friend of someone at the parent company of
“Was?”
“He was CEO of a large freight-forwarding company in Boston. Had a massive stroke and died last summer. Nice guy, according to our source. Devoted to his wife and daughter. She’s their only child. Still lives at home, but that may be because the mother’s not well. Has her own desktop publishing business there in Boston where she puts out newsletters for various organizations all over New England. Occasionally sells small feature articles to the
“So why is she researching Savannah?”
He shrugged. “Who knows?”
For lunch, I drove away from the center of town and found a relatively uncrowded neighborhood lunch counter. It was no J. Basul Noble’s, but I had a slice of meatloaf with a dab of mashed potatoes and string beans and still got back in time for court to reconvene at one o’clock.
Mr. Kurkland took the stand first and his testimony echoed Mrs. Westermann’s except that he was sure her Lhasa Apsos were not nearly so well trained as she insisted.
“And how can you speak with such certainty, Mr. Kurkland?”
“Number one, on account of I could smell it. Number two, on account of when I lifted up the rug to put my plastic tarp under it, I could see the stains where they wet through to the carpet.”
Mr. Kurkland was tubby and clearly perspiring. He also spoke with a distinct Bronx accent and I had a feeling he wasn’t winning many friends in the jury box. Especially during cross-examination when Mrs. Westermann’s attorney, sensing victory, made him admit that plastic tarps did imply the possibility of too much wetting of the rug. Nor did it help when he was forced to admit that those stains on the Berber carpet could have been caused by wine or juice spills that had soaked through.
It seemed to me that the acids in wine or juice would be pretty damaging, too, but no one asked my opinion.
Like the plaintiff, defense called but one witness, another expert on rug cleaning, and I sat back expecting to hear claims that Mr. Kurkland’s methods were entirely acceptable. It would probably come down to which expert the jury chose to believe.
He began with a mini-lecture on the nature of fine wool rugs, how the yarn is colored with natural vegetable dyes, and how damaging the acids in dog urine could be. Thus far, he sounded like the Westermann expert.
“Now, sir,” said Mr. Kurkland’s attorney. “There has been much talk back and forth about dog urine. Is there any way to say decisively whether or not the dogs did indeed use this sixty-thousand-dollar rug as a fire hydrant?”
“There is. While I did inherit the rug-cleaning business established by my father, my degree is actually in textile chemistry. Over the years I have discovered that certain stains manifest themselves in different colors when exposed to black light.”
Like me, the jury sat up in renewed interest.
“And how does dog urine manifest itself?”
“If it is present, it will show up as a green tint.”
“Your Honor, if it please the court, my witness has brought a black light with him today. If we could lower the lighting here in the courtroom, he could demonstrate his testimony.”
“Any objection?” I asked counsel for the plaintiff.
He was clearly taken by surprise, but he could read the eagerness on the jurors’ faces and knew what would happen if he prevented them from seeing the expert’s show-and-tell.
“No objection, Your Honor.”
I turned to the bailiff. “Mr. Dow, will you please find a plug for his extension cord and then cut the lights?”
“Yes, ma’am!” he said and turned off all the lights in the courtroom. There were windows in the rear doors and enough light came from the hallway to make out the expert as he approached the rug and switched on his black light.
The jury sighed and Mrs. Westermann sank back in her chair as big lime green splotches suddenly glowed all over the rug.
The jury was out less than thirty minutes. Their verdict? “The defendant is not liable for negligence.”
I thanked them for performing their civic duty, explained how the clerk would sign statements to take back to employers for those that needed them, then released them from further jury duty for two years.
Since this case had been expected to last two days, there was nothing else on my docket, and I adjourned for the day at a little past three.
25
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The first intensity of Market must have been wearing off. How else explain that I found a legal parking spot within two blocks of the GHFM building on my first pass?
I managed to evade the shoe shine offers from kids lining both sides of the street, but I wasn’t quite as skillful at avoiding all the leaflets thrust upon me by college students dressed as everything from space aliens to purple
