Page 30 of The 1 Lawyer
My hands were on the keyboard while I kept an eye on the time. “Don’t even go there, Jenny.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, ‘Don’t even go there’? Is that all you’ve got to say?”
“Yeah.” Once the e-filing was complete, I pushed my chair away from the desk; I had to take the corrected hard copies to court. She followed as I made my way back to the printer, righteous anger radiating from her. I sorted and stapled the papers.
“You can’t ignore this, Stafford Lee.”
“Sure I can.” I unearthed a box of file folders, pulled one out, and slid in the documents.
“So what am I supposed to do with this information?” she said.
“Nothing. Put it out of your mind.” When she started to protest, I cut her off. “Jenny, I’m Caro’s advocate. You understand? I’m trying to get him acquitted.”
“The MO—”
“Damn it, Jenny, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not the judge or the jury. I’m his defense lawyer.”
“But what if it’s true?” Her voice cracked, a sure sign of distress. “What if I’m onto something?”
I checked my watch. I needed to be sitting at the counsel table when the jury filed in. “You’re speculating.” While I packed up my briefcase, I said, “Don’t pretend you don’t know the law on this. If Caro told me he committed murder, I’d have an obligation. But he denies it, as I’m sure you recall.”
“Yeah, but these new facts—”
I didn’t want to hear her reasoning. “Just because you harbor a suspicion doesn’t change my professional duty. Or yours, for that matter.”
She pulled out her phone. “I recorded the interview, so I can make a transcript. When you read it, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Can we meet here during the lunch break?”
I snapped. “Goddamn it, Jenny, listen. You’re working for me on Caro’s case, and that means you’re cloaked by the same attorney-client rules. We fight for our client, not against him. You better remember whose side you’re on.”
She followed me to the door. After looking pointedly at my wristwatch, I held it open for her. She shot me a stubborn glare.
“Since you won’t hear me out, I’m going to talk to Mason,” she said.
“Don’t you dare,” I said.
She walked down the steps, then turned around to face me. “The family of the woman—the victim in the cold case—I think I really need to contact them.”
“Jenny!” I said as she started walking away. “Absolutely not! You can’t do that!”
When she didn’t look back, I shouted, “Are you trying to get me disbarred?”
That didn’t slow her down either.
CHAPTER 24
I TOOK the stairs to the second floor of the courthouse at a dead run and managed to reach the counsel table just before nine o’clock. When Charlene saw me slide into my chair, she touched her eyelid, mouthed Ouch, then phoned the judge to report all parties present.
Judge Walker emerged from chambers.
I stood and said, “Your Honor, in light of the events that took place in open court yesterday, I’ve prepared a written motion requesting a mistrial along with suggestions in support. I’d like to urge the court to give serious consideration—”
“And you e-filed it this morning. My clerk alerted me.”
I stepped forward, holding out a hard copy of the motion. “I’d like the opportunity to present my argument on this matter, Your Honor.”
Walker sighed wearily. “I assume the motion speaks for itself.” He tossed it, unread, to the side of the bench. “Overruled.”
As the judge had warned, my hours of overnight work proved a poor investment. The jurors filed in and took their places in the jury box, and I returned to the counsel table.