“You’ll get sick,” Sophia said.
“Not me.” Paul grabbed the cookies. “Coming, Tricia?”
“You go ahead. Girl talk. And remember the funeral. Tomorrow. Eleven. Right?”
“Yes.” Paul took a bite of another cookie and left, chewing.
When the door shut behind Paul, Tricia asked, “Have you thought about talking to Detective Rutger now that you let the cat out of the bag about Roger? I saw him going into Dante’s office when Paul and I went to get the cookies.”
“I’m not talking to him. I’m not going to be in the middle.”
“Because of Taylor?”
“That’s part of it. But everyone has an agenda. The cops have their code of silence and we have our own. I have to be certain before I betray our code by becoming a star witness in a murder trial. The cops aren’t always right.”
“I know. I’m just glad I’m not you!” Tricia got up to leave. “I have to get my work done and get out of here. Jay’s making us a romantic dinner tonight.”
“Cool.” Sophia envied Tricia’s relationship. “See you tomorrow.”
⌘
Chapter 57
Standing on Shifting Sands
Sophia finished her memo on standing. She addressed it to Toak and cc’d the file. It was lean, but clear. She typed it herself, avoiding any tip off through Marlene or word-processing.
She took the memo up to Carlisle’s office as planned.
“He’s not busy.” Violet looked up from her keyboard. “Go on in.”
Sophia tapped on the door and went in. Carlisle gestured for her to sit while he finished dictating. She listened to the very efficient man dictating a series of interrogatories in a securities case. She thought about Tricia and Violet’s history and knew Violet never stonewalled Carlisle.
“I’m sorry,” Sophia apologized when Carlisle gave her his attention. “Violet said you weren’t busy.”
“I’m not. Just finishing up before tomorrow. Frank’s funeral, you know.”
“Yes, I’m so sorry.”
“Do you have the time to go?”
“Of course. I’ll be there. I feel so badly about his death.” Sophia spewed the automated necessities and then got down to her business so that she would not get another third degree about San Francisco. “I need to run something by you, if you don’t mind. It won’t take long.”
“Sure. My door is always open.”
“It’s about a case. Or, a situation with a case.” Sophia explained the standing problem in detail, and then handed him her memo.
Carlisle read the memo. He set it down on his desk and then sat looking at it quietly for a long minute, which seemed like an hour to Sophia.
“You are a very good lawyer,” Carlisle began. “Your analysis is correct. Mr. Higgins has no standing to bring this motion. And the court will dismiss it for lack of standing . . . no doubt about that.”
“And since Mr. Higgins has no standing to bring this motion, it’s a waste of time to focus on scienter. It doesn’t matter for the purpose of this motion whether Mr. Higgins knew about any alleged fraud or not.” Sophia then added, with transparent false humility, “I was worried that I had missed something. That’s why I came to you.”
“You missed nothing.” Carlisle lasered in on Sophia. “And I know what you are worried about. That you have no witness of consequence to this error that has cost the client so much.”
“Really I . . .”
“Sophia.” Carlisle stopped her politely, but firmly. “You have one now. Put the memo in the file, email it as an attachment to Daniel, and then go and talk to him. If he asks, you can say I initiated a conversation with you about your assignments and you discussed them all with me, including his. Bill a .5 conference with C. Sanderson re: standing on motion for summary judgment for the Higgins case. That will put a shot across his bow. It will let him know that the Management Committee knows what he and his team have done.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You’re not. You have done the ethical thing. You’re comfortable with that. But once you talk to Daniel, it’s his decision what to do with your information about standing. And you will never work for him again. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes. I don’t have a choice.”
“Correction. You have made your choice.”
Violet stuck her head in. “The security man is here.”
“Thank you, Violet. May I keep this copy of the memo, Sophia?”
“Yes. And thank you.”
“Any time.”
She knew Carlisle meant “any time” because she had given him valuable information that he could use against Toak, if not his whole team, in the future. Information truly was power at this firm.
When she left, a man went in wearing a blue jump suit with an orange label saying Bell Security and Surveillance.
As the man shut the door he said, “I have the final plans for tomorrow.”
“They’re beefing up security?” Sophia asked Violet.
“Looks like it. I think in the stairwells and the garage. It’s been in the works a while, but with cameras there were confidentiality issues with clients. I personally don’t see why. Did you get what you needed from Carlisle?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Sophia was having second thoughts, but her course had been set once she talked to Carlisle.
⌘
Chapter 58
Email Massacre
On the way back from Carlisle’s office, Sophia went by the cafeteria for a couple of diet colas. Going back to her office, she slipped unnoticed by Marlene and Toak, who was on his office phone with his door open.
At her desk, Sophia drank one of her colas and gathered her courage. She emailed the memo to Toak. She put a copy of the memo, with her initials next to her name, in the file. There was no going back, not that there was anyway after her conversation with Carlisle.
Sophia took several deep breaths, got up, grabbed the box of documents with the memo, and went to Toak’s office.
Toak’s office door was still open and he was still on the phone sitting at his desk. He saw Sophia and signaled her to come in and sit down. She put the box next to her on the floor and waited.
Toak hung up and actually smiled. “I see you’re done reviewing the motion.”
“Yes.”
“That was fast. I guess you weren’t as busy as you thought, huh?”
“Well, that’s . . .”
“Never mind. At least, now I can get it filed. It is a perfect example of nailing your opponent with pre-trial motions. You’ll learn.”
“I need to talk to you about what I found.”
“Of course.” Toak gave her only half his attention as he searched through a stack of papers.
“I . . .”
“Well?” Toak pulled a document out and skimmed through it.
“I . . . I don’t think Charles Higgins has standing to bring this motion. I studied the complaint and the answer and the motion. There is just no standing. The law . . .”
Toak stopped reading. “What do you mean?”
“I did a memo to the file and emailed it to you.”
“I’ll look at it, but you’re new at this. I've had a team working on this motion for months. Don’t you think you should just remove your memo from the file before you embarrass yourself?”
“I don’t.”
“Fine. I’ll read it. We’re done.” Toak threw the document he was skimming on his desk.
As she left Toak’s office, her hands began to shake and she heard him say, “So much for Frank’s little darling.”
As Sophia passed Marlene, she walked straight and proud. She went into her office, shut the door, and calmed down.
* * *
One problem solved, Sophia decided, as she sat at her desk and looked out the window. No more Toak ever. He was pissed.
Sophia smiled, turned back to her desk, and looked at her office phone. Now to Taylor. She had decided he deserved a
second chance. That the two of them deserved a second chance.
She picked up the phone and called Taylor’s cell. It went to message.
“Taylor, it’s me. Let’s talk.”
It was late afternoon and Sophia went through her emails. Beth had sent a global email welcoming her to the firm and disseminating her contact information. There was a save-the-date memo for the Ojai firm retreat that Taylor had mentioned at her recruiting dinner. It was coming up soon. The memo announced that despite Frank’s and Judith’s deaths, they were going to keep to the tradition of their annual retreat. Or, Sophia thought, the partners were going to keep their traditional golf excursion and avoid the cancellation fees.
Ojai was about two hours away, non-rush hour. Sophia knew retreats were a huge deal and all the attorneys were required to go, absent extraordinary circumstances. Most of them brought their spouses. Despite a lack of technical expertise on her new phone and with some effort, she calendared the long weekend in her electronic calendar. Then she looked at it proudly, but billables called her.
From the bookcase, Sophia took Chet’s Super Vacuums v. Vacuum Cities, the Mississippi federal court case that Taylor headed. She started learning the file for an excuse to see Taylor, in case he didn’t call back. Besides, all her friends were on it too. Chet’s cases were staffed with lawyers at all levels of knowledge and billing rates, from associates who did the grunt work to Taylor who would strategize with the senior partner.
Sophia emailed the librarian requesting a pick up of the summary judgment material and asking for material on federal procedure and practice for the Mississippi Vacuum case. First, she started reading about Super Vacuums on the Internet. The Internet was a revealing tool that she had learned to use to maximum effect from an excellent litigator at Bode. On obscure pages, he had sometimes found defining things about opposing parties that he later used in his litigation.
Super Vacuums’ business website was extensive, colorful and user-friendly for vacuum distributors, franchisees, and customers. The Mississippi newspapers Sophia found online were sprinkled with articles about their very lawsuit.
When Sophia had exhausted the Internet and read the pleadings, she jotted down some depositions to notice. She thought of activating the case before opposing counsel did. Part of her motivation was to get to travel with Taylor to Mississippi. She didn’t know if Chet would go for it, but she knew from law school that the best defense is a good offense.
Sophia put her head down on her desk for a moment to rest her eyes and fell asleep. The office phone awakened her.
“Get down here,” Toak ordered.
“Sure.”
Sophia knew he had read her memo.
Sophia gulped her other, now warm, diet cola for a boost. She brushed her hair and put on some lipstick for her victory march back to Toak’s office.
* * *
In Toak’s office, Sophia didn’t sit down and he didn’t ask her to.
“I read your email. Is the memo already in the file?”
“Yes.”
“It’s wrong. And I decided I would give you one last chance to take it out of the file and keep this to yourself.”
“I don’t think so. I . . .”
“You are arrogant and wrong. You think you know more than my whole team?”
“No, but my assignment was to review the motion with a fresh eye. The motion is excellent, except for the standing issue.”
“Don’t condescend to me,” Toak shouted. “And there is no standing issue. I’ll be writing off your time.”
“Okay.”
Sophia was calm and was enjoying Toak’s red face exploding with anger. She could not resist needling him more with her trump card. She would never work with this putz again anyway, and didn’t want to. He and his girlfriend could take a hike, preferably off the edge of a cliff.
She added, “I had a .5 conference with Carlisle about it. Are you going to write that off as well?”
“A conference with Carlisle about my case?”
“Yes, he was just getting an update on my assignments and work. We spent an interesting half hour discussing standing.”
“Get out of my office.”
Sophia got out, but took her own sweet time. Toak was checkmated and a fool.
“Move your ass. Get out now.”
Sophia smiled as she walked past Marlene. She mused that Marlene had pumped up poor Toak’s “little brain” so much that the one in his head had atrophied.
⌘
Chapter 59
Willing Witness for the Prosecution?
Back at her desk, Sophia swiveled her chair and looked out the window. She relished putting Toak in his place. He was a philanderer with a stonewalling, useless secretary. And he was a lousy attorney who had made partner because he got his clients from Daddy. Toak had called her arrogant. At least her arrogance, unlike his, was not born of ignorance.
Thanks to Carlisle, putting the nail in Toak’s summary judgment coffin was clean and easy. The one thing she had learned in this process, however, was that she must never cross Carlisle. He was decisive and ruthless. Sophia was reassured, however, that she was protected by her honesty and ethics. Carlisle had seemed to approve of them and her decision.
When she turned back to her desk, she saw her phone message light blinking. She check the messages: the librarian reported back that the federal court materials would be in her office by close of business unless she needed them sooner; Paul asked circumspectly how everything had gone; Tricia wanted to talk about whether she should bring Jay to the firm retreat; the detective announced that he’d be dropping by; and the last, and only important message to her, was Taylor wanted to talk and said he’d call back.
“Yes,” Sophia breathed happily.
She needed to get billing before the detective came and ate up more of her “Taylor time.” She had already made up her mind that she was not going to be the cornerstone of the detective’s investigation. She felt valued by Carlisle and a real part of Thorne & Chase now. And Taylor had returned her call.
Sophia looked at Chet’s Mississippi vacuum files stacked on her desk. She had to finish reviewing the pleadings file and then review the correspondence file to get a good feel for the opposing attorney. She set the file with discovery requests and the responses aside for last. There were no deposition transcripts yet. Sophia liked that. She could take some of the depositions.
Sophia had trouble focusing. She was worried about the fact that no one else on the summary judgment team had seen the standing issue or, worse, had chosen to sandbag it. But she forced it out of her mind. It was done. She shouldn’t second-guess herself now.
She switched to reading on the Internet about the opposing attorney and the federal district court judge. She could focus well enough for that. She perused the Mississippi State Bar site, the legal newspapers, and then the regular Mississippi newspapers. Sophia followed up with Westlaw and Lexis searches for any Mississippi or federal appellate cases brought by the opposing attorney. Then for fun, she Googled and Facebooked the judge, the opposing attorney, and Vacuum Cities, seeking any useful information.
After forty-five billable minutes, Sophia knew more than she wanted to about the players in this case.
Her phone rang. She hoped it was Taylor with some dialogue that made everything better.
“Sophia Christopoulos,” she answered, as Taylor had instructed her.
“Is your cell phone off? I called and texted,” Tricia blurted. “Detective Rutger is on his way to see you! Get your game face on.”
“Damn, I don’t want to be interrogated. Or flirted with. I am not in the mood. I just got through with Toak.”
“How did it go?”
“He was really mad and I enjoyed it too much. But I think I might have made a big mistake. I know at least I will never have to work for him again.”
“Don’t worry about it. You have Carlisle on your side. And as far as the detective goes, I didn’t tell him anything. It is pret
ty easy to avoid answering. His interrogation techniques are transparent, but I maintain that he’s not bad to look at. If I didn’t have Jay I’d . . .”
“You’re incorrigible!”
“Later.” Tricia hung up.
Sophia grabbed her purse to leave. When she opened the door, Detective Rutger was already walking down the hall towards her office.
“Sophia!” he called. “Do you have a minute?”
“I was just . . .” she hesitated because she knew it was really too early for her to say she was leaving and besides, she was waiting for Taylor’s call. “It can wait. Come in.”
The detective did and closed the door, as usual, as if anything she said wasn’t megaphoned to his superiors and the remaining Management Committee members.
“Please, sit down.” Sophia sat back down and put her purse back in the Doug-calendar drawer. “What can I do for you?”
“Dinner would be nice.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dinner.”
“Dinner? I didn’t . . .”
“Expect that invite, again?” The detective finished Sophia’s sentence and enjoyed the look of surprise on her face.
“No, I . . . What for this time?”
“We could talk about the case in private and . . . enjoy ourselves?”
“Oh? In private, huh? I think this is private enough, and I don’t enjoy you or your interrogations.”
“Another time.”
“You don’t give up, do you?” Sophia placated her annoyance by shuffling her files around on her desk.
“No, I don’t, but I’ll get to the point.” The detective was deflated but not defeated.
“It seems you did.”
“Another point . . . I need a reliable ID of Roger at the scene of Frank’s death.”
“We’ve danced this dance before. I can’t.” Sophia unnecessarily moved three more files successively and deliberately from a stack close by.
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