XIV
Terry smiled with satisfaction. Using every peremptory chal-lenge in his possession, he had managed to put three women on the six-person jury. Czernek had engineered three men. Now the battle for their souls could proceed.
He gazed at the six. He had wanted the full twelve, but Judge Lyang had pressured him to settle for six in order to save court time. He agreed-it was only fair, since Lyang had been kind enough to arrange for a speedy trial. Two of the women were in their thirties, both housewives. The third was in her fifties, a real estate professional. He figured he could get the young ones to side with Karen, the older one to identify with Dr. Fletcher. His task was to convince the men to see his side of it. Piece of cake.
Ron smiled with satisfaction. Having exhausted his peremp-tory challenges, he wound up with three men to counter Johnson's women. He wanted men who would side with his own interests as the genetic father in this case. While he wor-ried that his unmarried status might put them off, he hoped that he had tap-danced around the problem by making Valerie the sole plaintiff. The three men were all fathers, in their for-ties, from working-class backgrounds that most likely did not cotton to newfangled medical shenanigans. He pondered the women with amusement. If Johnson thought they would save him, he was wrong.
Rhetoric Ron will have you weeping for Valerie by summa-tion time.
L.A. Superior Court Judge Madeline Lyang watched the court clerk swear in the jury. They had to demand a jury, she thought. Since the odd, hybrid suit dealt with issues of fact, though, and not just equitable relief, they had a right to it. A small sigh escaped her. Juries always meant greater histrionics on the part of the lawyers. In her fifteen years on the bench, she had developed a fair instinct for determining how a case would proceed.
This one will be a killer.
She was a woman of moderate height. Sitting at the bench, though, she looked impressive and forbidding. At fifty, she still retained the smooth, sculpted features of her Chinese ances-try. Open and expansive in private life, she capitalized upon the myth of oriental inscrutability in the courtroom setting, maintaining an impassive, unreadable expression when she wanted or needed to. Custody cases usually demanded that. Such trials involved few villains and fewer heroesUjust two people trying to do what they saw as best for the children.
While this was not strictly a simple custody battle, it had wound up in her docket by those most powerful of judicial forces, expediency and mere chance. She knew on first sight, though, that this case would be a publicity H- bomb.
She used the gavel she'd received in high school, where she had served as chief (and only) justice of the student court.
'Court will come to order. In the case of Valerie Dalton ver-sus Evelyn Fletcher and David and Karen Chandler, jointly, I'd like first to address the question of televised proceedings.' Here we go, she thought, expecting the first of many tugs of war. 'Counsels will please approach the bench.'
'The plaintiff,' Ron whispered to the judge, 'favors allow-ing the presence of the press.' Terry chimed in immediately. 'The defendants welcome the opportunity to let the truth be heard.' Judge Lyang permitted a smile to cross her face. Publicity hounds. 'Fine.' She addressed the courtroom. 'Permission is gran-'
The sound of plastic and metal scraping and sliding ema-nated from the back of the courtroom. Photographers and video crews lined the back wall, eagerly setting up their equipment. Lyang rapped once. 'Granted, but on condition that court-room decorum is maintained back there. Quiet down.' She gazed at the plaintiff. Valerie Dalton sat beside Czernek. She wore a stereotypically middle-American house dress in light blue. It made her eyes take on a sapphire hue and went flatteringly well with her blond hair and very light makeup. Per-fect, the judge decided, for someone playing the part of be-trayed innocent. She admired Czernek for stopping at a solid color and not going all the way to gingham and bows. His own outfit was a solid navy business suit with a light blue oxford cloth shirt under a midnight-blue tie with the smallest, most tasteful maroon-dot pattern. The defendants seemed to be using much the same tactic. David Chandler wore an unimpressive grey business suit, not expensive enough to seem like a spendthrift, yet just well fit-ting enough to imply fitness for fatherhood status. His wife wore a simple beige Victorian-collared blouse and matching skirt. Neither woman wore any extra jewelry, though-in ad-dition to her wedding ring-Mrs. Chandler sported a nice little cameo on the collar of her blouse.
Darling, thought Lyang. Their lawyer, she mused, must have been brought up watching reruns of The Paper Chase-he wore appropriately rumpled brown tweed slacks and jacket over a sky-blue shirt with thin white vertical and horizontal lines. His tie was tan and narrow. He indeed looked the part of an energetic, young defense lawyer working sleepless nights to prepare his valiant case. Dr. Fletcher was the only one who failed to fit in. Dressed in a dramatically white business suit that Lyang had seen the week before at Nordstrom's, she sat between Johnson and Mrs. Chandler with a notebook and pen at the ready. Her black hair, peppered with grey, was in place but for one strand that curled toward her right eye despite occasional efforts to brush it back.
She was the magnet that drew the gaze of the jurors and the spectators. Who, they must wonder, was this doctor who had performed such bizarre surgery? Judge Lyang took a deep breath and prepared to find out.
'Counsel for the plaintiff, you may present your opening statement.' Ron Czernek stepped from behind his table to address the jury. He made a point of stepping around the overhead projec-tor that Johnson had asked to have available.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said in a conversational, un-dramatic voice. 'We're here today to decide something that's never been decided before. There have been countless trials in the past between husband and wife over the custody of their children. There have been battles between unmarried persons for children born out of wedlock. There have even been highly publicized cases of surrogate mothers demanding custody of the children they gave
