“This is purely a business offer. I want to hire you, Mr. Haller.”
Wendt reached into his jacket and pulled a folded document out of the pocket.
“Hire me?” I said, trying to hide my surprise.
“This is a two-year contract for your services,” Wendt said. “Two point six million dollars per year for your legal advice on an as-needed basis. You’ll never have to step into a courtroom or be the lawyer of record on any legal action. Just a personal contract between you and me. I hope you will accept it.”
He handed me the document and I unfolded it. I scanned it quickly and immediately understood what it was and what it meant. A high-end buyout.
“You want to make sure I never sue you again,” I said. “Or at least not for the next two years, while you try to resuscitate whatever’s left of your merger after today.”
I started to refold the contract while doing the math.
“Fifty thousand a week to stay on the sidelines,” I said. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Wendt.”
“I can assure you there will be more work than standing on the sidelines,” Wendt said.
I held the contract out to him.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever sue you again,” I said. “I’m sure there will be opportunities, especially after this case. In fact, I’m going to be on CNN tomorrow, and that will probably help get me a few clients. But I can’t take your money, Mr. Wendt. If I did, I think I’d be lost. As a lawyer and as a man.”
He reached out and took the contract. He nodded as he put it back into his inside coat pocket.
“I thought I had to try,” he said. “Is this where you tell me to get the fuck off your porch?”
I nodded.
“Pretty much,” I said. “I’d appreciate it if you would do just that.”
Wendt stood up and glanced out at the view as if seeing it for the first time.
“Sunset should be nice tonight,” he said.
“It usually is,” I said.
He nodded and headed to the steps. He pulled a phone as he went down and I heard him tell someone that he was ready. I stayed out on the porch. I saw a black Escalade pull up, and one of the bodyguards I recognized from the warehouse visit got out and opened a rear door. Wendt got in and I watched the sleek Cadillac glide silently down the hill.
I don’t think I’d ever felt better about turning down money in my life.
50
The saying goes that some days you eat the bear and other days the bear eats you. And sometimes it happens all in the same day. Sometimes the same hour.
I survived the meeting with Judge Ruhlin and four jurors from the case undamaged. The jurors had all been my picks and I had picked well. They told me they had been ready to drop the bricks on Tidalwaiv.
“You had them on the ropes,” said the set builder. “I was ready to lower the boom on them. What they did with that girl was so wrong. And so sad for that mother. The judge says the settlement is kept secret, but I hope they paid her the big bucks.”
I appreciated the comments but knew the jurors had heard only one side of the case. That kept things in perspective, at least for me.
But what made me leave the courthouse feeling like I had eaten the bear happened after the judge excused the jurors. That was when she said the magic words to me.
“Mr. Haller, you are welcome in my court anytime.”
Like Santana’s opening guitar riff in “Jingo,” those words put a jolt of electricity straight down my spine. I lost my cool and smiled. I told her I looked forward to the next time.
“There is also the matter of the contempt citation,” the judge said. “I believe that I will continue to hold that in abeyance. You’re free to go now, Mr. Haller.”
“Thank you, Judge,” I said.
It was when I stepped out into the sun, onto the steps where the day before I had basked in a fifty-two-million-dollar win, that I got caught by the bear. My phone buzzed as I put on my sunglasses. The screen told me that the call was from the California Health Care Facility in Stockton.
But it wasn’t a collect call from David Snow.
“Mickey Haller,” I said.
“Michael Haller?” a male voice asked. “The attorney?”
“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?”
“This is Sergeant Tamar at CHCF Stockton. You are the attorney of record for inmate David Francis Snow?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“It’s my duty to inform you that David Francis Snow expired this morning in the medical facility here.”
I was silent as I registered the news.
“Expired?” I said, finding my voice. “What do you mean, ‘expired’? The doctors said he had nine months.”
“I’m not a doctor, sir,” Tamar said. “I’m in administration. You will have to get the details from the attending physicians. I am only informing you of the death. I am told he died peacefully in the medical center at eleven eleven this morning. That is all the information I have.”
“How do I reach the attending physicians?”
“I can give them the message if you wish.”
“Yes, do that. Please. Ask them to call me.”
“Are you in communication with the inmate’s next of kin? We have her listed here as Cassandra Snow, a daughter, in Los Angeles.”
“Yes, I’m in communication with her. She’s my client.”
“Would you like me to inform her, or will you handle it?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure, sir?”
“I’m sure.”
“Should further communication about arrangements for the body go through you or the daughter?”
I didn’t answer. I was thinking about Cassandra.
“Sir?” Tamar prompted.
“Uh, yes,” I said. “All communications can go through me. I’ll handle things.”
“Okay, sir. I will relay your message to the medical center. Thank you for your time, and sorry for your loss.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Tamar disconnected and I stood there with the phone held to my ear for a long moment.
The reality was that, in the short time since Cassandra had come to me, there was no way I could have gotten her father out. But that didn’t matter. He should never have been in. And that was on me. I knew it as surely as I knew that the victory of the previous day was mine as well.
I put away the phone and started down the steps to the street.
Nobody bats a thousand. Nobody wins every case. The law is fickle. You’re prince of the city one day, a street sweeper the next. The skill is being able to get back in the Lincoln, buckle up, and drive on. But this one was different. This one hurt. I knew that my failure of two decades before was going to continue to haunt me. There would be no redemption. My own house was burning now, burning to the ground.
I headed down the street. I had to go to Cassandra. I had to tell her. I had to take responsibility. And I had to find the resolve to take this punch and then get up and fight another day.
Acknowledgments
The author greatly acknowledges and thanks those who helped with the research and writing of this book. They include Asya Muchnick, Bill Massey, Tracy Roe, Betsy Uhrig, Pamela Marshall, Dan Daly, Roger Mills, Jane Davis, Heather Rizzo, Dennis Wojciechowski, Shannon Byrne, Jeff Pitman, Linda Connelly, Callie Connelly, and Devin Connelly.
While this is a work of fiction, the author learned much and drew inspiration from the pleadings in the Megan Garcia v. Character Technologies lawsuit filed in the US District Court for the Middle District of Florida.