Love In The Time Of Apps (35 page)

A young attorney approached Goodwin and introduced himself as Pablo Dewars Junior, the nephew of one of the Dewars on the letterhead, Pablo Dewars Senior, a man he described as one who “gave up private practice of law for higher pursuits.” Goodwin thought that he was better off not asking why he gave up the practice of law or for a description of the nature of those higher pursuits. Pablo apologized for not being available earlier and explained that his firm was evicted and they had been looking for a temporary office until they got their financial act together. This introduction was not the confidence builder Goodwin needed.

“Listen,” Pablo said, “I know I’m very young and inexperienced, but I’m very interested in this case and I’ve cleared my entire calendar for the next month to work on your behalf.”

“Well, what was on your calendar that you had to clear?”

“I don’t remember,” he said suspiciously, “but trust me. I’m going to work on this like a beaver. Now, tell me everything you know about the Two Sheilas. And don’t worry how long it takes. We bill by the hour.”

Goodwin accommodated his request and for about six hours told Pablo Dewars Junior, in whose hands his future now rested, about Sheila. Dewars took extensive notes and at the end of Goodwin’s story began to weep.

“I’m impressed, Pablo. You’re very empathetic. That’s good.”

“That’s not it, Philip.”

“What then?”

“I’m scared!”

“I’m dead, dead, dead,” Goodwin thought.

“As it turned out, “I’m scared,” was part of a quartet of expressions used by young attorney Dewars when he was confronted by members of the press. Also forming part of his four-pronged emotional state was:
“I’m frightened,” or “I’m too frightened to talk,” and “I’m petrified.” All of this played well in the press who had now treated Pablo and by proxy, Goodwin, as a joke. Pablo was soon dubbed the “Squeamish Solicitor” and “Cowardly Counselor” by the press. One paper carried a photo of Pablo with the cruel notation, “Goodwin’s Greatest Joke.” Thus, while Mr. Justice and his team were all scoring big with the press and the media and no doubt the American public, Pablo simply admitted to being scared, frightened, or petrified.

“I never wanted to be a lawyer,” young Pablo confessed in an interview, “but it’s a family tradition. I’m not cut out for this litigation stuff. Heck, I get nervous if I have to watch Court TV. Perry Mason used to give me nightmares.”

At the Persona Non Gratta bar where Goodwin was downing glasses of Dewars, a brand he selected for its pure irony, he said to the bartender with a slight drunken slur, “It’s over my friend. With my featherweight lawyer, I don’t have a prayer. You know what happened when Lazar took him to the courtroom to see the television set up, Pablo apparently said ‘So this is what a courtroom looks like’ and then he threw up.”

Despite Goodwin’s sentiments, he didn’t give up. In the past he had made a point of avoiding appearances on television shows. Now, mostly out of desperation, he appeared on every show he could in an effort to sway what he knew was an unswayable public opinion. His appearances, however, did more harm than good.

Typically, whenever he was interviewed on a show to press his case in the overcrowded Court of Public Opinion, he was greeted aloofly by the host and asked harsh and often antagonistic questions. Goodwin was considered by all talk show hosts to be something of a pariah, a pariah who boosted their ratings, however. The very mention of his name seemed to automatically raise the hackles on the necks of the most otherwise objective hosts. One iconic senior reporter, who actually removed her hackles with a depilatory, known to be one of the most professional and fair- minded people in the business, told her co-host and the television audience after her interview with Goodwin that she thought he was a “putz.” The co-host shook his head in agreement
and said to the television audience: “Putz is a pretty strong word.” The woman agreed and replied in a voice reminiscent of Forest Gump, “Putz is as Putz does.” The television audience didn’t know what she meant, but since she was a television icon, they assumed it was profound and true.

The day following his “putz” interview, Goodwin appeared on an early morning news show. Before the first question was posed, the show’s effervescent host, an even tempered woman without a mean bone in her body, rose from her chair, approached him and said to the camera, “Before I speak with Philip Goodwin, there’s something I have to do; something I just need to get off my chest.”

He had expected the usual litany of hard questions and verbal attacks; so common in his interviews that he no longer flinched when such an onslaught began. Instead, she stood up, walked over to Goodwin and slapped him hard across his face. Returning to her chair, crossing her legs, letting out a sigh and brushing her hair back slightly, she said: “I’m sorry. I just had to get that out of my system. I feel much better now.” Her apology was not directed towards Goodwin, however, but to members of the television audience. The host received kudos from all who saw the slap and was even nominated for a specially created Emmy for “Action Reporting.”

A week after they met, Goodwin could no longer reach young Pablo because the Board of Health closed his office/pub. Alone in his room and thoroughly depressed, Goodwin was perusing the Internet for inexpensive steamer fares to places like Borneo. The only thing that held him back was his assumption that CNN probably would have carried his story and photograph to that country. He gave up and was walking out the door when his cell phone rang.

“Sorry to reach you so late in the day, but I think we have some problems. Can you come right over? The Board of Health re-opened the restaurant.”

When Goodwin arrived, Dewars said to him, “So, Philip, I’ve read their papers, the complaint against you, the affidavits of all the witnesses, the videos, the 4000 pre-marked exhibits prepared by Mr. Justice’s team, the photographs, the forensic charts, the experts’
reports, the DNA analysis, the diaries of the Two Sheilas, the diary of the Original Sheila, and the Diary of Ann Frank which mentions a Herr Philip Goodwin, a Nazi collaborator, audio tapes of you threatening your two wives and hate notes you’ve written to them.”

“What hate notes? I didn’t write any hate notes.”

Young Dewars handed a note to Goodwin. “What do you make of this?” he asked.

To The Two Sheilas,

You’ve ruined my life. I know I’ll never win the divorce trial and that I will lose everything. Know this; I will spend the rest of my life getting even with you. I hate both of you.

Philip

“But, that’s not my handwriting,” Goodwin protested. “The letter is a total forgery and a bad one at that. We need to get a handwriting expert.”

“I’m way ahead of you Mr. Goodwin. I’ve already retained a handwriting expert and she’s at one of the booths analyzing the handwriting on the letter against your actual handwriting samples. If we can prove that this letter is a forgery, it will affect the credibility of the Two Sheilas and maybe we can turn this case around.”

Goodwin felt a slight sense of relief. Perhaps this young attorney wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe, this scared routine was to throw his adversaries off stride. Several moments later, Pablo returned with an older woman who he introduced as Zelda de Montebello, “a handwriting docent.”

She did not speak directly to Goodwin, but just outwardly into the room, as if she were giving a tour. “Welcome to the analysis of the alleged handwriting of one Philip Goodwin. I’m Zelda de Montebello and I will take you on a tour of this rather tawdry letter. I have divided the letter into four parts, the upper, upper middle, lower middle, and bottom, which we in the profession call “rooms.” Now, if you enter the first room the key word is ‘ruined.’ Notice that the “e” and “i” of this word both lean to the left. This indicates that the writer is a sadist. In
the second, third and fourth rooms we find the words “trial, getting, and hate” You will notice that within these words each “t” is crossed in a manner resembling a crucifix, a very clear sign of a highly religious person with a deranged mind.

“But, is the letter a forgery?” Goodwin stammered.

“I have no idea. I analyze personality traits from handwriting. You need a forensic expert.”

“Whoops,” said Pablo. “I guess I should have looked further down in the yellow pages. But that’s the least of our problems. Look at the video they are offering into evidence.”

The video showed Philip dressed in black leather dancing at a leather bar called the Sado Masochist Relais. This was clearly an altered digitized tape, one in which his face was electronically put on the body of someone else.

“I know its phony,” Pablo said, “and I did try to get someone who was an expert in videos, but all he could do is fix my VCR. And besides, they have an affidavit of the leading video expert in the world, a former FBI and CIA video tape expert, who now teaches video tape alteration at the New School. The man stakes his professional reputation on the fact that the tape was not altered.”

Goodwin exploded. “This is ridiculous! You’ve got to prevent all of this phony evidence from coming in.”

“But how?” asked a cowering Dewars.

At that moment, Goodwin recalled a term he remembered from a civil trial he had participated in years before, which meant a motion made during a trial. The technical term is a motion “in limine.” Goodwin stammered: “Make a motion in limine.”

“Where’s limine?”

Goodwin smacked his head in disgust. “Well, you’re my lawyer. Do you have any suggestions whatsoever?”

Pablo took four large steps backwards and stood at the door of the pub and spoke solemnly. “As your lawyer, Philip, I have an obligation to do the right thing and to give you the benefit of my best advice. Are you ready for my best advice?”

“Yes. What is it?

“Two Latin words.”

“What are they?”

“Pro Se.”

“Pro Se?”

“Yes, meaning that from here on in you’ll represent yourself. And, to make it easier, I’m giving you my law degree, with my name crossed out and yours put in its place and my copies of the
Federal Rules of Civil Procedure For Dummies
and the
Federal Rules of Evidence for Dummies
. No charge. I’m going home.” Pablo turned and ran out of the door. Goodwin believed he heard him screaming “Mommy!” as he made his exit.

On the eve of the trial, Pragat delivered the coup de gras to Goodwin’s prospects by issuing a press release in which it stated that it was “happy to report that we have developed a new algorithm which permits us to give Philip Goodwin zeros in every category. He is the first and only zero in our history and future history.”

Res Ipsa Loquitur

G
oodwin entered courtroom 501 without an attorney, with no evidence or favorable witnesses, no knowledge of the law or courtroom procedure, except for what he had read in the For Dummies law books he had been given by Pablo. His friends, Schnell and virtually all of SoLo were watching, and praying for a major miracle. Though this troop was rooting for him, within the confines of the courtroom, he was alone, completely unprepared to defend himself and facing one of the most formidable legal teams in the country.

The Lone Star Lawyers were already in the courtroom, setting up about 50 file cabinets presumably full of trial exhibits. About 20 of the team’s paralegals and young lawyers were utilizing their laptops or scurrying around, taking notes, or making calls on their cell phones. By contrast all he had was a yellow writing pad, not even the full sized legal pad because he was not a lawyer. The Two Sheilas, dressed in black business suits, sat at their attorneys’ table. They had been given, Goodwin noticed with some annoyance, legal sized pads.

As 10 a.m. approached, the entire Lone Star group began to look at Goodwin’s table quizzically, no doubt wondering why his attorneys were not present. Lazar was pacing back and fourth, but avoided eye contact with Goodwin.

At exactly 10 a.m., Lazar stood in front of the television camera and said, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the premier show of
Divorcing With The Stars
. Today will be the opening day of Goodwin versus Goodwin and Goodwin. It should come as no surprise that this
trial has received about ten times as much pre-trial publicity as the OJ trial. I interviewed the lead attorney for The Sheila earlier and he feels that his case is ironclad and that his team will be one and zero after the trial.

“I tried phoning Pablo Dewars, also known as the cowardly counsel, but only received a recording that he was at a meeting at the ‘bar.’ As you can all see, Mr. Dewars is not here. Under the circumstances, it appears that Mr. Goodwin will have to defend himself, which seems to be an impossible task. The Judge is taking his seat now. We ready for the kickoff, so to speak.”

The casual and relaxed demeanor of the Judge from the previous proceeding was gone. “I don’t see any of the Dewars Brothers, but I don’t think it matters, having read Mr. Justice’s cogent and excellent pre-trial memorandum and not having received anything from Mr. Goodwin’s counsel except a letter of apology from him written on a smudged cocktail napkin and full of misspellings. Mr. Goodwin, it looks like your attorney is not here. Do you know of his whereabouts?”

“No, Your Honor, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m going to be pro se.”

“Let the record reflect that Mr. Goodwin will be representing himself, and for purposes of this trial his ‘team’ will be called the ‘Pro Se Person.’ Is that name satisfactory?”

“Well, Your Honor, I’d prefer to be called the “underdog.”

Justice stood and objected, on the ground that the name would unfairly influence the American Public because everyone loves an underdog, but he was overruled.

“Let me warn you, Mr. Goodwin, there is an old adage which is true. “The man that represents himself has a fool for a client.”

“That may be true, Your Honor, but better a fool than an incompetent idiot who charges by the hour.”

The court and judge erupted with laughter. Goodwin had scored a point, even though Justice objected that his joke was not original. A small cheer went up in the Persona Non Grata bar.