I Take You (34 page)

We call the judge’s chambers
on speaker phone and learn that he’s finishing up a hearing. We wait for over an hour, which Kostova spends glaring at me, Gran spends fidgeting with suppressed excitement and Pete spends sweating profusely.

Me? I’m busy taking notes.

Finally the phone crackles, and we hear muffled voices and the shuffling of papers.

“Six fifteen on a Friday, people,” the judge growls. “This better be good.”

“Your Honor,” Kostova begins, “I apologize for disturbing you, and I assure you that I would not have done so if I didn’t feel that the circumstances compelled me—”

“Your point, Counselor,” says the judge.

I’ve attended a handful of conferences and hearings in Judge Forster’s courtroom since this lawsuit was filed. I’ve always liked him. He’s prickly and no-nonsense, but generally pretty fair. I’ve never actually spoken to him before, though, and the prospect is suddenly terrifying.

“Your Honor,” Kostova says, “I have nothing but respect for the firm representing EnerGreen in this litigation. But in twenty-five years of practice I have never been so appalled at the conduct of counsel in a deposition as I have been today. Ms. Wilder’s behavior has been juvenile, offensive, demeaning and hugely inappropriate. She has made speeches on the record, blatantly coached her witness and otherwise behaved in a manner utterly unbecoming an officer of the court. Her aim appears
to be to disrupt the deposition and to conceal her witness’s utter lack of preparation.”

He goes on like this for a while, speaking in general terms, as I’d hoped he would. No experienced lawyer really wants to go crying to a judge that his opponent made singing objections and mocked his accent and was otherwise mean to him. Kostova seems confident that his towering outrage will convince the judge to punish me.

“In conclusion, Your Honor, I would ask that you order the witness to answer the questions I put to him without obfuscation, and that you order counsel for the defendant to follow the court’s rules and comport herself professionally. I think sanctions would not be out of order, but that, of course, is in Your Honor’s discretion.”

I hear some whispering from the judge’s clerk. Finally, the judge says: “Counsel for EnerGreen. You’re on.”

Everyone in the room looks at me.

I can do this. I’m totally in control!

I clear my throat, lean toward the speaker phone, and say something that sounds like, “Yuhaarrgh huuuuhnnurr?”

“Pardon?” Judge Forster says.

I’m nervous, okay? I get a grip and try again.

“Your Honor, this is Lillian Wilder. Thank you for the opportunity to respond. As I will explain in a moment, Mr. Kostova’s complaints about my conduct are without foundation. However, I have a more pressing matter to raise with you first. The record has established that the plaintiffs’ request for Mr. Hoffman’s deposition was defective. I therefore move that it be adjourned.”

Kostova’s mouth falls open. “What?”

“Mr. Kostova has elicited testimony establishing that Mr. Hoffman works for a subsidiary of EnerGreen, not the corporation itself,” I tell the judge. “That subsidiary is not a party to this lawsuit. Under this court’s rules, the plaintiffs should have issued a subpoena for Mr. Hoffman’s deposition. They did not. Accordingly, this deposition should be postponed until the plaintiffs correct their error.”

Kostova immediately begins to sputter. “This is ridiculous, Your Honor! EnerGreen consented to this deposition!”

“Is that so, Ms. Wilder?” the judge asks. “Did you consent?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“You have also permitted it to go forward for several hours today, have you not?”

“Let me explain our thinking on that, Your Honor. We have sought to abide by this court’s rules that the parties work together in good faith to resolve discovery disputes. Plaintiffs were eager to depose Mr. Hoffman, and in the interest of professional courtesy, we agreed. That professional courtesy was not reciprocated when we attempted to reschedule the deposition because of the blizzard on the East Coast. Plaintiffs refused our request, which meant that Mr. Gardiner, the partner in charge of the case for EnerGreen, was not able to attend.” I pause. “And that, Your Honor, takes me to my second issue: the abusive behavior Mr. Kostova has demonstrated toward myself and my witness.”

“What?” Kostova cries.

“Mr. Kostova has bullied me for making perfectly appropriate objections, has lectured me at length over trivialities and has chastised me for trying to do my job. I could take all that if it were not for the rudeness and abuse he has heaped on my witness. With your permission, Your Honor, I am now going to do something that Mr. Kostova, in his lengthy attack on my alleged conduct, did not do. I’m going to give you some examples.” I turn to the stenographer. “Could you please read page forty-three, lines twenty-four through twenty-six?”

The stenographer reads in a monotone:

Witness: Could you repeat the question, please?

Mr. Kostova: Dammit!

Kostova says, “Your Honor, what the transcript doesn’t show is that a glass of water—”

“You’ll have your turn in a moment, Mr. Kostova,” the judge says. “Right now Ms. Wilder has the floor.”

“Madam Stenographer,” I say, “could you now read from page sixty-two of the transcript, lines twelve through fifteen?”

The stenographer obliges.

“Your Honor,” Kostova says. “This is not—”

“And could you read page seventy-six, line nine?”

“Your Honor,” I say, “I understand that Mr. Kostova is frustrated that he is not able to elicit the testimony that he wants from my witness. But that’s no justification for this sort of behavior. As Mr. Kostova knows, this is my first time defending a deposition. I can’t help but think he’s taking unfair advantage of my inexperience.”

There is a long pause. Kostova is purple with outrage. “Mr. Kostova,” the judge says at last, “why didn’t you agree to postpone the deposition?”

“Your Honor, I was already en route to the Keys when counsel for the defendant called and demanded that the deposition be delayed. To be frank, given the explosive nature of some of the documents pertaining to this witness, I suspected that they were using the weather as a pretext.”

“A pretext?” the judge says incredulously. “Have you been watching the news, Counselor? They’re calling this the storm of the century. It’s stretching from Boston down to the Carolinas. The Weather Channel has even named the darned thing. What are they calling it?” We hear some whispering on the other end. “Pluto!” the judge cries. “They’re calling it Pluto! The ninth planet! Ruler of the underworld, Mr. Kostova. This snow is serious business!”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Kostova says uncertainly.

“You couldn’t accommodate a reasonable request to delay the deposition?” The judge is getting worked up now. “Instead, you decide to come running to me, late on a Friday, with a bunch of complaints about a junior associate who’s supposedly making your life difficult?”

Kostova protests. “Your Honor, Ms. Wilder is deliberately interfering with my ability to question this witness. Her citations to the record completely fail to provide the context for what has happened here today.”

“Do you have anything specific that you wish to cite in support of your contention that it is Ms. Wilder, and not you, who has behaved with an extreme disregard for decorum and professional courtesy, both before and during this deposition?”

I smile at Kostova. Go ahead, I think. Tell him I made faces at you and gave you paper animals. Tell him that you let a lady lawyer rattle you, and that you lost your temper. Let’s see how well that goes over.

Kostova doesn’t have time to go through the transcript and look for examples. The judge is waiting.

“She hummed, Your Honor,” Kostova says at last. “And there was a … she made a swan—”

“Am I to understand, Mr. Kostova, that you are seeking my intervention in a deposition because opposing counsel was
humming
?”

“Your Honor,” he says, “if you will give me a moment, I will try to find some examples of her distracting behavior, and the long speeches that she has made, but—”

“Speeches, Mr. Kostova?” The judge chuckles. “My, my. If I were to sanction every attorney who made speeches on the record, the whole lot of you would be in jail.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Kostova says.

“Probably not a bad idea,” the judge adds. “Now, give me a moment.”

Silence.

I close my eyes and pray.

“I’m adjourning this deposition,” he says.

“I’ll be damned,” Gran mutters.

“You should have agreed to the postponement, Mr. Kostova,” the judge continues. “It would have been the professional thing to do.”

“But Your Honor,” Kostova protests, “we’ve already started, and—”

“I’m not going to get drawn into some he-said-she-said here,” the judge continues. “It sounds to me as though everybody needs to cool off. I suggest that you sort out your procedural issue and reschedule the deposition for a few weeks from now. I have no doubt that EnerGreen’s counsel will be both accommodating and professional. Isn’t that right, Ms. Wilder?”

“Absolutely, Your Honor.” I smile broadly at Kostova.

“Your Honor,” he says, “I would ask—”

“Save it, Counselor. I’ve made my ruling. Have a good weekend, everyone,” the judge says, and hangs up.

The stenographer’s fingers are hovering over her machine. “Are we done?” she asks.

“We’re done,” I say, not quite believing it myself. She types in a few final lines and begins packing up her things. The videographer is already wrapping up his cables. I unclip my microphone.

Kostova is staring at me with murder in his eyes.

“You said you wanted a ruling,” I say innocently.

“If he knew half of what went on here,” he says.

Gran says, “If you want something to appear in the record, you need to make sure it shows up on the transcript.”

“I’m going to get the video of this deposition in front of the judge immediately,” Kostova tells me. “I’m going to seek sanctions against your firm and against you personally. You’re in for a world of trouble, young—”

He stops himself. I smile at him. “Say it again. Wait until you see what I’ve got for an encore.”

He throws his papers into his briefcase and storms out.

“Is it really over?” Pete asks.

“For now,” I say. “But don’t get too comfortable.”

“I sure won’t.”

“You should think about updating your résumé.”

“I sure will.”

“You might want to hire your own lawyer.”

“Can I hire you?” he asks hopefully.

“Hell no! But you can hire her.” I point at Gran.

She looks up from her handbag. “What?”

“Give the man your contact information, Izzie. You’re back in business.”

Pete takes her number and says good-bye and scurries out the door. Gran and I turn to each other.

“Lillian Grace Wilder,” she says slowly. “That was reckless, dangerous and almost entirely unethical.”

I sigh. “I know, Gran. I know.”

She hugs me hard. “I haven’t had that much fun in years!”

I open my laptop and call Urs on Skype. Soon his round face, framed by severely parted coal-black hair, is peering back at me through the screen. As quickly as possible, I tell him everything. Pete’s e-mails. The truth about the fraud. Urs’s pale face gets paler. I go step by step through the deposition, concluding with the call to the judge. His wide eyes get wider. When I’m finished, he gawps at me for a long time.

Gran taps the screen. “Is it frozen?”

“This fraud,” Urs says slowly, in his precise, accented voice. “This fraud is … how big is this fraud?”

“Fifteen billion dollars,” I say.

Urs seems to wobble, but it could be the Wi-Fi in the conference room. “This witness, Hoffman,” he says. “He is prepared to testify about it?”

“He’s too dumb to be stopped.”

Urs begins, quietly, to hyperventilate. Then he drops off the screen. Gran and I exchange a glance. I hope I’m not causing cardiac arrest in yet another lawyer.

In a moment, Urs reappears, smoothing his hair back into place with one hand. “Now, you say you paused this deposition, and you made an argument to the judge, and with this argument you provided citations to the transcript that were … how would you characterize them? Somewhat misleading? Very misleading?”

“Misleading-ish?” I suggest.

He gazes at me hopelessly. “This is normal litigation practice in America?”

“Normal or not, she saved your ass!” Gran cries, getting all up in the screen so that the only thing visible is her scary old-lady eyeball.

Urs rears back. “Lily? Who is this fearsome person?”

“My grandmother,” I say. “And your local counsel.”

Urs clutches his head. “I am very confused.”

“Listen, Urs. Here’s the point. What I did worked—for now. But as soon as the plaintiffs get the video of this deposition, they’re going to file a motion that will show the judge how I misled him. Our credibility will be shot, we’ll be heavily sanctioned and the judge will order the deposition
to resume. EnerGreen has to accept the current settlement proposal. Immediately.”

“As you know, I have little influence over my superiors. I cannot guarantee that they will listen.”

“You have to
make
them listen, Urs. I just put myself on the line for a bunch of crooks, and they have to make it right—for the plaintiffs and for me. Tell them that if they don’t settle right away, I’m going to resign and tell the court everything I know. And I know a lot.”

Urs nods slowly. “Yes. Yes, that should persuade them.”

“They also have to fix their accounting problems, or I’m going straight to the DOJ.”

“Very well,” he says. “All will be relayed.”

“I think that’s it. Any questions?”

Urs shakes his head. “This has been a distressing call for me. But thank you, Lily and Lily’s grandmother. You have done excellent work. I will praise you to Philip when he recovers.”