Power Lawyer 2

by Dave Daren

  I stood up and faced the jury. Twelve men and women all turned their eyes on me, and I tried to do a quick read as I faced them. I saw interest there, and curiosity, and one young man who was eyeing Anna with the wrong kind of interest, but nothing that would set off any alarms right away.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, “This is a tale of an American success story. It is a tale of how one man turned his vision and his hard work into one of the top shipping firms in the Asian market. It is a tale of a loving father, a devoted wife, and two wonderful children. It is also a tale of greed, and jealousy, and the betrayal of a lifelong friendship. It may sound like something from a movie, or an episode of Law & Order, but this is a true story.”

  I paused for a moment and let that sink in. I had the jury’s full attention now, even the Millennial who’d been staring at Anna.

  “The evidence will show that Arturo Bernardi built the shipping firm ArDex into one of the biggest carriers between Asia and North America. ArDex provided shipping services for companies like Apple, GE, and Toyota. The evidence will also show that, until four years ago, Arturo Bernardi led the company through a period of steady growth. And then, four years ago, Arturo Bernardi became ill. And the evidence will show that, despite the best efforts, no doctor or specialist could ever determine the reason for that illness.”

  “The evidence will show,” I continued, “that Arturo’s longtime friend, Joseph Kurzak, was an inveterate gambler and womanizer. And while Mr. Kurzak was able to manage his impulses for a time, he eventually gave into them on a trip to Macao. The evidence will show that during this trip to Macao, he gambled and lost heavily, and, in order to pay off that debt, he agreed to meet with certain businessmen. The evidence will show that these businessmen made a deal with Mr. Kurzak: his debts would be forgiven if he would help them take over ArDex.”

  I saw one of the women in the jury box shake her head in dismay, and one of the men turned a speculative glance at Watts.

  “The evidence will show that the businessmen who made that offer were part of the Japanese mafia, commonly known as the yakuza. The yakuza in question runs several legitimate businesses as a front for their illegal businesses. The proposal made to Mr. Kurzak would provide the yakuza with their own shipping line and ensure that both their legal and illegal goods could be imported into the U.S. without interference.”

  “The evidence will show that Mr. Kurzak agreed to these terms, and that he returned to the U.S., and told Arturo about the offer. The evidence will show that Arturo refused the offer, and that soon after, Arturo fell ill with his mysterious disease. The evidence will show that Arturo was slowly poisoned, until his recent death. The evidence will show that Arturo was poisoned by Mr. Kurzak, at the behest of the yakuza.”

  “But our tale doesn’t end there,” I added. “The evidence will show that the yakuza employed terrorist tactics to remove the true and faithful members from the board of ArDex and replace them with people loyal to the yakuza.”

  Each jury member now stared at Tucker Watts, who sat immobile, a cold glint in his eyes. I could feel the stare burn through me, and a shiver crept up my spine.

  “The evidence will show,” I continued, “That the new board, led by Tucker Watts, began a campaign to turn ArDex into the personal shipping company for the yakuza. As part of that campaign, Arturo’s two children, Leonardo and Anna, were pressured to sell their shares, which both Leo and Anna refused to do. The evidence will show that, as a result of that refusal, Leo was killed, and Anna placed in fear for her life.”

  The jurors now glanced at Anna, who was the perfect opposite of Tucker Watts. She looked warm and alluring, and the pale pink suit she wore even added a touch of innocence.

  “The evidence will show that ArDex became part of the yakuza’s operations, and that it was used repeatedly to ship illegal goods to and from the United States. The evidence will show that the members of the board were well aware of this activity, and purposely engaged in acts designed to conceal this illegal activity, not only from government authorities, but from Arturo, Leo and Anna.”

  “You will hear from various witnesses about the changes that have occurred at ArDex since Arturo was forced to step down. You will hear about hefty contracts that were turned down, and mysterious late night visitors. You will hear about money that vanishes from the books, and shipments that disappear somewhere on the road.”

  “You will also hear about a man who battled declining health for four years, and the poison that was used to turn that man from a powerful figure into an invalid. You will hear how that man’s son was intercepted at LAX, driven to Pismo Beach, and thrown from the cliffs.”

  “And when all the testimony is in, I’m going to come before you and ask you to find in favor of my client. All the evidence that you will hear during this trial will show that the company is now part of a yakuza syndicate and that my client has been deprived of her rightful share of the company, and that she has been damaged by the actions of the board which now acts only in the interest of the yakuza. This is the tale you will hear, and there is only one outcome that can make it right. Thank you.”

  I returned to my seat, and Anna gave me a quick nod of approval. I looked over at the defendant’s table and saw that Watts was whispering in Bertoch’s ear. Bertoch waved away whatever Watts' suggested with a frown.

  “The floor is yours, Mr. Bertoch,” Judge Luca stated when Bertoch was slow to stand up.

  “So it is, Your Honor,” Bertoch agreed as he rose to his feet. He meandered towards the jury box, apparently deep in thought. He took his time, waiting until every juror was looking at him. I had to admit, it was a masterful performance.

  “You’ve heard some rather interesting accusations so far,” Bertoch surmised. “And no doubt, you’re now ready to have a go at hearing this case.”

  I saw two of the jurors nod unconsciously in agreement with that assessment. Bertoch smiled graciously, like the kindly uncle indulging his favorite nieces and nephews.

  “But let me tell you a bit more about this case,” Bertoch continued. “Let me tell you about a man who raised a son and a daughter after his wife’s unexpected death. A man who found the time to be there for his children while running a large company. A man who made sure his children could go to the college of their choice without incurring any debt. This was a man who lent a hand to any who needed it, especially old friends who might have found themselves in an untenable situation. This man was Arturo Bernardi.”

  “I tell you this because I want you to understand what a shock his death must have been, not only to his family, but to those who knew him. It was a blow that hit his son and daughter particularly hard. It left them bereft and rudderless in this world.”

  Anna gripped my hand under the table, and for a moment, the anger showed in her eyes. She tamped it down as the jury turned to look at her, the poor, bereaved daughter.

  “Once you hear the evidence about Arturo Bernardi, you will understand why someone might lose their grasp on reality and fabricate conspiracies where none exist,” Bertoch sighed. “It will be easy to see why his family would look for answers. And, perhaps, they have found them, but not at ArDex. No, ArDex is simply the convenient punching bag in this case. The target of a daughter’s grief, a daughter who could not accept the sudden death of her father, and turned that anger into a misguided attempt to seize control of the company. The board did not elect Mr. Watts because of some bizarre ties to so-called Japanese mobsters, but because he was the most qualified person for the job. As you will see, Mr. Watts has decades of experience in the shipping industry. Ms. Bernardi is but a youngster with only a few years of experience, none of it in the shipping industry.”

  “The evidence that Mr. Creed mentioned is not as hard and fast as he would have you believe. And while there is no doubt that Joseph Kurzak incurred heavy debts, and that he often relied on Mr. Bernardi’s aid in repaying said debts, there is nothing that ties any of his actions to a yakuza other than a few gossamer s
trings woven of a grieving daughter’s fantasies. Whatever evil Mr. Kurzak undertook, he did so of his own inclination and for his own purposes. As Mr. Creed said, this is a tale. This is a tale of a long friendship ruined by ambition and greed. It is a sad tale, but not one that should be here, in this Court. When all the evidence has been entered, I believe you’ll agree that there is nothing here but the tale of a lost friendship and a bitter man.”

  Bertoch gave the jury one last shrug of his shoulders, then walked solemnly back to his table. The Judge, who had been quietly studying the clock over the door during Bertoch’s opening argument, pulled himself upright.

  “Your first witness, Mr. Creed,” the Judge called out.

  “The plaintiff calls Mr. Anthony Cerillo to the stand,” I replied.

  Anthony Cerillo had been an old pal of my parents. He was a fellow accountant who spent twenty years at one of the Big Three accounting firms before starting his own boutique firm specializing in forensic accounting and best practices. He was happy to provide his services when I’d called and done a heck of a job combing through the ArDex books. My amateur attempts had barely scratched the surface. Anthony had found a whole host of problems, all deeply buried, and likely invisible to all but the geekiest of accountants.

  Anthony spent over three hours explaining the grueling world of accounting and the problems he had found at ArDex, most of which cropped up after Arturo stepped down. He rebuffed any suggestion that these were are all just minor errors and explained that there was a definite purpose behind the moves. Anthony was brilliant, and Bertoch had little to push him on. The only concession that Bertoch was able to win was that Anthony had not been able to trace the changes to one person. Anthony had to concede that it could easily have been Kurzak, or anyone else at the company who was high enough in the hierarchy.

  It was a risk putting Anthony on first, given the topic was accounting. Most people have a basic understanding of accounting and are happy enough with the idea of simply balancing money in and money out. The type of accounting Anthony described was far more complex and appealed only to the most devoted of number crunchers. Juries, as a rule, aren’t packed with such people.

  I’d finally decided to let Anthony go first, just so we could have it out of the way. I could remind the jury in the closing argument that his brilliant mind believed that a malevolent force was behind the problems, and then I had to help them see that malevolent force was Tucker Watts.

  When Anthony was finally finished, the Judge looked longingly at the clock, and then turned towards the jury box. The jury was still awake, though a few looked like they’d been asked to explain the fate of Schrodinger’s cat. The Millennial gazed longingly at Anna, and I realized we had at least one vote in our favor, no matter what else might happen in the trial.

  “All right,” the Judge declared. “We’ll break for lunch and reconvene at one-thirty.”

  There was a sigh of relief from the courtroom, and I helped Anna to her feet. Watts brushed past us, his icy glare locked ahead. The rest of the board followed obediently behind, except for Genji, who had yet to put in an appearance.

  Anna and I hit Santo’s, since it was unlikely that the Ramsey Taft gang would show up there, or that any of the members of the press who were circling the court would bother with dropping by. We were in luck. A few courthouse employees, a work crew, and the regulars were the only other diners. We ate in silence, letting the blather from the TV screen fill the air between us. We were back in the court fifteen minutes early and spent the time alone discussing strategy.

  Bertoch appeared with five minutes to spare. His crew went through their set up routine. Bertoch checked his watch and then glanced at the door. With thirty seconds to spare, Watts strode into the courtroom with the other members of the board, minus Genji. Bertoch waited until they were gathered behind the railing and then gestured towards the assembled group. He asked a question, and Watts gave him a casual shrug in return. I wondered if the question was about Genji. Whatever it was, Bertoch was clearly angry at Watts’ dismissive attitude.

  The rest of the afternoon went quickly. I called each of the board members to the stand, except for Genji, who never appeared and no one seemed to know why. The judge threatened to hold him in contempt if he wasn’t located. One of the Ramsey Taft employees scurried from the courtroom at that, while Bertoch assured the Judge that everything was being done to locate him. I considered the possibility that Genji was actually dead, either because he was indeed a member of the yakuza and had failed his leader, or because he was just an employee of the yakuza who had lost his usefulness.

  I have to give credit to Watts and his minions. They stuck to their story that Kurzak was behind all the evil that had befallen Arturo Bernardi and ArDex. Watts admitted that he had met Kurzak during the Macao trip, but denied that he had any part in whatever deal Kurzak may have struck. He simply shrugged and touted his credentials when pushed as to why he was hired in the first place. He had a simple and believable answer for almost everything, and I saw a few jury members look at Anna with doubt in their eyes for the first time.

  Fatima and a few of the other longtime employees took the stand next. They all told similar stories, of the strange men that now hung around ArDex headquarters, of baffling orders from on high, and changes to the books that appeared overnight. The head of shipping talked at length about sudden changes in shipping destinations, and odd corrections to the manifests, while one of the captains discussed a curious incident in the port of Osaka that involved a couple of gang members and trailers full of baby wipes, waiting to be loaded onto his ship.

  The jury was back in our favor again, and Bertoch had a hard time dispelling the picture that these odd events were all the symptoms of something larger and more evil taking place. Watts was rigid and gave each employee who testified a death stare. A few quaked under his gaze, but most took their cue from Fatima. She took the stand, and without a single hesitation or moment of indecision, she laid out exactly what she had seen and heard. When pressed by Bertoch, she refused to back down.

  I was feeling good about our case by the time the Judge signalled an end to the day’s proceedings. Watts managed to stride from the court before the judge was through his door. Anna and I waited until most of the crowd had dispersed before making our way outside. I glimpsed the Ramsey Taft employee charged with finding Genji pacing anxiously outside, phone pinned to his ear.

  “I wonder what Genji is up to,” Anna pondered when she saw the Ramsey Taft man jog after Bertoch, still on the phone with someone.

  “He may be with the Mizuchi,” I replied. “He’s the true yakuza member among the board. The others work for the Mizuchi, but I don’t think they’re part of the gang.”

  “You still think he’s here?” Anna asked. I knew she was talking about the Mizuchi. He had yet to be spotted, officially, and both Sofia and Anna were starting to have their doubts about his presence in L.A.

  “I know he is,” I stated.

  “So, what next, counselor?” Anna asked.

  “I have prep work for tomorrow,” I admitted.

  “What’s that quote?” Anna laughed. “Something about hard work never being done?”

  “It’s certainly true in this case,” I agreed. “Are you okay for tonight?”

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “My newest abode has top-notch security in the form of a very devoted rottweiler with very big teeth.”

  “Another college friend?” I mused.

  “Post-college,” she said as we stopped next to her car. “He’s pretty scary himself, actually. He’s almost seven feet tall and looks like one of those wrestlers from the WWE. Kind of dresses like them, too.”

  “You’re not serious,” I replied. I’m pretty sure my jaw was still open as well.

  “Absolutely,” she declared as she opened the door. She gave me a wink, and added, “He’s gay, so you don’t have to worry about me. He might hit on you, though, if you’re ever brave enough to come over.”

>   I gave up on the idea of working in the library after that. I kept picturing Anna and some Hulk Hogan type character hanging out by the pool while a rottweiler sat at their feet and gnawed on a bone.

  I drove home, tossed everything on the coffee table, then threw on some gym clothes. If felt like centuries since I’d really been able to work out, and the sore muscles I had afterwards only confirmed that suspicion. I consoled myself with a stop at a taco truck for dinner, which I ate on the way back to the apartment.

  I’d just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. I snatched it up and tried to answer while I toweled off.

  “Creed,” I mumbled as I ran the towel through my hair.

  “Mr. Creed, it’s Agent Smart.”

  I tied the towel around my waist and walked into the bedroom. I plunked down on the bed and took a deep breath.

  “So, Agent Smart, how was your day?” I asked politely.

  “Oh, um, fine,” she replied. Clearly, she hadn’t been expecting a question about her day. “Actually, much of my day has been taken up with issues that might interest you.”

  “Ah,” was all I said.

  “We have confirmation that the Mizuchi is here, in L.A.,” Agent Smart continued. She paused, as if she were expecting a reaction.

  “Yes,” I finally agreed, since I wasn’t sure what else to say. I’d made the same claim for weeks, to no avail.

  “Washington has approved protection for you and Ms. Bernardi for the duration of the trial,” Agent Smart added. “We’ll have a team meet you at the courthouse tomorrow morning before the trial. They’ll stay with you from that point on.”

  “Are we going to be placed in a safe location, or can we stay where we are?” I asked.

  “For now, we’ll leave you where you are,” she replied. “We can revisit that choice if it becomes necessary.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. The long day in court followed by the workout at the gym was starting to kick in, and I was losing interest in the phone call.