“All of those rules are good ones. Good rules that Jolly Boy didn’t break. This is just a show. This is just an attempt for these people to get rich quick.”
Harrison Grant’s eyes dropped in sadness, and then he continued.
“Jolly Boy is a company that’s grown the food that we all eat since the 1940s. You aren’t in business that long if you’re doing all the terrible things that it was just accused of doing.”
Harrison Grant smiled and shook his head, belittling Jane and the case against them at every moment.
Harrison Grant raised his eyebrows.
“Killing people!” He shook his head. “If I sound upset, that’s because I am. That’s an outrageous accusation, and there’s not a single shred of evidence to support it.”
Harrison Grant looked around the ornate courtroom, taking it in.
“You have the task of listening to the evidence and doing what is right. That’s what makes this place and your work so special.”
Harrison Grant stepped closer to the jury box, and then continued in a whisper.
“Jolly Boy and Mr. McNaughten are good. They didn’t do anything wrong. They didn’t break the rules.”
Harrison Grant stepped back. His secret moment with the jury over.
“What happened to Mr. Estrada is very sad,” Grant continued. “But, these attorneys can’t blame us for something we didn’t do. There’s no evidence to support it. But here’s a quick list of the testimony that you actually will hear from the Plaintiffs over the next few days: First, Tommy Estrada lied to Jolly Boy about his immigration status. He lied and obtained a false identification card and used a false Social Security card to obtain employment with us. Jolly Boy didn’t violate any immigration law. Tommy Estrada broke the rules. He may have had very legitimate financial reasons to do so. He may have wanted to support his family. But Jolly Boy didn’t know about that, and if Jolly Boy had, my client wouldn’t have hired him. This isn’t 10 or 20 years ago. The stakes are too high.”
Harrison Grant took a step toward the jury. He was just getting started.
“Second, Tommy Estrada never told Jolly Boy he was sick. I won’t get into the details now, but keep this in mind: If a person doesn’t know you are sick, then they can’t fire you because you are sick. You will not hear one person testify that Tommy Estrada told Jolly Boy that he was sick, and you certainly won’t hear anybody say that Mr. Brian McNaughten knew about it. Brian is the CEO of a major corporation. He has thousands of shareholders. He serves on four other corporate boards. He manages a multimillion dollar company. Even if he wanted to, Mr. McNaughten doesn’t check to see who called in sick. Just think about that. Think about Bill Gates or the President of the United States keeping personal tabs on every single employee. This isn’t the local gas station with fifteen employees. Jolly Boy employs over 3000 people and has even more independent contractors.” Harrison Grant laughed a little, and Michael watched with dismay as a few of the jurors laughed along with him.
“Now as it relates to the spraying of fields and when workers are allowed to go pick crops after the fields have been sprayed, again,” he paused, “it never happened.”
Grant took a step to the side, drank a little water, and then continued.
“You may ask yourself, how can they be so sure? Because Jolly Boy knows that its customers want a healthy and safe product. So they’ve invested in sophisticated computer tracking system. This system tracks every field that supplies its produce, and every morning a list of fields goes out to its managers. It tells them what fields to pick and what fields to stay away from. Managers are trained as to what to do and what not to do. Could a manager have made a mistake or misread one of these lists?” Harrison Grant tilted his head back and forth, as if weighing the possibility.
“Maybe. I’m going to level with you: Maybe.”
He turned to Judge Delaney and pointed.
“But the judge will instruct you at the end of the trial that a mistake and error like that by a manager does not break the rules. You can’t hold a big company or a person like Mr. McNaughten responsible for a mistake like that. You will never hear one person testify that Jolly Boy knew a field had been sprayed and deliberately sent workers into that field. It never happened.”
He shook his head.
“In the end, Ms. Nance and the plaintiff may be able to tell us what the rules are, but they can’t prove Jolly Boy and Brian McNaughten broke the rules. Why? Because they didn’t.”
Harrison Grant went back to the podium. He gathered up his things. And then, as he walked back to the defense table, he added, “And I apologize in advance for these people wasting your time.”
Jane and Michael heard it, but couldn’t believe it. Harrison snuck it in so quickly that they both hesitated. Michael wanted to object, but then he thought that wouldn’t look right. Jane was the lead attorney, and, if he objected, that would under-cut her authority in front of the jury.
Jane looked at Michael and began to stand, but then sat back down in her seat. The moment had passed. They were too slow. The jury had heard the comment, and to object now would only look clumsy.
Both Jane and Michael realized that there was a reason Harrison Grant charged his clients so much money.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The rest of the afternoon didn’t go any better.
Jane and Michael called two witnesses. They were former Jolly Boy employees that Kermit had found living outside of Cancun and working as maintenance workers at a mega-resort.
Both of them seemed scared. The confidence that they had in their initial interviews with Michael and Kermit was gone. They shifted in their seats. The pauses and breaks between words made them seem spacey and unreliable. And then Harrison Grant disposed of both of them in exactly the same way. He had five simple questions.
“When you applied for the job at Jolly Boy, you didn’t tell them that you were illegal and you were using fake documents. Right?”
“And you never reported to anyone at Jolly Boy that you thought the fields were unsafe. Right?”
“And you never spoke to Tommy Estrada about his experiences and illness. Right?”
“In fact, you didn’t even know Tommy Estrada. Correct?”
“You’re just here because these attorneys somehow found you in Mexico, and said they would give you a free trip to Florida to testify. Is that what happened?”
It didn’t matter what the answers were. The damage was done. Jolly Boy had won the first day of trial.
###
“Damn it.” Jane threw her briefcase down on the conference room table. She folded her arms and looked up at the ceiling. Every muscle in her body was tight.
Going into the case, they knew that there were problems with causation and damages. They knew that it was going to be difficult to prove that Jolly Boy and Brian McNaughten knew what was going on in their fields and didn’t do anything. But, there was always the thought that the jury would connect the dots.
It seemed obvious to Jane. Living in Jesser and personally seeing the workers in the fields, the problems were everywhere. They couldn’t be avoided. How could anyone not know what was going on? If Jane knew what was happening, of course Jolly Boy knew how the crops were being picked at such a low cost.
But, sitting in a Miami courtroom with jurors who had never been to a farm and hadn’t thought twice about where the food in their grocery cart came from, connecting the dots was different. It became harder. The courtroom environment was sterile. There was no context.
Jane and Michael saw it now. They saw why Harrison Grant was so confident.
If the jurors themselves were ignorant about the workers in the field, then it wouldn’t be too difficult to convince them that Jolly Boy was ignorant about it too.
The underlying argument that Jolly Boy made was simple. It was in everybody’s interest to ignore reality. Cheap food benefited everybody, and, if the working conditions and pay were so bad, the Mexicans would’ve stopped coming. But they had
n’t. Every week the newspaper had another story about the wave of illegal immigrants and the so-called “browning of America.”
Michael checked his watch. Judge Delaney wanted to see them. He didn’t know why.
“You calm?” He looked at Jane, and then he looked at the door. “We have to go.”
Jane put her hands together, trying to stop them from shaking.
“I can’t believe I did this. I’m going to go bankrupt.”
“It’s fine. We just have to keep going.”
Jane shook her head.
“It was a mistake.”
Then there was a knock on the conference room door.
Kermit didn’t wait for a response. He just opened it and stuck his head in.
“We got a problemo, yo.”
Michael and Jane looked at each other. They tried to think of what else could go wrong, but couldn’t.
“What are you talking about?” Michael asked.
“Roberto Estrada.” Kermit shook his head. “Can’t find him. I told him that I’d come and pick him up this morning at the Waffle House, since we didn’t know when he’d testify.” Kermit’s eyes got wide. “But he didn’t show. I been all over town, man. I can’t find that dude.”
###
Jane and Michael sat in Judge Delaney’s chambers. They sat in silence. It was like they were still in elementary school, waiting in the principal’s office. They’d been bad.
They heard the judge in the outer office. He told his law clerk that he was going to be working late, and asked her to order him a sandwich for dinner. Then he came into his chambers, took off his suit jacket and sat down.
He looked at Michael and Jane. The twinkle hadn’t entirely left his eye, but there was a bit of sadness.
“They’re willing to pay you $5,000 to go away with a confidentiality agreement.” Judge Delaney looked at Jane. “I could probably convince them to give you a little something extra for costs, but that wasn’t their offer. They offered to pay your costs before trial started. After this afternoon, I can’t say that I’m too confident they’d offer it again.”
“Did they say anything else?” Jane’s voice was flat.
Judge Delaney nodded. “Two things,” he said. “First, the offer is good until tomorrow morning at eight, and, second, no more offers. They mean it this time. They want to make an example of you. They say that, when you lose, they’re going to be seeking sanctions and attorneys’ fees.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Michael shook his head.
Judge Delaney looked at him, but he didn’t respond. He didn’t tell Michael that it wasn’t ridiculous at all. Instead, Judge Delaney stood, turned, and stretched while looking out his large window.
He waited a minute, watching the traffic below.
“The truth is, Mr. Collins, they didn’t even want to offer you the five grand, but I sort of made them. I’ve got some golfing to do, and I also don’t like good people like Ms. Nance going broke so early in their careers. You both tried to do the right thing, but you’re coming up short. You know it. I know it, and Harrison Grant knows it, too.”
Jane looked down, thinking about her unpaid bills and credit cards. She wondered if she should tell Judge Delaney that Roberto Estrada wasn’t going to testify. They didn’t have much causation to begin with, and Tommy’s cousin was as close as they got. Now he had disappeared.
Judge Delaney turned away from the window.
“Why don’t you two sleep on it? Come back tomorrow and let me know after talking with your client. I’ll work on Mr. Grant some more to see if he’ll pay some of your costs. God knows he can afford it.”
###
Jane wanted to accept the offer. The first day of trial had been brutal, and with Roberto Estrada gone, their chances of success were that much worse. But, it wasn’t her call. She and Michael could advise, but only the client could accept or reject a settlement offer.
Jane and Michael walked across the hall to the same conference room that they had been in before. It was also the same room where Michael had made Elana a promise of success less than 24 hours ago.
They opened the door. Pace was in the corner thumbing through the soccer magazine 4-4-3. Elana Estrada waited by the window. Like Judge Delaney, she was watching the cars and people swirl below.
“Want to have a seat?” Michael pulled out a chair for her.
Elana eventually turned, looked at the chair, and then shook her head, no. She continued to stand, looking out the window.
“You know, I never been this high before. Never been in a building this tall before I come here.” She looked up at the ceiling as if searching for her husband, Tommy.
“We didn’t expect there to be another settlement offer,” Jane said, “but they’ve offered $5,000, if you remain silent when this is done.” Jane looked at Michael. She was resigned to their fate. “I know Michael said that we’d win, but …” Jane shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
Elana stared at her. She could tell that Jane was telling the truth.
“Why take it now?”
“Roberto is gone,” Michael said. “We can’t find him to testify. We needed him.”
Elana pursed her lips. She looked at Pace, and then back at Michael.
“They kill him?”
Michael shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know what happened. We can’t find him, and he was our next witness.”
“They killed him.” Elana’s jaw clinched. “I know it.” Her face hardened. “If we lose, do I have to be silent? Can I talk about them? Can I talk about what they do to Tommy?”
Jane nodded. “Of course. You can say whatever you want.”
Elana thought for a moment, and then she turned to Pace. They spoke to one another in Spanish for a long time, but it was clear that she wanted a trial. Elana wasn’t going to settle. She had always been poor, and she had always survived. She wanted money, but she didn’t need it.
“They can’t silence me,” she said. “That’s not for sale.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kermit and the waitress at The Box were now on intimate terms. Despite the disturbing mental image of her and Kermit together and naked, both Michael and Jane were pleased with the more attentive customer service she was providing.
“Here you go.” She set a pitcher of cheap, watery beer down on the table.
“Thanks sweet-cheeks.” Kermit winked. She smiled and blushed. Then, Kermit gave her butt a gentle pat as she turned and walked away.
“I think you’re creating a hostile work environment.” Michael poured three glasses of beer.
“A hostile work environment for you?” Kermit reached out, grabbed a glass, and slid it towards himself.
“No.” Michael nodded toward the waitress. “A hostile work environment for her.”
“Don’t think so, mi amigo.” Kermit took a sip of beer and chased it with a handful of salty popcorn. “She’s lovin’ it, and I’m lovin’ that.” Kermit waved at her, smiling big. From across the room, she smiled and waved back.
“You’re sick,” Michael said. “I think you seriously have something wrong with you.”
“Beauty comes in many forms.” Kermit raised his glass and took a drink.
“Indeed.” Jane nodded, took a drink and then set the glass down. “You want to talk about work now or later?”
Michael shook his head.
“How about never?”
“Yo, bro.” Kermit’s dreadlocks bounced. “You gotta keep it positive. We got the Miggs coming up.”
“Miggy?” Both Michael and Jane said it in unison, pain in their voices.
“Miggs is a home-run.” Kermit made a motion, pretending he was hitting a baseball out of the ballpark.
“My boy’s going to get us a grand salami, my friends. You can take it to the bank.”
“I don’t know if we’re going to call him as a witness.” Michael looked at Jane, and then back at Kermit. “We had a rough day today, and –”
Michael lowered his voice. “I’m afraid we’re going to lose credibility. Miggy is going to start talking about ghosts and spirits, and then there’s the drug thing.”
“My boy Miggy is going to do you proud. He saw what he saw. It’s all there.”
Jane stepped in.
“But it’s not credible. He’s not credible.”
“That’s based on your own filters, yo.” Kermit pointed at Michael. “Using Korby’s model of general semantics, you just have to identify all the reasons you think he’s not credible and then address each one. Ask yourselves, what would make this dude credible? Then do it.”
Kermit stood.
“If you want to win, put some faith in Miggy. You all been dismissing him from the beginning.” Kermit shook his head. “You’re acting like arrogant lawyers.”
He picked up his glass of beer and started walking over to the bar.
“Kermit, come back here.” Michael started to stand.
“Let him go, Michael,” Jane said. “We don’t have time to explain it to him.”
Then Jane’s cell phone rang. She fished it out of her purse, turned it over so that she could see the screen.
“I have to take this.”
“Who is it?” Michael asked.
“The ex,” she said with a little bit of hope. Justin Kent had finally returned her call. “I have to go some place quiet and call him. See you later?”
Michael nodded, still looking over at Kermit.
“I have to talk with our partner over there,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Kermit quite this upset.”
“Fine,” Jane said. “Talk to him, just don’t drink too much and don’t promise to put Miggy on the stand. I know Kermit wants to, but it’d be a disaster.”
Jane kissed the top of Michael’s head.
“And, if you have a moment, it would be great if you could say a quick prayer that Justin has some good news for us.”
“I will,” said Michael, watching her go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The jurors looked bored and tired. It was the second day of trial and the novelty had already worn off. Each of the jurors had now realized that all they could do was sit and listen. They couldn’t ask questions. They couldn’t discuss the case among themselves until all the evidence had been presented and both sides had rested. The jurors also couldn’t talk about it with their husbands or wives. They couldn’t talk about it with their friends. They could only sit and listen. It was hard to listen.
J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die Page 13
