Legally Wasted (31 page)

Trevor thought for a moment.  “I believe
he did, but honestly, I was trying to tune him out.”

“Do you remember if he said where he might be
working after his clerkship ended?”

“Same objection, your Honor,” said Wendy.

“Sustained,” said the Judge.  “Mr.
Monroe, we’re wading in hearsay here.”

“Yes, your Honor.”  Larkin nodded toward
Trevor.  “He’s all yours, Ms. McAdams.”  Larkin walked
back to his seat.  “Good luck.”

“Mr. Meeks,” said Wendy before Larkin could
even seat himself.  “Isn’t it true that you assisted your
good friend
Larkin Monroe in breaking into and entering the
home of Justice Lloyd Byrd at Smith Mountain Lake?”

“You got that right,” said Trevor.  “I
like those boots.”

“Um,” said the Judge, “Mr. Meeks, perhaps I
should advise you of your Fifth Amendment right not to incriminate
yourself.”

“Gotcha,” said Trevor. He snapped his
fingers. “I will always take free legal advice from a federal
judge.”

“He’s already waived that privilege, your
Honor,” said Wendy as she drew closer to the witness stand. 
“His first statement was an admission.  He was advised of his
rights when he was arrested.”

“Your Honor?” asked Trevor.

“Yes?” asked the Judge.

“How come Ms.,” Trevor turned to Wendy, “what
was the name again?”

“McAdams,” said Wendy.

Trevor stared at her for a moment. “Ms.
McAdams,” he repeated before turning back to the Judge. “How come
Ms. McAdams can walk right up to me in those great boots and Mr.
Monroe had to ask for permission?”  Trevor again turned to
Wendy.  “Don’t get me wrong, Ms. McAdams, you can approach my
box any time.”

Giggles and nervous shoe shuffling could be
heard from the audience.

“Ms. McAdams,” said the Judge, “perhaps you
should - -”

“Permission to approach, your Honor?”

“Granted,” said the Judge. 

Wendy approached. “So you freely and
voluntarily admit that you and Mr. Monroe both broke into and
entered Justice Byrd’s home?”

“You heard me, Ms. McAdams.  I haven’t
stuttered since the second grade.”  A member of a news crew
laughed out loud.  Judge Wexler shook her head.

“Why were you assisting Mr. Monroe in his
felonious enterprise?”

“Enterprise?  We weren’t going into
business.”

“Why did you break into the house?”

“I think we were looking for some
evidence.”

“Evidence? Of What?”

Trevor looked to Larkin. 

“He can’t answer for you,” Wendy said. 
She gripped the edge of the witness box.  “You have to answer
my question.”

“To be honest,” started Trevor, “I’m a bit
unsure myself why we were there.  I know it had to do with
Larkin being framed for murdering this law clerk, and the Justice
had a part in it, but any more than that, I really can’t say.”

“You can’t say or you won’t say, Mr.
Meeks?”  She crossed her arms.

“Can’t.  I really had no clue at the
time what we were specifically looking for and I have no idea
now.”

Wendy raised her arms in dramatic
exasperation and looked at the Judge.  “So you’re telling this
Court that you, a wealthy, successful businessman and local
politician just all of a sudden decided to break into a Judge’s
home merely because your friend wanted you to help him?”

Trevor nodded.

“You’ll have to answer yes or no, Mr. Meeks,”
said Wendy.

“It’s Trevor,” said Trevor, “and you nailed
it.”

“You realize that there is no logic in that
answer.”

“Sure there is,” said Trevor.  “You
don’t know Larkin.  If he told me that he could fix things
with a little midnight shenanigans, I trusted him.  He’s a lot
brighter than you give him credit for.”

“Oh I know, Mr. Monroe,” said Wendy.
“Burglary, destruction of property, theft, these are not
shenanigans. They are felonies.”

Larkin shook his head, but smiled all the
same.  Trevor was getting under her skin.

“Well you don’t know him like I do, ma’am,”
said Trevor.  “And I tell you what, I bet that in under thirty
minutes, Larkin is going to not only free himself and me, but that
he’ll most likely prove who did murder that law clerk.”

Wendy laughed.  Larkin could not tell if
she was genuinely amused or simply laughing for show. The dynamics
between examiner and witness had flipped end over end. It was a
most extraordinary writ after all. Anything could happen. 
“That’s a bet I would take,” she said. People shifted in the
gallery. Wooden benches sighed. This was sweeps week material.

Trevor looked to Larkin. He sat wide-eyed and
paralyzed. Trevor nodded as if Larkin had suddenly made some
intentional gesture to instill confidence in his friend, but he had
done no such thing. “Fine,” said Trevor as he smacked the wooden
railing with the palm of his hand. The press jumped.  “If he
doesn’t fix all of this in the next thirty minutes, I’ll plead
guilty in state court.  No trial.  Nothing.  Dead to
rights.”

Wendy paused.  She stared at
Trevor.  With his toothy grin, it was truly impossible to
gauge his sincerity.  She opened her mouth, but Trevor cut her
off.

“And if he works his magic, I get to take you
out to Michael’s on Friday, say, eight o’clock.  We’ll meet
for one drink at the bar. Your bet is for that one drink. It will
be your choice after that drink if you want to stay and have dinner
with me, but I’ll make an 8:30 reservation for a table for two just
in case. ”

The courtroom burst into laughter.  It
took minutes to subside. The Judge pointed to her bailiffs who all
raised their arms as if quieting a grade school classroom.
“Objection, your Honor,” said Larkin as the rolling laughs began to
finally subside, “flirting.” More Laughs.

“Sustained,” said the Judge.  “Mr.
Meeks?  You are in a court of law not the Pine Room at the
Hotel Big Lick.”

Trevor continued to look into Wendy’s
eyes.  “Or we could go to the Pine Room,” he said. 
“Lady’s choice.”

“Your Honor,” said Wendy after staring at
Trevor for a moment too long, “I think I’m done with this
witness.”

“Do we have a bet?” asked Trevor.

Wendy returned to her table.

“Don’t chicken out on me, McAdams.  You
should feel strongly about your case and such. I know you do. You
have passion in your toes. Am I right?”

“Mr. Meeks - -” began the Judge.

“I want an answer,” Trevor said to Wendy.
“You get quite a headline if he doesn’t pull it off.”

“Fine,” she said. Her head shook in seeming
disapproval to what her mouth had just uttered.

Trevor nodded and smiled.  “Am I
excused, your Honor?”

“Immediately,” said the Judge. 
“Bailiff?”  The nearest bailiff hurried to the witness
stand.  “Mr. Meeks, I am remanding you to the custody of the
United States Marshal’s service.  They will be returning you
to the city jail.”

“Thanks, Judge,” said Trevor as he headed
unescorted to the holding cell door. Larkin felt that if one person
- - one single brave soul - - clapped their hands together, a
social dam would burst and the whole courtroom would applaud. What
an act.

“Your next witness, Mr. Monroe?”

Larkin stood.  “Your Honor, I would like
to call Ryan Meeks.”

The Judge whispered something to the deputy
clerk who in turn whispered something to a bailiff.  Not a
minute later, the back door of the courtroom opened and Ryan Meeks,
escorted by Trevor’s ex-wife, stepped into the courtroom. 
Despite being dressed in her Sunday best, no amount of pink lace
could conceal the nuclear energy wound tightly within that
child.  Ryan gazed with wide-eyed excitement at every angle of
the courtroom.  She smiled broadly and literally ran toward
the witness stand. She was in Disney Land.

“Can I testify?” Ryan asked as she leaped
into the witness stand. 

“You Honor,” said Wendy.  “How young is
this girl?  She can’t possibly - -”

“I’m eight,” said Ryan.  She grinned at
Wendy.  “Are you going to ask me questions now?”  Though
seated, she managed to still hop up and down repeatedly on her
chair.  Her excitement was too great to contain.

“Please raise your right hand, Miss Meeks,”
commanded the Judge.  Ryan did as she was told and the Judge
swore her in.  For a moment Ryan stood, eyes misted with tears
at her good fortune. She jumped from foot to foot until sitting
back down in the witness stand.  Her little blond head barely
peeped over the wooden railing.

“Your Honor,” said Wendy, her voice weakened
by her very public defeat in
Meeks v. McAdams
.  “I’m
going to object to this witness being called at this time.  I
have concerns for her best-interest, I have concerns regarding her
capacity to testify, and I renew my objection that all of this is
merely to act as some spectacle.”

“Mr. Monroe?” asked the Judge, “what do you
say?”

“Hello, Mr. Monroe!” Ryan shouted.

“Please be still, young lady,” said the
Judge.

“Oh,” said Ryan.  “Sure thing, your
Honor.”

Larkin stood.  “Your Honor, Ms. Meeks is
an integral fact witness.  She certainly has the capacity to
testify and the Court can look out for the child’s best
interests.”

“Your Honor!” shouted Wendy.

The Judge waved her hand.  “You can
voire dire her as to capacity, Ms. McAdams.  The Court will
look out for her best interests.”

Wendy shook her head.  She pointed to
the witness stand where Ryan bobbled and wiggled like a champagne
cork in a shaken bottle.  “May I?”

“You may,” answered the Judge.

Wendy approached the stand.  “Ms.
Meeks,” Wendy started, “are you related to Trevor Meeks?”

“He’s my daddy,” said Ryan.  She looked
back to Larkin.  “This is
so
cool.”

“What grade are you in school, Ms.
Meeks?”

“I’m in third grade.  I love your
hair.  It’s big and curly and blonde.  My hair’s
straight.  Are you the prosecutor?”

“Yes, I am.  Now, Ms. Meeks - -”

“Did you get your man? Because if it’s him,”
she pointed to Larkin, “it’s the wrong one. And just say, ‘Ryan.’
Are you going to object?”

“That depends, Ryan, if I - -”

“Objection!” Ryan shouted.  She melted
on the stand in a pink pile of lace and giggles.

“Your Honor!” said Wendy.

“Ryan?” asked the Judge.

“Yes?”

“Can you do your best to answer everyone’s
questions and only the questions that are asked of you?”

“Oh, sure,” she answered.

“Do you know the difference between the truth
and a lie?” the Judge asked.

“Of course,” said Ryan.  “Doesn’t
everybody?”

“Can you make sure that your answers are only
truthful?

“They always are,” said Ryan.

The Judge shook her head and smiled. 
“I’m going to allow her to testify, Ms. McAdams.  The Court is
both aware of the witness’ age and the fact that the acorn does not
fall far from the tree. Please continue, Mr. Monroe.”

“Thank you, Judge,” said Larkin.  “Ryan,
do you remember having a soccer game late last week?”

“Yep.  I got yellow-carded. But I didn’t
do it.”

“And do you remember riding home after the
game?”

“Yes, sir.  My daddy and you picked me
up.”

“Was there anyone else in the car?”

Ryan made a face as if she bit into a
lemon.  “Oh yeah,” she said.  “A real stinker.  My
daddy yelled at him for being mean to me.  He said he was a
lawyer, but not a real one.  Not like the blond lady in the
boots.”  Ryan raised her hands in the air as if to indicate
the entire courtroom.  “This is real lawyering.”

Wendy stood.  “Your Honor, I’m going to
object to hearsay again.”

“Overruled,” said the Judge.  “I’m going
to allow a little latitude with this witness given her age.”

“You say that this lawyer wasn’t a real
lawyer?” Larkin asked.

“Nope,” said Ryan.

“Do you remember his name?”

“Anthony,” said Ryan.  “Anthony the
Loser Not Lawyer.”

“Do you know where he’s going to work next
year?”

“Yes!  He said he was going to work in
New York and I was like, ‘all cool,’ but he was like not doing real
lawyer stuff so it turned out it wasn’t cool.”

“Do you know where he was going to work?”

Ryan nodded.  “I wrote it down on this
piece of paper,” she said.  She withdrew a purple square of
construction paper from her pocket.

“Objection,” said Ms. McAdams, “this is
highly inappropriate and is only meant to slander some poor man and
now possibly ruin a prospective professional relationship. 
And Mr. Monroe is drowning in hearsay.”

“Your Honor,” said Larkin, “the truth will
out today.  Ms. Meeks is allowed to refresh her memory with
her note.  And though this might be hearsay, it falls under
the hearsay exception of excited utterance.”

“Excited utterance?” asked the Judge, “how
so?”

“Allow me, your Honor,” said Larkin.  He
pointed to the witness stand and the Judge nodded.  “Ryan,”
said Larkin, “was this stinker, this Anthony, was he upset when he
talked to you?”

“Oh yeah.  Like all red in the
face.  A big tomato face with glasses.”

“How mad was he?”

“Super mad.”

“And did he tell you where he was planning to
work?”

“He more or less screamed it at me,” said
Ryan.  “He was so mad.  My daddy slammed on the brakes
and yelled at him because he got so mad.”

Larkin looked to the Judge and raised his
eyebrows. “Excited utterances,” he began, “survive the hearsay
rule with credibility intact.”

The Judge nodded.  “I’ll allow it,” she
said, “for what it’s worth.  Please read your note, Ms.
Meeks.”

Ryan smiled.  “It says, ‘Havish
Cromwell’.”  She placed the paper back in her pocket. 
“And I looked that up on the internet, your Honor,” she said. 
“There’s never been a lawyer from that firm on Law and Order. 
Not one.”