The Justice Game

31

During the break, Case McAllister handed his copy of Farley v. Guns Unlimited to Jason. “Did you know about this?”

Jason shook his head.

It was only a question, asked in a civil tone without any inflections, but Jason knew what Case was really saying. You’re local counsel. We’re paying you a lot of money to know about cases just like this one-cases that are part of the local folklore but don’t show up in the law books or in electronic databases like Westlaw.

Jason quickly glanced through the opinion. In the Farley case, the manufacturer had actually been dismissed, and the case had proceeded only against the dealer. But it would be useless to argue that distinction. The manufacturer in the Farley case had not known about the troubled history of its dealer, and therefore the plaintiff had proceeded against the manufacturer on other grounds. But here, Kelly Starling had been clever enough to use the exact language of the exception in the Protection of Lawful Commerce in Arms Act, alleging that MD Firearms had “aided, abetted, and conspired” with Peninsula Arms to sell firearms illegally. The statute got Kelly in the front door. The Farley case prevented MD Firearms from walking out the back door based on an unforeseeable intervening cause.

In short, they were toast.

“We knew this hearing was a long shot,” McAllister said. “I just don’t like surprises.”

“Yes, sir,” Jason said.

Garrison took the bench scowling. He gaveled the court to order, and a hush engulfed the courtroom. Jason knew that a best-case scenario would be the court taking the case under advisement. Worst case would be an immediate ruling against MD Firearms, allowing the case to proceed.

Garrison turned his attention first to Blake Crawford. “What I’m about to say is meant as no disrespect, Mr. Crawford,” he said. Jason’s heart began to beat a little faster. Could it be?

“I know you’ve suffered a terrible loss and undoubtedly feel like someone needs to be held accountable for that loss.”

Jason glanced at Crawford, who looked stricken. Jason didn’t want to get his hopes up… but it sounded like Judge Garrison was winding up to dismiss the case.

“While I understand those emotions and want to personally express my condolences at what happened, in my view the person responsible for your wife’s death is Larry Jamison. At most, you might also be able to lay some blame at the feet of the store that illegally sold him the weapon-Peninsula Arms.”

Jason couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Not in a million years had he thought a judge would dismiss the case this early. It was almost too good to be true.

“Nevertheless…,” Garrison said, pausing.

The word was like a sledgehammer to Jason’s midsection.

“My personal view is not what matters. When I took the bench, I took an oath to follow the law.”

The judge sighed and looked out over the courtroom. “The law in this case leaves me no choice. There is an exception in the federal statute protecting manufacturers, and that exception leaves room for suits against manufacturers who aid or abet illegal sales.

“In addition, I’m duty-bound to follow the precedents of this court, especially a case by someone as respected as Judge Moore.”

Garrison turned his attention to Jason and Case. “The motion is overruled. I’m not saying this case will necessarily go to the jury. But for now, the plaintiff has alleged enough to state a cause of action.”

Jason could hear some murmuring behind him, and the judge banged his gavel. Garrison was trying to play the role of ally to the gun groups even as he ruled against them. Nobody in the courtroom was buying it.

“Ms. Starling,” the judge said, “please draft an order reflecting the ruling. Anything else?”

“No, Your Honor,” Kelly Starling said, half-standing as she addressed the court.

Garrison looked at Jason and Case. Case just sat there, waiting long enough that Jason considered standing and responding himself.

When Case finally spoke, it seemed like he was talking to himself. “There are going to be a lot of dealers out of business.”

“What’s that?” Garrison said, clearly perturbed.

Case stood. “If we can be accused of aiding and abetting illegal sales on facts like these, we’ll have to stop selling guns to a lot of dealers.”

Tension lined every wrinkle on Garrison’s face. He wasn’t used to lawyers talking back.

“Speak to Congress about that,” he said. “You’re wasting your breath in here.”

“That last statement is something we can agree on,” Case said.

Judge Garrison seemed stunned by the comment. Livid. But he apparently thought twice before jumping down Case’s throat. His Republican friends would already be upset that Garrison had denied the Motion to Dismiss. No sense making things worse.

“Court adjourned,” Garrison said.

Before she left court, Kelly had one more job to do. She pulled a deposition notice out of her briefcase and checked it one last time. Normally, lawyers called the other side and mutually agreed on dates to take sworn pretrial testimony of key witnesses. But sometimes, when Kelly wanted to make a statement, she sent out deposition notices without even checking. This typically ignited the other side’s fuse, resulting in a big argument.

Eventually a date for the deposition would be established by mutual consent.

But the message would be sent.

This particular notice was for Melissa Davids. Ten o’clock. Kelly’s office in Washington, D.C. She had scheduled it for February 9, just a week and a half away. The defense lawyers would undoubtedly object to the time and place, and Kelly would agree to reschedule-so long as Davids was the first witness to be deposed.

She walked to the table where Case McAllister and Jason Noble were packing their briefcases. She placed the deposition notice in front of Case.

“It’s a notice for Melissa Davids’s deposition,” Kelly said. “I’m willing to be flexible on time and place as long as she goes first.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” McAllister said. He didn’t look at Kelly. Nor did he pick up the document.

She stood there for a second, then returned to her client. “Let’s go,” she said, packing her stuff. “Look straight ahead. Don’t respond to anybody.”

Blake nodded and put on his game face.

As they turned to leave, Kelly noticed that Case McAllister and Jason Noble had already departed. Her deposition notice was still sitting there on the defense counsel table, untouched.

“Jerks,” she said under her breath.