No Way Out

“Good. Then I guess we can roll up our sleeves and get on with it.”

The tension was collectively released from the lungs of those present and the awkward smiles spread like a contagion round the table.

“I think it stinks,” said Joanne Gale, a woman in her late thirties, sitting forward to meet Webster’s eyes. She was actually the only women partner in the firm.

“Why?” asked Webster.

“You know why. The man is a rapist.”

“A rape suspect!” Webster corrected. “And it’s never bothered you before.”

This was true. The firm had defended rape suspects before. Indeed Jo herself had taken first seat in several rape defenses — and in some of those cases there was little room to doubt the guilt of the accused.

“This is different. He’s done it before.”

“And he’s served his sentence,” said Alex. “But that doesn’t make him guilty this time. He’s not the same man now that he was then.”

“He got off lightly last time.”

“That’s not for us to judge.”

This was Webster again. Everyone else remained silent, including Alex. It was tempting to speak up in defense of Claymore, or even to lecture this woman on the finer points of legal ethics. But it wasn’t his job. If she had a problem with Levine and Webster being involved in Claymore’s defense, that was between her and her colleagues..

Again, it was left to Aaron Levine to break the silence.

“The question we should be focusing on is do we how do we go about winning? There’s not much kudos in losing a high profile case.”

The other partners, looked down or away, anything to withdraw from this pragmatic way of looking at the issue. Alex realized that the question was directed at him. He met the old man’s eyes.

“It's going to be an uphill struggle.”

“How steep uphill?”

Alex thought about this for a moment.

“There’s a lot of evidence for us to refute — not to mention that we still have to overcome the effect of Claymore’s past. It won’t be easy. The problem is I can’t desanctify the victim without seeming like a bully.”

“‘Desanctify the victim’?” Levine echoed softly.

Jo Gale spoke into the silence that followed.

“A euphemism for character assassination… used by sleazy shysters who like helping rapists and wife-killers beat the rap.”

Alex smiled, not in mockery, but out of respect for Jo Gale’s feisty attitude.

“I prefer to think of it as, leveling the playing field after the DA’s finished milking the sympathy of the jury for all it’s worth.”

“Well if you can’t ‘desanctify the victim,’” asked Jo Gale, “how do you propose to level the playing field?”

“By making Claymore seem harmless.”

“And how do you propose to do that?”

Alex looked around the table to gauge the mood. It was obvious that no one else had anything more to say. This was turning into a grudge match between himself and Jo Gale.

“That’s very simple. A picture paints a thousand words.”

She rested her elbows on the oval-shaped table, and leaned forward, meeting Alex’s eyes implacably.

“And how do you propose to paint a picture for the jury without words?”

“By putting an attractive woman next to Claymore. She doesn’t even have to say a word on his behalf, just sit there looking comfortable and relaxed. That’s all it takes.”

Jo recoiled. It was an actual, physical retreat.

“You can forget it Mr. Sedaka,” said Jo. “‘Cause it ain’t gonna happen.”

Alex had to fight hard to resist the urge to smile.

Sherman, who until now had been leaning back in a desperate effort to make himself invisible, now sat forward, sensing an opportunity to earn some brownie points with the senior partners.

“There’s Andi Phoenix.”

All the other heads in the room looked round at him. But it was Jo who spoke — and her tone was audibly defensive, or rather passive-aggressive.

“Who’s Andi Phoenix?”

“She’s from our New York office. We needed some one to fill our victim litigation slot and she took the bait. She knew she wasn’t going anywhere in the Big Apple so she came out here.”

“Will she do it?” asked Webster.

“She’s hot and she’s ambitious. I know she’d just love a piece of the action. If you want a cute piece of ass to sit next to Claymore looking comfortable and keeping shtum, you won’t have any trouble convincing Andi Phoenix to take the seat.”

Friday, 12 June 2009 — 16:30

“I won’t do it!” said Andi, flatly.

This time they were in one of the smaller conference rooms: Andi, Paul Sherman and Alex Sedaka. When she was first summoned here, Andi thought she was going to be consulted about a civil lawsuit against a convicted criminal. It had been a rude awakening when she discovered what Sherman really wanted. In fact she had been so angered when he told her, that it would have had pacifying effect if he’d told her then and there that he was just joking and that what Alex really wanted to sleep with her.

She was standing by the window, half-looking out, half-glancing at this Laurel and Hardy pair of clowns. Alex met her eyes across the table, surprised by the ferocity of her resistance.

“Why not? It’ll be great experience for you — and a challenge.”

“Don’t patronize me. I’m past the stage when I need that sort of a challenge. And I’ve had plenty of experience back east — ”

“Oh my mistake,” said Alex, “I thought you came out here was because you hit the glass ceiling in the Big Apple.”

Andi felt like punching him in the face for the sarcasm. She felt like punching Sherman too for exposing her to it. But she contained her anger.

“That doesn’t mean I have to scramble for the dregs.”

“No one’s asking you to scramble. I’m coming to you remember. All I’m asking of you is your help for our client.”

“He’s your client not mine.”

“He’s Levine and Webster’s client,” Sherman stepped in. “That makes him your client too.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to prostitute myself defending him.”

“We’re not asking you to prostitute yourself,” said Alex. “We’re just asking you to stand up for the principle that a man is innocent until proven guilty.”

“Oh come off it Mr. Sedaka. What do you need me for? I’m a civil litigator.”

“You’ve had criminal experience,” Sherman cut in. “Working both sides of the fence.”

“There are plenty of criminal lawyers here with a lot more experience. Why do you need me?”

“Okay I’ll be honest with you,” said Alex. I don’t want you to play an active role. I just want you to sit next to him, make him look harmless. Look, you know the kind of pre-trial publicity this case is going to arouse — the sort of publicity it’s already aroused. They’ll drag in every incident from Claymore’s past. They’ve already compared him to O. J. Simpson. They’re going to savage his reputation before the case ever gets to trial. That’s what we’re up against.”