the house, shouting to Netty words he scarcely heard himself as he raced for the car. He hit ninety miles per hour on the Raleigh highway, and made it to the Halls’ subdivision in record time. He parked down the road, as the drive and the street in front of their house were already blocked by gray government sedans.