Balance of Power

    To her chagrin, Sarah saw that she was trapped—to permit an answer, however exculpatory, might permit Nolan to claim that she had waived Mary's claim of privilege. 'Same instruction,' she snapped. 'You can ask my client if she and the First Lady conspired to join a terrorist cell, and my instruction would be the same.'

    'Really. Let me test that.' Turning to Mary, Nolan asked, 'Did Mrs. Kilcannon tell you that Ms. Dash would help carry out her and the President's directives as to how to conduct this lawsuit?'

    Mary shifted in her chair—caught, Sarah thought, between her resentment of Lara; the question which inflamed it; and Sarah's directions to maintain silence. 'Same instruction,' Sarah said firmly.

    'Or,' Nolan persisted, 'does Lara 'instruct' you directly?'

    'Same instruction . . .'

    'Lara,' Mary burst out, 'doesn't tell me what to do.'

    'Then you won't mind,' Nolan responded smoothly, 'ignoring your counsel's instruction, and telling me what she does say. Or would you prefer that I go before Judge Bond?'

    With this, Sarah saw that the core of Nolan's strategy of division was more psychological than legal—to estrange Mary from Lara, and from Sarah herself, until she fired her lawyers or dropped the suit. But she could not know how clearly Nolan grasped the full potential of this strategy, all the intricacies—the jealousies, old wounds, and fresh resentments—hidden by the successes of Inez Costello's now-blighted family. 'Same instruction,' Sarah repeated.

    Nolan's keen gaze remained focused on Mary. 'Are you following your counsel's orders, Ms. Costello?'

    Taut, Sarah could only watch. Answering, her client spoke without inflection, looking at no one. 'Yes.'

    For a moment Nolan studied her, and then shrugged his dismissal. 'Then I suppose I'll have to ask your sister.'

THREE

Entering the Republican cloakroom after morning business, Frank Fasano had hoped to test his colleagues' reaction to Senator Hampton's uncharacteristically lacerating critique. Instead, he found Chad Palmer and Leo Weller absorbed in watching Kerry Kilcannon on CNN. Joining them, he perceived at once that Hampton's speech was part of a broader attack orchestrated by Kilcannon himself.

    The President had ventured into opposition territory, choosing to address a Chamber of Commerce convention in Atlantic City, part of a one-day media blitz devoted wholly to guns. Faced with a potentially hostile reception, Kilcannon seemed more cheerful—in a sardonic way— than Fasano had seen him since the murders. Palmer, too, seemed amused, watching Kilcannon with the detached appreciation of one warrior for another—enhanced, the Majority Leader suspected, by Palmer's distaste for his own alliance with Fasano.

    'For Kerry,' Palmer observed, 'a little antagonism is the spice of life.' Watching the screen, Leo Weller chuckled.

    Frivolous lawsuits, Kilcannon was telling his listeners, ought not be encouraged. But some of the antilawyer rhetoric used to promote tort reform is based on calculated disinformation. To be blunt, it's more attractive to attack 'greedy trial lawyers' than a ten-year-old quadriplegic facing life in a wheelchair because of a defective tire . . .

    'To be blunt,' Fasano repeated with a smile. But he was gaining a fresh appreciation of how deadly such directness could be.

    I understand the temptation, Kilcannon went on. A lot of people hate every lawyer except the one they need. It's rather like politicians. In fact, as a class, we're both so widely despised that it's easy for our detractors to claim that lawyers buy politicians on the open market. Kilcannon smiled, skipping a beat. In fact, one of your previous speakers implied that about me, just yesterday.

    The speaker, Fasano knew, had been Paul Harshman. Kilcannon continued in the same ironic tone. Seven times, in fact, he employed the words 'Kilcannon' and 'trial lawyers' in the same unflattering sentence. Never once did he utter the word 'victim.' But that's what you get from a defective tire; or an exploding gas tank; or a plane which blows up in midair.

    Lawyers don't create victims. But all too often, victims need lawyers. Because without legal representation, ordinary people are all too often powerless to gain recourse from the institutions whose carelessness or callousness has blighted their lives forever . . .

    'Cheap populism,' Leo Weller snorted. 'You'd think we're a nation of victims.'

    Fasano glanced at him. 'Best not to say that in public, Leo. At least until the 'ordinary people' of Montana have voted you a second term.'

    And so, Kilcannon suggested to his captive audience, let's address some other questions Senator Harshman failed to ask.

    Time and again, he complained that the cost of 'needless litigation' is passed on to the consumer.

    But is litigation 'needless' when it secures the constant care our ten-year-old quadriplegic will require for the rest of his very difficult life?

    Didn't 'needless litigation' compel the auto industry to improve the safety of its cars?

    And why are plaintiffs' lawyers more blameworthy than the defense lawyers for the tobacco and asbestos industries—some from the most prosperous firms in America—who earn five hundred dollars an hour bludgeoning plaintiffs who are dying of cancer or emphysema?

    Palmer laughed softly. 'Where's Paul?' he asked. 'I'm dying to hear his answer.'

    Senator Harshman, Kilcannon continued, emphasized time and again that you represent the men and women of Main Street. Many of you own small businesses. But who does he suppose supports your companies and stores? For the most part, ordinary people. After all is said and done, we all should be together in this.

    This leads to yet another hard truth the senator failed to mention—that a knee-jerk condemnation of lawsuits too often favors the rich and powerful at the expense of the injured and the powerless—including, perhaps, your own family and friends.

    He bitterly condemned class actions. Would he argue that it's all right for a crooked corporation to destroy the pensions or investments of ordinary people who, as individuals, no longer have the means to sue?

    He attacked contingent fees for plaintiffs' lawyers. Would he deprive ordinary people of lawyers because they lack the wherewithal to pay one to oppose the array of lawyers a massive corporation can use to grind them down?

    He deplored politicians who accept the support of plaintiffs' lawyers. Is he suggesting that those who accept donations from defense lawyers and their corporate clients somehow are immune from his criticisms?