Deadly Justice

19

BEN HAD HOPED TO spend the remaining hour until his hearing preparing. Unfortunately, only seconds after Mike left, Crichton sailed in.

“Mr. Crichton!” Ben said, jumping out of his chair. “I didn’t expect to see you in the office today. How are you feeling?”

Crichton waved the attention away. “Don’t make a fuss, Kincaid. I’m fine. The ER docs told me to take it easy for a few days. I was just shaken up, that’s all.”

“If I had fallen fifty feet only to be jerked back a few seconds before impact, I’d be more than just shaken up.”

“Well, I’ve had close shaves before. I’ve known all along I wasn’t going to live forever.” He glanced back at the doorway. “Who was that man in the trenchcoat I saw leaving your office?”

“Oh, that was my brother-in-law, Mike,” Ben hedged. “Er, ex-brother-in-law. He’s a friend.”

“He’s the cop.”

“Well, yes.”

“Came to talk to you about Howard’s murder.”

“Right.”

Crichton sat down in one of Ben’s chairs and pressed” a finger to his lips. “Ben…I think your interest in Howard’s unfortunate demise is admirable. I really do. But I’m concerned that it might distract you from your duties here at the office.”

“I’ve been timely with all my assignments, Mr. Crichton.”

“I need more than just timely compliance from you, Ben. I need your total concentration. An absolute, twenty-four-hour devotion to your client.” His eyebrows knitted. “You know, I have a family, and I love them dearly, but my job comes first and they know it. They understand. I mean no disrespect to Howard’s memory. But the Apollo Consortium is at a critical juncture now—the proposed acquisition of ConSteel, the Ameritech venture, and a dozen other equally important deals. We can’t afford the distraction—or the negative publicity—of a damaging piece of litigation. I’m counting on you to nip the Nelson case in the bud.”

“I’m doing everything I can, Mr. Crichton. As I told you, the Nelsons’ testimony was convincing and consistent. The average Oklahoma jury will be sympathetic to them. If we’re going to beat them, we’re going to have to do it on a legal issue. Before trial.”

“Then find me a legal issue, Kincaid.”

“I’m working on it, sir, but discovery is still ongoing. Tomorrow, Abernathy, the Nelsons’ attorney, is deposing one of our design team vice presidents. After that, if all goes well, I may know enough to put together a convincing summary judgment brief.”

“See that you do.”

“Even if I write the best brief in the world, though, there’s no guarantee Judge Roemer will grant it.”

Crichton gazed over his strategically placed hands.

All Ben could see were his eyes burning across the room. “Ben, is it my imagination, or are you making excuses for your failure before the motion has even been filed?”

“Not at all, sir. But as you know, there are no guarantees in the world of litigation. Sometimes people assume that if their cause is just, that automatically means they will be successful in the courtroom. Of course, that isn’t always the case.”

Ben could feel Crichton’s eyes burrowing into his forehead. “See that it is the case in this lawsuit, Kincaid. Understand?”

Ben shifted uncomfortably. “I understand.”

“Good.” Crichton removed his hands. “So tell me about this hearing this afternoon.”

“Well, as you know, we produced an enormous quantity of documents to Abernathy last week.”

Crichton grinned. “I know. We threw in stuff from twenty years back that didn’t even relate to the XKL-1. I expected that small-time practitioner to be buried for months.”

Without commenting on Crichton’s tactics, Ben continued. “He hired emergency support staff from a temporary agency and completed the job in a few days. He’s figured out our internal numbering system, and by tracking the numbers, he’s deduced that ten pages are missing. He filed a motion to compel production of the missing pages, and asked the court for an emergency hearing before the documents are lost or destroyed.”

“This entire hearing is about a lousy ten pages? Good grief, we must’ve given him a hundred thousand pages!”

“True. And now he wants the other ten.”

“What makes him think those ten are so important?”

Ben ran his fingers across his desk. “Principally, the fact that they are missing, I would imagine. I’ve talked to Imogine, the supervisor in Document Retention, but she says she doesn’t know where the documents are or what information they contained.” He chose his words carefully. “I…don’t suppose you do, by any chance?”

To Ben’s surprise, Crichton leaned across his desk and smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. I remember removing ten pages myself. They didn’t have anything to do with the XKL-1. They contained a design for a new suspension system—frankly, one that would remedy some unrelated problems we’d experienced. It would have no bearing on the alleged leaf spring defect the Nelsons are complaining about. I didn’t mean to create any problems—we just considered the new design top secret. Do we have to produce that?”

Ben thought for a moment. “Well, there is a legal doctrine protecting proprietary information. Companies are not required to disclose trade secrets, especially where, as here, they have no relevance to the lawsuit.”

“Makes sense to me.”

“There’s also a rule excluding evidence of subsequent repairs. The theory is that, if evidence of repairs made after an incident were admissible at trial, no one would ever make repairs, for fear that the fact of the repair would make it appear at trial that they acknowledged the fault. As a result, more people would be harmed. So the courts have made a policy decision to exclude evidence of subsequent repairs.”

“That’s great!” He walked around the desk and slapped Ben on the back. “That sounds like exactly what we need. By God, I knew you were going to be a winner, Kincaid. What a proactive player. I wish I had ten more just like you.”

“Thank you, sir. Oh, I’ll have to see the missing documents, of course.”

Crichton stiffened. “Why? I already told you what they say.”

“I know. But if I’m going to make representations to the court about their contents—”

“Ben, I don’t have them anymore.”

“Who does?”

“I’m not sure. I think I gave them to Imogene.”

“Imogene says she doesn’t have them.”

“Okay, I’ll instigate a search.”

“Sir, I don’t have time for a search. The hearing starts in less than an hour.”

“Just tell the judge you can’t show them around because they contain trade secrets. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Ben frowned. “Either that or he’ll cite me for contempt.”

“You’ll handle it. You’ll be great.” Crichton started for the door, but stopped just before he passed through the threshold. “By the way, Kincaid…” He cleared his throat, then stared at the floor.

Ben watched this curious spectacle. Crichton, the boss of every room he entered, suddenly seemed…uncomfortable.

“What I’m trying to say is…well, I probably got out of line…calling you a pussy and all that. What you did on the giant’s ladder, when you saved my butt from splatting on the dirt…that was amazing. Most men would’ve been too scared by half to try something like that. Hell, I’m not even sure I could have brought it off.”

“Really, Mr. Crichton, it was no big deal.”

“The hell it wasn’t. And to think you did that just minutes after I was riding your ass.” He shuffled his feet some more. “What I’m trying to say is I think I owe you an apology.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“No. But I wanted to do it anyway. Now get in that courtroom and give ’em hell, tiger.” And with that, Crichton faded down the hallway.