Rage of Angels (17 page)

“Check on the date of Connie Garrett’s accident, would you, Dan? I want to know when the statute of limitations is up.”

Twenty minutes later, Dan Martin walked into Jennifer’s office, his face white.

“We blew it,” he said. “Your hunch was right. The statute of limitations ran out today.”

She felt suddenly sick. “There’s no chance of a mistake?”

“None. I’m sorry, Jennifer. One of us should have checked it out before. It—it just never occurred to me.”

“Or me.” Jennifer picked up the telephone and dialed a number. “Patrick Maguire, please. Jennifer Parker.”

She waited for what seemed an eternity, and then she said brightly into the telephone, “Hello there, Mr. Maguire. How was London?” She listened. “No, I’ve never been there…Ah, well, one of these days…The reason I’m calling,” she said casually, “is that I just talked to Connie Garrett. As I told you before, she really doesn’t want to go to court unless she has to. So if we could settle this today—”

Patrick Maguire’s laugh boomed through the receiver. “Nice try, Miss Parker. The statute of limitations is up today. No one is going to sue anybody. If you’d like to settle for a lunch sometime we can talk about the fickle finger of fate.”

Jennifer tried to keep the anger out of her voice. “That’s a pretty rotten trick, friend.”

“It’s a pretty rotten world, friend,” Patrick Maguire chuckled.

“It’s not how you play the game, it’s whether you win or not, right?”

“You’re pretty good, honey, but I’ve been at it a lot longer than you. Tell your client I said better luck next time.”

And he rang off.

Jennifer sat there holding the telephone in her hand. She thought of Connie Garrett sitting at home, waiting for the news. Jennifer’s head began to pound and a film of perspiration popped out on her forehead. She reached in her desk drawer for an aspirin and looked at the clock on the wall It was four o’clock. They had until five o’clock to file with the Clerk of the Superior Court.

“How long would it take you to prepare the filing?” Jennifer asked Dan Martin, who stood there suffering with her.

He followed her glance. “At least three hours. Maybe four. There’s no way.”

There has to be a way
, Jennifer thought.

Jennifer said, “Doesn’t Nationwide have branches all over the United States?”

“Yes.”

“It’s only one o’clock in San Francisco. We’ll file against them there and ask for a change of venue later.”

Dan Martin shook his head. “Jennifer, all the papers are here. If we got a firm in San Francisco and briefed them on what we need and they drew up new papers, there’s no way they could make the five o’clock deadline.”

Something in her refused to give up. “What time is it in Hawaii?”

“Eleven in the morning.”

Jennifer’s headache disappeared as if by magic, and she leapt from her chair in excitement. “That’s it, then! Find out if Nationwide does business there. They must have a factory, sales office, garage—anything. If they do, we file there.”

Dan Martin stared at her for a moment and then his face lit up. “Gotcha!” He was already hurrying toward the door.

Jennifer could still hear Patrick Maguire’s smug tone on the telephone.
Tell your client, better luck next time.
There would never be a next time for Connie Garrett. It had to be
now.

Thirty minutes later Jennifer’s intercom buzzed and Dan Martin said excitedly, “Nationwide Motors manufactures their drive shafts on the island of Oahu.”

“We’ve got them! Get hold of a law firm there and have them file the papers immediately.”

“Did you have any special firm in mind?”

“No. Pick someone out of Martindale-Hubbell. Just make sure they serve the papers on the local attorney for National. Have them call us back the minute those papers are filed. I’ll be waiting here in the office.”

“Anything else I can do?”

“Pray.”

The call from Hawaii came at ten o’clock that evening. Jennifer grabbed the phone and a soft voice said, “Miss Jennifer Parker, please.”

“Speaking.”

“This is Miss Sung of the law firm of Gregg and Hoy in Oahu. We wanted to let you know that fifteen minutes ago we served the papers you requested on the attorney for Nationwide Motors Corporation.”

Jennifer exhaled slowly. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Cynthia sent in Joey La Guardia. Jennifer had never seen the man before. He had telephoned, asking her to represent him in an assault case. He was short, compactly built and wore an expensive suit that looked as though it had been carefully tailored for someone else. He had an enormous diamond ring on his little finger.

La Guardia smiled with yellowed teeth and said, “I come to you ‘cause I need some help. Anybody can make a mistake, right, Miss Parker? The cops picked me up ‘cause I did a little number on a coupla guys, but I thought they was out to get me, you know? The alley was dark and when I seen them comin’ at me—well, it’s a rough neighborhood down there. I jumped them before they could jump me.”

There was something about his manner that Jennifer found distasteful and false. He was trying too hard to be ingratiating.

He pulled out a large wad of money.

“Here. A grand down an’ another grand when we go to court. Okay?”

“My calendar is full for the next few months. I’ll be glad to recommend some other attorneys to you.”

His manner became insistent. “No. I don’t want nobody else. You’re the best.”

“For a simple assault charge you don’t need the best.”

“Hey, listen,” he said, “I’ll give you more money.” There
was a desperation in his voice. “
Two
grand down and—”

Jennifer pressed the buzzer under her desk and Cynthia walked in. “Mr. La Guardia’s leaving, Cynthia.”

Joey La Guardia glared at Jennifer for a long moment, scooped up his money and thrust it back in his pocket. He walked out of the office without a word. Jennifer pressed the intercom button.

“Ken, could you please come in here a minute?”

It took Ken Bailey less than thirty minutes to get a complete report on Joey La Guardia.

“He’s got a rap sheet a mile long,” he told Jennifer. “He’s been in and out of the pen since he was sixteen.” He glanced at the piece of paper in his hand. “He’s out on bail. He was picked up last week for assault and battery. He beat up two old men who owed the Organization money.”

Everything suddenly clicked into place. “Joey La Guardia works for the Organization?”

“He’s one of Michael Moretti’s enforcers.”

Jennifer was filled with a cold fury. “Can you get me the telephone number of Michael Moretti?”

Five minutes later, Jennifer was speaking to Moretti.

“Well, this is an unexpected pleasure, Miss Parker. I—”

“Mr. Moretti, I don’t like being set up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Listen to me. And listen well. I’m not for sale. Not now, not ever. I won’t represent you or anyone who works for you. All I want is for you to leave me alone. Is that clear?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Will you have lunch with me?”

Jennifer hung up on him.

Cynthia’s voice came over the intercom. “A Mr. Patrick Maguire is here to see you, Miss Parker. He has no appointment, but he said—”

Jennifer smiled to herself. “Have Mr. Maguire wait.”

She remembered their conversation on the telephone.
It’s not how you play the game, it’s whether you win or not, right? You’re pretty good, honey, but I’ve been at it a lot longer than you. Tell your client I said better luck next time.

Jennifer kept Patrick Maguire waiting for forty-five minutes, and then buzzed Cynthia.

“Send Mr. Maguire in, please.”

Patrick Maguire’s genial manner was gone. He had been outwitted, and he was angry and did not bother to conceal it.

He walked over to Jennifer’s desk and snapped, “You’re causing me a lot of problems, friend.”

“Am I, friend?”

He sat down, uninvited. “Let’s stop playing games. I had a call from the general counsel of Nationwide Motors. I underestimated you. My client is willing to make a settlement.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Jennifer. She opened it. Inside was a certified check made out to Connie Garrett. It was for one hundred thousand dollars.

Jennifer slipped the check back in the envelope and returned it to Patrick Maguire.

“It’s not enough. We’re suing for five million dollars.”

Maguire grinned. “No, you’re not. Because your client’s not going into court. I just paid her a visit. There’s no way you can ever get that girl into a courtroom. She’s terrified and, without her, you haven’t got a chance.”

Jennifer said angrily, “You had no right to talk to Connie Garrett without my being present.”

“I was only trying to do everybody a favor. Take the money and run, friend.”

Jennifer got to her feet. “Get out of here. You turn my stomach.”

Patrick Maguire rose. “I didn’t know your stomach
could
be turned.”

And he walked out, taking the check with him.

Watching him go, Jennifer wondered whether she had made a terrible mistake. She thought of what a hundred thousand dollars could do for Connie Garrett. But it was not enough. Not for what that girl would have to endure every day for the rest of her life.

Jennifer knew that Patrick Maguire was right about one thing. Without Connie Garrett in the courtroom, there was no chance that a jury would return a verdict for five million dollars. Words could never persuade them of the horror of her life. Jennifer needed the impact of Connie Garrett’s presence in the courtroom, with the jury looking at her day after day; but there was no way Jennifer could persuade the young woman to go into court She had to find another solution.

Adam telephoned.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you before,” he apologized. “I’ve been having meetings on the Senate race and—”

“It’s all right, darling. I understand.”
I’ve got to understand,
she thought.

“I miss you so much.”

“I miss you, too, Adam.”
You’ll never know how much.

“I want to see you.”

Jennifer wanted to say,
When
? but she waited.

Adam went on. “I have to go to Albany this afternoon. I’ll call you when I get back.”

“All right.” There was nothing else she could say. There was nothing she could do.

At four o’clock in the morning, Jennifer awakened from a terrible dream and knew how she was going to win five million dollars for Connie Garrett.

“We’ve set up a series of fund-raising dinners across the state. We’ll hit the larger towns only. We’ll get to the whistle-stops through a few national television shows like
Face The Nation,
the
Today
show and
Meet the Press.
We figure that we can pick up—Adam, are you listening?”

Adam turned to Stewart Needham and the other three men in the conference room—top media experts, Needham had assured him—and said, “Yes, of course, Stewart.”

He had been thinking of something else entirely. Jennifer. He wanted her here at his side, sharing the excitement of the campaign, sharing this moment, sharing his life.

Adam had tried several times to discuss his situation with Stewart Needham, but each time his partner had managed to change the subject.

Adam sat there thinking about Jennifer and Mary Beth. He knew that it was unfair to compare them, but it was impossible not to.

Jennifer is stimulating to be with. She’s interested in everything
and makes me feel alive. Mary Beth lives in her own private little world…

Jennifer and I have a thousand things in common. Mary Beth and I have nothing in common but our marriage…

I love Jennifer’s sense of humor. She knows how to laugh at herself. Mary Beth takes everything seriously…

Jennifer makes me feel young. Mary Beth seems older than her years…

Jennifer is self-reliant. Mary Beth depends on me to tell her what to do…

Five important differences between the woman I’m in love with and my wife.

Five reasons why I can never leave Mary Beth.

On a Wednesday morning in early August the trial of
Connie Garrett
v.
Nationwide Motors Corporation
began. Ordinarily, the trial would only have been worth a paragraph or two in the newspapers, but because Jennifer Parker was representing the plaintiff, the media were out in full force.

Patrick Maguire sat at the defense table, surrounded by a battery of assistants dressed in conservative gray suits.

The process of selecting a jury began. Maguire was casual, almost to the point of indifference, for he knew that Connie Garrett was not going to appear in court. The sight of a beautiful young quadruple amputee would have been a powerful emotional lever with which to pry a large sum of money out of a jury—but there would be no girl and no lever.

This time,
Maguire thought,
Jennifer Parker has outsmarted herself.

The jury was impaneled and the trial got underway. Patrick Maguire made his opening statement and Jennifer had to admit to herself that he was very good indeed. He
dwelt at length on the plight of poor young Connie Garrett, saying all the things that Jennifer had planned to say, stealing her emotional thunder. He spoke of the accident, stressing the fact that Connie Garrett had slipped on ice and that the truck driver had not been at fault.

“The plaintiff is asking you ladies and gentlemen to award her five million dollars.” Maguire shook his head incredulously. “
Five million dollars
! Have you ever seen that much money? I haven’t. My firm handles some affluent clients, but I want to tell you that in all my years of practicing law, I have never even seen
one
million dollars—or
half
a million dollars.”

He could see by the looks on the faces of the jurors that neither had they.

“The defense is going to bring witnesses in here who will tell you how the accident happened. And it
was
an accident. Before we’re through, we’ll show you that Nationwide Motors had no culpability in this matter. You will have noticed that the person bringing the suit, Connie Garrett, is not in court today. Her attorney has informed Judge Silverman that she will not make an appearance at all. Connie Garrett is not in this courtroom today where she belongs, but I can tell you where she is. Right now, as I’m standing here talking to you, Connie Garrett is sitting at home counting the money she thinks you’re going to give her. She’s waiting for her telephone to ring and for her attorney to tell her how many millions of dollars she suckered out of you.

“You and I know that any time there’s an accident where a big corporation is involved—no matter how indirectly—there are people who are immediately going to say, ‘Why, that company is rich. It can afford it. Let’s take it for all we can.”

Patrick Maguire paused.

“Connie Garrett’s not in this courtroom today because she couldn’t face you. She knows that what she’s trying to do is immoral. Well, we’re going to send her away empty-handed
as a lesson to other people who might be tempted to try the same thing in the future. A person has to take responsibility for his or her own actions. If you slip on a piece of ice on the street, you can’t blame big brother for it. And you shouldn’t try to swindle five million dollars out of him. Thank you.”

He turned to bow to Jennifer, and then walked over to the defense table and sat down.

Jennifer rose to her feet and approached the jury. She studied their faces, trying to evaluate the impression that Patrick Maguire had made.

“My esteemed colleague has told you that Connie Garrett will not be in this courtroom during the trial. That is correct.” Jennifer pointed to an empty space at the plaintiff’s table. “That is where Connie Garrett would be sitting if she were here. Not in that chair. In a special wheelchair. The chair she lives in. Connie Garrett won’t be in this courtroom, but before this trial is over you will all have an opportunity to meet her and get to know her as I have gotten to know her.”

There was a puzzled frown on Patrick Maguire’s face. He leaned over and whispered to one of his assistants.

Jennifer was going on. “I listened as Mr. Maguire spoke so eloquently, and I want to tell you I was touched. I found my heart bleeding for this multibillion-dollar corporation that’s being mercilessly attacked by this twenty-four-year-old woman who has no arms or legs. This woman who, at this very moment is sitting at home, greedily awaiting that telephone call that will tell her she’s rich.” Jennifer’s voice dropped.

“Rich to do what? Go out and buy diamonds for the hands she doesn’t have? Buy dancing shoes for the feet she doesn’t have? Buy beautiful dresses that she can never wear? A Rolls Royce to take her to parties she’s not invited to? Just think of all the fun she’s going to have with that money.”

Jennifer spoke very quietly and sincerely as her eyes moved slowly across the faces of the jurors. “Mr. Maguire has never seen five million dollars at one time. Neither have I. But I’ll
tell you this. If I were to offer any one of you five million dollars in cash right now, and all I wanted in exchange was to cut off both your arms and both your legs, I don’t think five million dollars would seem like very much money…

“The law in this case is very clear,” Jennifer explained. “In an earlier trial, which the plaintiff lost, the defendants were aware of a defect in the braking system in their trucks, and they withheld that knowledge from the plaintiff and from the court. In doing so, they acted illegally. That is the basis for this new trial. According to a recent government survey, the biggest contributors to truck accidents involve wheels and tires, brakes and steering systems. If you will just examine these figures for a moment…”

Patrick Maguire was appraising the jury and he was an expert at it. As Jennifer droned on about the statistics, Maguire could tell that the jurors were getting bored with this trial. It was becoming too technical. The trial was no longer about a crippled girl. It was about trucks and braking distances and faulty brake drums. The jurors were losing interest.

Maguire glanced over at Jennifer and thought,
She’s not as clever as she’s reputed to be.
Maguire knew that if he had been on the other side defending Connie Garrett, he would have ignored the statistics and mechanical problems and played on the jury’s emotions. Jennifer Parker had done exactly the opposite.

Patrick Maguire leaned back in his chair now and relaxed.

Jennifer was approaching the bench. “Your Honor, with the court’s permission, I have an exhibit I would like to introduce.”

“What kind of exhibit?” Judge Silverman asked.

“When this trial began I promised the jury that they would get to know Connie Garrett. Since she is unable to be here in person, I would like permission to show some pictures of her.”

Judge Silverman said, “I see no objection to that.” He
turned to Patrick Maguire. “Does the attorney for the defense have any objection?”

Patrick Maguire got to his feet, moving slowly, thinking fast. “What kind of pictures?”

Jennifer said, “A few pictures taken of Connie Garrett at home.”

Patrick Maguire would have preferred not to have the pictures, but on the other hand, photographs of a crippled girl sitting in a wheelchair were certainly a lot less dramatic than the actual appearance of the girl herself would have been. And there was another factor to consider: If he objected, it would make him look unsympathetic in the eyes of the jury.

He said generously, “By all means, show the pictures.”

“Thank you.”

Jennifer turned to Dan Martin and nodded. Two men in the back row moved forward with a portable screen and a motion picture projector and began to set them up.

Patrick Maguire stood up, surprised. “Wait a minute! What is this?”

Jennifer replied innocently, “The pictures you just agreed to let me show.”

Patrick Maguire stood there, silently fuming. Jennifer had said nothing about motion pictures. But it was too late to object. He nodded curtly and sat down again.

Jennifer had the screen positioned so the jury and Judge Silverman could see it clearly.

“May we have the room darkened, Your Honor?”

The judge signaled the bailiff and the shades were lowered. Jennifer walked over to the 16mm projector and turned it on, and the screen came to life.

For the next thirty minutes there was not a sound to be heard in the courtroom. Jennifer had hired a professional cameraman and a young director of commercials to make the film. They had photographed a day in the life of Connie
Garrett, and it was a stark, realistic horror story. Nothing had been left to the imagination. The film showed the beautiful young amputee being taken out of bed in the morning, being carried to the toilet, being cleaned like a small, helpless baby…being bathed…being fed and dressed…Jennifer had seen the film over and over and now, as she watched it again, she felt the same lump in her throat and her eyes filled with tears, and she knew that it must be having the same effect on the judge and the jury and the spectators in the courtroom.

When the film was ended, Jennifer turned to Judge Silverman. “The plaintiff rests.”

The jury had been out for more than ten hours, and with each passing hour Jennifer’s spirits sank lower. She had been sure of an immediate verdict. If they had been as affected by the film as she had been, a verdict should not have taken more than an hour or two.

When the jury had filed out, Patrick Maguire had been frantic, certain that he had lost his case, that he had underestimated Jennifer Parker once again. But as the hours passed and the jury still did not return, Maguire’s hopes began to rise. It would not have taken the jury this long to make an emotional decision. “We’re going to be all right. The longer they’re in there arguing, the more their emotions are going to cool off.”

A few minutes before midnight, the foreman sent a note to Judge Silverman for a legal ruling. The judge studied the request, then looked up. “Will both attorneys approach the bench, please?”

When Jennifer and Patrick Maguire were standing in front of him, Judge Silverman said, “I want to apprise you of a note I have just received from the foreman. The jury is asking
whether they are legally permitted to award Connie Garrett more than the five million dollars her attorney is suing for.”

Jennifer felt suddenly giddy. Her heart began to soar. She turned to look at Patrick Maguire. His face was drained of color.

“I’m informing them,” Judge Silverman said, “that it is within their province to set any amount they feel is justified.”

Thirty minutes later the jury filed back into the courtroom. The foreman announced they had found in favor of the plaintiff. The amount of damages she was entitled to was six million dollars.

It was the largest personal injury award in the history of the State of New York.