Kelly read the question a second time.
“Yes, Case says that.”
“And Peninsula Arms was one of those dealers, right?”
Again, Davids took her time reading the document. Kelly waited her out.
“That’s correct,” Davids said. “You want me to just read the whole memo into the record?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Kelly said sharply. “Now, Mr. McAllister says that cutting off dealers might result in litigation by those dealers and would also play into the cities’ hands by acknowledging that MD Firearms has a responsibility to monitor dealers. Isn’t that right?”
“The document speaks for itself,” Jason said. “Do you have a question for this witness?”
Kelly sighed and put the document down, staring at Melissa Davids. “Is there one single sentence, anywhere in Mr. McAllister’s memo, stating that one of the factors you ought to consider is the life-threatening danger that occurs when felons and other illegal purchasers obtain firearms?”
“No,” Davids said decisively. “And if he had put something like that in there, I probably would have fired him.”
Kelly chuckled aloud at the perceived absurdity of the answer.
“You find this funny?” Davids challenged.
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I find most of your answers hilarious.”
“Objection,” Jason said, using the most condescending and disdainful tone he could muster. “Counsel’s remarks are childish and disrespectful and should be struck from the record.”
“You’re calling me childish?” Kelly asked with a small ironic snicker. She shook her head and turned her attention to the witness. “Why would you have fired Mr. McAllister if he had suggested that you ought to consider the risk to people’s lives?”
“Because anybody who believes that stopping the sale of guns to Peninsula Arms will keep criminals from getting guns doesn’t have enough sense to work at MD Firearms.”
“Maybe they could be a plaintiff’s lawyer,” Kelly said sarcastically.
“Your words, Counselor. Not mine.”
When the deposition was over and everyone had cleared out, the MD Firearms brain trust huddled in the conference room.
“I want to know where that leak came from,” Melissa Davids demanded, looking at Case. “I want somebody looking through every one of our e-mail servers and employee accounts. I want you to interrogate every area manager. We can’t afford to have traitors working at our company, Case.”
Davids was on her feet, pacing next to the conference table, her face tight with anger. In contrast, Case remained seated, a soothing presence as his volcanic CEO spilled her lava.
“Do you have any idea who did this?” she demanded.
“There’s no guarantee that it’s somebody at our company,” Case said. “It might have been somebody at Walker Gun Co., or somebody could have hacked into our network.”
The two of them speculated for a while about who might be behind the leak. Case promised he would leave no stone unturned in his investigation.
After Melissa left, Case blew out a deep breath.
“What do you think?” Jason asked.
“She handled the questions well. Unfortunately, her previous deposition answers painted her into a corner.” Case tugged on his bow tie. “Bottom line, she’s going to look like she was lying when Starling plays her previous testimony denying that anybody ever suggested she look at the possibility of shutting down Peninsula Arms.”
The two men sat there for a moment. Jason let his silence indicate his assent.
“She’s been getting mixed results from our focus groups,” Jason said. “They either love her or hate her.”
“No surprise there.”
Case arranged his legal pads and deposition transcript into a neat little pile. He stacked copies of the day’s exhibits on top.
“You’ve got good judgment, Jason. And I’ve watched the tapes from Justice Inc.” Case stopped fiddling with the stack of papers in front of him and looked at Jason. “You’re one heckuva trial lawyer.”
To Jason, it felt like a strange turn for the conversation. “Thanks,” he said.
“I may need you to try this case alone,” Case said.
“What are you talking about?”
“I might need to take the stand.”
Jason furrowed his brow at the suggestion. “Why?”
“We need somebody who can really explain that memo,” Case suggested. “Some of the jurors might think that Melissa is a little over the top, but maybe they would relate better to me. The question is whether I add more value to the case as a lawyer or as a witness. Right now, I’m thinking witness.”
Jason felt pressure building in his chest; his head throbbed from these rapid developments. Kelly Starling had a possible mole inside MD Firearms and a smoking-gun memo for her arsenal, and now Jason might have to try the case alone.
“Let’s sleep on this for a few days before we do anything rash,” Jason suggested.
“Of course,” Case said. “You know me. I never make rash decisions.”
56
Flying back to Norfolk, alone in the window seat, Jason had time to take inventory. He made a list of things he needed to get done prior to trial-two solid pages on his legal pad, and there were probably plenty of things he hadn’t remembered to include. Maybe he was just tired, but the deposition had somehow caused him to turn an emotional corner in the case.
Given the choice, he probably would have picked the plaintiff’s side. He loved representing the underdog. He wasn’t a natural fan of the Second Amendment, though he was getting more comfortable with the thought of having his MD-45 in his house or car. In some undefined way, it gave him a sense of security and empowerment.
For a while, he had talked himself into liking this case. It was by far the biggest case of his legal career, and he had grown to genuinely respect Melissa Davids. Plus, there was this whole individual responsibility thing. Wasn’t MD Firearms really just an innocent scapegoat? Weren’t the real culprits Jamison and Beeson and Peninsula Arms, none of whom had been sued?
But now that Case’s memo had come to light, Jason’s enthusiasm for the case was about nil. Melissa Davids had shown her worst side today. And though he had given Kelly a hard time in front of his clients, Jason found himself respecting her crusader mentality. Kelly carried herself like somebody who had justice on her side- somebody willing to bleed for her client. Jason realized, in a moment of unguarded candor, that he didn’t feel the same way.
But he was Jason Noble. Law student prodigy. Ace trial lawyer. The greatest actor who would never be considered for an Oscar.
Jason had once heard a Hollywood veteran say that sincerity was the key to all good acting. “Once you can fake sincerity, you’ve got it made.” It was, Jason thought, true in the courtroom as well.
By the time the plane started its approach, Jason had talked himself into once again being the Great Defender of the Second Amendment. The memo might have cost him a co-counsel, but if so, Jason had gained a great witness in the process. Melissa Davids had her rough edges, but Case McAllister was a pro. He would sit there on the witness stand, adjust his bow tie, and systematically dismantle Kelly Starling’s case.
Jason’s BlackBerry vibrated before the plane hit the ground. As usual, he had refused to turn it off during flight, secretly switching the mode from normal to vibrate. The habit was probably indicative of some deep personality flaw born out of his rebellious and contrary nature, but his reasoning was simple: if cell phones actually messed up the navigational equipment, would they really let passengers even bring them on planes?
He did, however, have the good sense not to check his messages until the plane touched down. As the flight attendant started her welcome-to-Norfolk spiel, Jason pulled the BlackBerry from its clip and started scrolling through his messages.
