The Justice Game

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.

Seven e-mails. Not bad for a ninety-minute flight. He could get through these before they hit the gate.

But when he opened the third one, his hand froze around the device. The words sucked the wind from his lungs, causing an audible gasp. He read it twice and bowed his head, leaning against the seat in front of him, staring at the screen of his BlackBerry. Jason: The retired chief of police for the city of Atlanta would make an excellent expert witness in your case. His name is Ed Poole. Hire him.

And Jason, you’ll want to do what I say. Otherwise, the entire world will be reading on the Kryptonite blog all about that little accident you had in high school. I know who was driving and I’ve got the proof. Don’t make me use it. I want to help. The Second Amendment is the only thing that staves off tyranny. Sic semper tyrannis! Luthor PS: Don’t let anybody talk you into settling this case. It’s very winnable.

Jason took a deep breath and tried to calm his racing heart. His hands literally trembled, as if he had just watched an old friend rise out of the grave, point a finger at Jason’s chest, and accuse him of murder.

He closed his eyes and, like a recurring nightmare, it all came rushing back.